Starting from tonight, every night before bed, he planned to repeat the word “spread open” in his head. If he did that, maybe when he actually heard it out loud, it would be less humiliating.
I should mentally prepare myself in advance.
Yeonwoo smiled softly and nodded to himself. He was glad he’d thought to do this ahead of time. The more he imagined, the more elaborate the scenarios grew.
The only words you’re allowed to say to me are “more, please” or “put it in.”
The moment he imagined a black shadowy figure looming over him and saying those words, a dull ache bloomed in his chest. But this too had to be endured. Compared to what was yet to come, this was nothing. This one gets an X.
“Then maybe I’d answer like this?”
Yeonwoo wrote quickly below it, without hesitation.
You can keep going, but please be a little gentler.
This was fine — it was just a few words added at the front and back, but the meaning hadn’t changed at all. Of course, the second part was sincere, but that was up to the listener to interpret. A little worrying, but… it should be fine.
Please go a little softer.
This one was similar. That way, it probably wouldn’t offend the twisted, sick pervert at all.
Don’t even think about taking one step outside this bed. This is your prison!
This one gave him slight pause. Should he ask for the prison to be expanded just a little? From the bed to the bathroom felt like enough. He’d spent so much time locked in his room that something like this wasn’t even abuse — it didn’t fall under the category of violence either. If anything, being told he could move around freely would make him think he was being tested. And if it was a test and he failed to notice, wandering around happily only to make the twisted, sick pervert angry — that would be a disaster.
A little confusing, though. Should this be an X or a triangle? Yeonwoo thought for a moment. If the prison were expanded to include the bathroom, it would obviously be an X — but if it didn’t extend that far… No, this still leaned closer to X.
Food? There’s no food for someone like you.
Fine. Actually — this one was the most manageable of all. Even living here, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper meal. And even that little had been cut down to once a day because of some man who’d said “a little thinner would be prettier.”
So hunger was something Yeonwoo knew all too well. Tolerating it was second nature. If he pushed through long enough, once every two days was survivable.
This one gets an X too.
Strangely, writing it all out like this made the fear grow thinner rather than stronger.
“Let me use eating less as a selling point. If I tell him I don’t cost much to feed, he’ll probably like that.”
Yeonwoo nodded to himself. He decided that was enough imagining for today. If he imagined too much in one day, he’d only end up frightening himself and crying for no reason.
He’d cap it at three to four scenarios a day.
And so Yeonwoo’s notebook grew from one volume to two, and from two to three.
Knock knock.
The hired hand knocked and immediately shoved the door open. The man, with a scruffy, overgrown beard, jerked his chin at Yeonwoo. An extraordinarily arrogant gesture. He looked down at Yeonwoo with that overbearing air of his, then opened his mouth.
“Young master. The Chairman would like to see you.”
He dropped that one line and immediately turned his back. He even shuddered, as if he couldn’t stand being in this place for even a moment longer. Is it really that bad here? Yeonwoo looked around his small but familiar room. It was a room with poor heating and cooling — stifling in summer, freezing in winter. But it was also the place that had quietly healed the wounds dealt to him by Assemblyman Cha and his family.
Yeonwoo slowly rose from his desk. He couldn’t arrive too early, but he couldn’t arrive too late either. When he was young, he hadn’t understood that distinction and had been beaten for it many times. Now he could read it, if only faintly.
What does he want to talk about?
Was he going to tell him he had to go out tonight? Probably not. That kind of thing would just be a notification, not a summons.
Lately, he hadn’t been called out to those drinking-party-in-name-only gatherings. Just recalling the suffocating atmosphere of those places sent goosebumps crawling across his skin. The unnerving, skin-crawling stares that ran up and down his body. The people with smiles that anyone could see were sinister — and yet he had to smile back at them.
Of course, nothing had actually happened yet — no one had laid a hand on him — but… it was still repulsive. Mid-step, Yeonwoo squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed down the dry heave rising up his throat.
It’s okay. It’ll be okay.
Through the large window, the tall perimeter wall came into view. There was a time when he used to imagine climbing over that wall and running away. But it had always ended as just that — imagination.
Not once in all his years living in this mansion had he ever actually tried to run. Part of it might have been fear of what would come after — but more than that, the fact that there was nowhere to run to had always held him back. He had never once dreamed of the kind of money that Assemblyman Cha’s biological children received as a matter of course. But trying to escape with no bank account, no card, no phone — the odds of success were slim. If he ever truly ran, he wanted to do it when the chances were at least a little better.
Assemblyman Cha would never let him get away in the first place — but just in case. There was a chance he’d had a tracking device implanted somewhere on his body. After all, everyone was always saying he needed to be sold — it wouldn’t be surprising if he’d set up at least one safeguard. Yeonwoo forced himself to look away from the window. If he kept staring at it, the tears would come — tears for a reality he couldn’t escape.
Even so.
If this was how he was going to live…
Should I at least try?
Yeonwoo stopped walking. The wall that had always seemed so impossibly high now seemed to be calling to him. He reached blankly toward the window, then pulled his hand back to his chest. He clasped both hands together and breathed slowly.
No.
The odds were high that he’d be caught before he even made it over the wall. And if he was caught, he’d be beaten and locked in his room.
But then again, if I’m going to be sold off eventually anyway…
Wouldn’t it be better to at least try something?
As Yeonwoo stood motionless in the corridor in a daze, the hired hand who had come to fetch him grabbed his arm and yanked it roughly. The man furrowed his brow and gave him a look that said what are you doing?
“Aren’t you coming?”
“…Yes.”
He willed his reluctant feet to move, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the door. He knocked on the heavy door, and Assemblyman Cha’s voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
The hand gripping the door handle trembled faintly. Yeonwoo took a slow, deep breath. He couldn’t let himself look this unsettled in front of Assemblyman Cha.
The man was seated on a plush sofa, flipping through documents, and didn’t spare Yeonwoo so much as a glance. He just mechanically turned the pages, one after another. Yeonwoo was used to that cold indifference. By the time his legs had grown stiff and aching from standing, Assemblyman Cha finally looked him up and down. It was the kind of look that assessed how much he was worth. Familiar — and yet the revulsion it brought was impossible to suppress.
“Cha Yeonwoo.”
“…Yes.”
“How old are you this year?”
“Twenty-one.”
“That’s right, you’re an adult now. Don’t you think it’s time you repaid the debt you owe me?”
Assemblyman Cha said it so shamelessly. Did he not even realize he was spouting something completely unconscionable? Probably not. To him, Yeonwoo simply wasn’t worth that level of consideration. Yeonwoo said nothing. Denying it would accomplish nothing, and he didn’t want to agree. He dropped his gaze to the floor and stared blankly at his own feet.
“Do you have any idea how much money it cost to raise you all these years?”
“…Yes. I know.”
He didn’t. But Yeonwoo thought it probably hadn’t cost all that much. Perhaps out of awareness of how things looked — when they went out in public, he was dressed in expensive clothes and fed expensive food. But inside the house, it was another story entirely. Assemblyman Cha was the kind of man who begrudged even a single grain of rice going into Yeonwoo’s mouth. The trousers he was wearing now were too short, exposing his ankles, and his shirt was visibly worn and frayed.
Assemblyman Cha rested his chin in his hand, a greasy smile spreading across his face. Meeting those eyes — gleaming with greed — brought a surge of revulsion. Yeonwoo bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and swallowed the nausea. It’s okay. You’re used to this. You have to endure it, Cha Yeonwoo. He whispered it to himself.
“So then — you should repay the grace of being raised so well. Don’t you think?”
