Chapter 1.1

Chapter 1.1

They say that even if you enter a tiger’s den, you can survive if you stay alert. But what is the appropriate attitude for someone who has no will to live when they fall into the den of a dangerous beast?

“Hey, kid!”

The door burst open, and the hallway lights poured in brightly. Startled awake by the loud shout, Heeju squinted against the glare.

“Get up. Our hyung-nim is looking for you.”

“…Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Rubbing her sleep-laden eyes, Heeju groggily raised her upper body from the sofa. Looking for me? Why?

“Get up, quickly.”

The man leaned against the doorframe, smirking crookedly.

For someone who’s been locked up, you sure are lounging around and sleeping like it’s nothing. You’ve got some nerve for a girl. What is this, a vacation for you?

A long scar ran from his forehead to his cheek. Judging by its condition, it was at least a few years old and had not been properly treated initially.

“Or did you forget that your life is a little f`ck3d up?”

Heeju, staggering as she got up, glanced at the clock on the wall.

“…It’s ten o’clock.”

“Ten o’clock is early evening. Are you talking back to me?”

“No, where should I go?”

“First floor.”

The man gestured with his eyes for her to walk ahead. Heeju descended the stairs with weary steps. As soon as she adjusted to the bright lights, her stomach churned as if she might vomit.

How many days had it been since she last left the room? She couldn’t remember. Having lain around like a corpse, her body felt heavy, and her feet dragged along the floor.

After just a bit of walking, her head quickly became dizzy. As she stepped onto the landing, her vision spun, and she was struck by severe vertigo. When Heeju paused, gripping the railing, the man scowled and gave her a push on the back.

“Kid, stop dawdling and walk faster. Want to arrive tomorrow?”

Kid…

She thought it was a strange way to address her, but she didn’t have the energy to question it. What did it matter what they called her here?

Feeling a persistent headache, Heeju swallowed a sigh and resumed walking. The impatient man, seemingly frustrated, grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her along.

“I’ve brought her, hyung-nim.”

As she entered the dimly lit space, several pairs of eyes fell on Heeju at once. Pushed by the rough hand, she stumbled weakly and soon lost her balance, collapsing forward. Her stamina must have really run out.

Heeju, clueless about the situation, blankly lifted her head. Four men, dressed in pitch-black suits as if attending a funeral, stared at her with unkind eyes.

“Leave her and everyone else, get out.”

In the room, illuminated by indirect lighting, only one person stood with his broad back facing her. Heeju’s gaze landed on the enormous figure of the man.

Broad shoulders and a dress shirt stretched tight across his wide back, tapering down to a relatively slim waist and long legs. He appeared to be around 193 cm tall, possibly more. His weight seemed to be around 85 to 90 kg, with a body fat percentage of approximately 10 percent.

If she could see him naked, she could estimate his measurements more accurately, but even through his clothes, her mind automatically sketched out the man’s physical specs—a cursed occupational hazard.

Fifteen days ago, she had jumped into the sea to die. She remembered the sensation of the icy seawater flooding her lungs and the tightness of her throat. Just as her body, caught in the current, began to relax and she was about to find peace, someone grabbed her by the nape and pulled her out of the water. It was this man.

“Hey, get a grip.”

“It’s a bit awkward for you to die like this….”

Heeju had been brought here, almost kidnapped, by the man who saved her. He didn’t rescue her out of normal human compassion, pity, kindness, or meddling. It was because he wanted her to repay the debt her deceased sister had left behind.

After bringing her here and thrusting the loan document stamped with her sister’s seal in front of her, the man had essentially ignored Heeju’s existence, leaving her in neglect. For fifteen days, she had lived a surprisingly peaceful life for someone confined, and this was the first time she had seen him since that day.

“But, hyung-nim,” the man standing next to Heeju said quietly, removing his glasses and placing them in his inner pocket.

“The wound is severe. Dr. Hwang will arrive soon, so at least stop the bleeding for now….”

“Yunam.”

The man pciked up a heavy whiskey bottle from the shadowed liquor cabinet and turning around.

“No need to fuss. It’s just a scratch.”