Kruuugh.

Kushi gagged, retching in a dark corner of the garden. Its recently bloated body convulsed violently, as if attempting to turn itself inside out. A moment later, a mangled arm flew out.

Kueeeek! The creature shook itself, body rippling with disgust, and spat again. This time, an old ring landed on the dirt beside the tattooed limb.

Grrr… Kushi flattened its tail, watching the remnants. Like Ian, the creature always left a trace when it consumed a human—Frida Troll’s severed hand, Camilla’s diamond earring.

Kushi frantically began to dig. Its Master hated this weakness, and Kushi felt the same deep shame. That was why it had been unable to swallow the arm in the first place.

As it clawed at the soil, other gruesome fragments emerged—all that was left of the humans Kushi had consumed. It nudged the rotting arm and the ring deeper with its forepaws, pushing a heavy blanket of dirt over them.

I will starve before I eat one of those, the creature thought.

Rob trembled, his voice a pathetic squeak. “Inspector, this isn’t right. We need to take a ferry north and get to another country…”

Andy didn’t look at him, draining his takeaway coffee in a single, desperate gulp. “It’s an hour to London, Mr. Fisher.”

Andy’s eyes were feverish and bright. The monster, Ian, would think they had fled. Don’t make me laugh. He had killed everyone, yet left one person breathing. Andy had found the seam in the monster’s armor. Jina Troll.

I have to get her out.

“Ugh…”

Jina gave a shallow, painful gasp, finally opening her eyes sometime after noon. Her lids fluttered, heavy and difficult, and her gaze was unfocused, vacant. Everything was a blur: who she was, where she was, why she hurt. Only one thing pierced the fog: the violent, relentless presence that had burrowed into her body like a sickness all night long.

“I… Ian…”

At the sound of his name, the memories rushed back, a brutal, overwhelming tide. Jina remembered everything. She slowly pushed herself upright.

“What… time… is it…”

Her body, naked beneath the rumpled silk sheets, was fully exposed. The sight was horrific, enough to make a stranger recoil.

A gruesome constellation of red and deep blue marks covered her, running from the slope of her neck down to her ankles. The bite marks were the most prominent, a brutal trail on any curve of flesh.

Her chest was the worst of it. The ends were so aggressively gnawed that perfectly round, crimson lines encircled her areolas.

Last night, he had sucked, sucked, and sucked, as if determined to draw milk from her breasts. She felt the searing sting of his lingering saliva even now, just from the friction of his sheets.

“Crazy…”

The word ‘offspring’ was on the tip of her tongue, but she remembered his low, possessive murmur:

‘Want me to suck more? You’re dying from pleasure like this.’

Crazy.

She whispered the word, meaning it for him, and collapsed back onto the bed. “Hhht…!”

The impact of her body hitting the mattress sent a shockwave of pain through every hidden bruise. Jina swallowed a groan. Her head remained thick and foggy.

Her throat, raw from hours of constant cries, pleas, and ragged moans, ached. Her eyes were swollen. But the most agonizing part was, as always, the space between her legs.

Jina reached down, her fingers tracing the curve of her abdomen. The phantom sensation of it bulging, stretched, and full all night long was still vivid.

He had rarely pulled himself out of her. Even when she’d asked for water, he’d insisted on carrying her, lifting her body, his erection still buried deep inside.

Ugh, ugh—she’d groaned with every step he took, the sound of it echoing the friction of his penetration.

Amused, he’d let out a low chuckle, then spun her once around the room before finally pinning her against the wall and driving into her.

All the while, one hand had rested leisurely, possessively, on her belly.

‘Don’t… press…’

She’d struggled, tried to push him away, but he’d pressed harder. The action made his hardness inside her feel even more pronounced, a cruel weight.

He’d rocked his hips, driving into her in different positions, murmuring with genuine regret: ‘I wish this would swell up soon.’ Then he would ejaculate, pumping into her until she was too full to contain it all, the excess dripping down her thighs.

Jina reached lower. As expected, a thick, sticky substance had dried on the skin between her legs.

Most men would bring a warm cloth to clean up the mess if their partner fell asleep first, but Ian never did. It was a deliberate statement, a reminder of what he had left inside her.

Clenching her still-throbbing abdomen, she curled into a tight ball. She wasn’t cold, despite her nudity. The room’s heating was intense enough to be suffocating, yet somehow, the air felt breathable.

How long have I been here?

She had no memory of leaving the room since they returned from the hunting grounds.

Her life had narrowed to a horrifying loop: eating, bathing, making love, sleeping. And then she remembered the word he’d muttered, possessive and dark: Breeding.

No other term felt more accurate to describe her existence. In the past, the mere thought would have sparked revulsion, but now, strangely, she felt a frightening sense of nothingness.

Jina’s eyes drifted slowly across the opulent space. When she’d first arrived, the awkward tension of the place had been overwhelming.

Now, she felt a strange, terrifying sense of entitlement—that all of this should, naturally, be prepared for her.

Of course, I am his….

The thought was followed by a vicious, throbbing headache. She felt a profound sense of loss, like critical memories were being ripped from her mind.

I returned from the hunting grounds. Something significant happened there… When did I start seeing Ian? Who was I with before him? Who told me to run away, crying…?

“Ugh…”

The headache intensified, a searing command to stop thinking. The terrible pain forced Jina’s mind to shift focus.

The mansion on Hampstead Heath. Chairman Aylesford’s house. Why am I here…

Amidst the confusion, one detail surfaced with startling clarity.

“Right, here…”

I came here to work.

Lying in this bed, spreading her legs for the man who visited daily, clutching his neck, letting him bite her chest—this was not the job she’d contracted for.

Jina forced herself out of the sheets. As she stumbled a few steps, the thick remnants of Ian’s possession dripped onto the expensive carpet from between her legs.

She entered the bathroom, turned the shower to scalding hot, and sat beneath the spray, curling into a tight ball. The water slowly washed away his traces.

Composure returned in tiny increments. She stepped out, searching for something to wear, but there were no clothes for her anywhere in the room.

As if such things had become obsolete. Finally, Jina pulled on one of Ian’s shirts and headed for her own room.

She worried about running into anyone. Rounding the corner to her corridor, she came face-to-face with a mansion staff member. The woman’s eyes went wide, frozen in surprise at Jina’s dishevelment.

Jina was about to offer some clumsy excuse for wearing Ian’s shirt when the staff member suddenly dropped her gaze, bowing her head deeply. She stopped moving entirely. She didn’t just stop; she began to tremble violently, as if she had encountered something truly terrifying.

“……?”

Jina glanced over her shoulder, wondering what the woman was staring at, but there was no one. The fear was directed at her. She debated asking if the woman was alright, but her own needs were too urgent. Jina brushed past and hurried to her door.

Thump.

The moment Jina was gone, the staff member collapsed, sinking to the ground and curling into a ball, hands clamped over her head. She felt as though she had seen something unholy, something as terrifying as the very Master of the mansion…

The next second, the woman’s consciousness dissolved into a blank, velvet darkness. A moment later, she stood up and continued toward her original destination.

Her hands and feet were still shaking, but she didn’t know why, nor did she care. The sight of Jina was cleanly erased from her mind.

That woman was something she was forbidden to see.

After changing into a fresh set of clothes in her room, Jina moved with purpose, heading straight for the kitchen.

The dull ache behind her eyes wasn’t receding; it only tightened its grip with every step she took down the long corridor.

It felt like two savage forces were locked in a death match inside her skull. But she had no anchor, no idea what fractured piece of her soul each side was fighting to protect.

She only held onto one certainty: if she performed the tasks that had defined her first days in the mansion, the swirling, hazy fragments of her memory would finally cohere.

I’m forgetting something.

What essential truth was she allowing to slip away?

The answer, she trusted, lay in the act of doing.

She slipped on her professional whites—a uniform she hadn’t worn in what felt like an eternity—and reached the kitchen.

When she cracked the door, three chefs spun around as one, their movements unnaturally synchronized.

“Oh…!”

Their faces were a study in shocked disbelief, their wide eyes glued to Jina.

Jina offered a curt, light greeting, then, as was her ingrained habit, rolled up her sleeves to begin the work.

This is all I’m need to do.

She had been brought here to cook. She owed her employer nothing more, and she would provide nothing less.

“Um, are you… okay?”

One of the men ventured the question, his voice a cautious whisper. He tried to rein it in, but the fear in his tone made his words tremble.

Like the staff member earlier, Jina couldn’t parse the terror she saw reflected in the chefs’ behavior.

But their bizarre reaction was a distraction she couldn’t afford. Jina focused on the first familiar task: boiling the water for poached eggs.

She’d already poured the pre-heated water into a stainless steel pot and turned to face the room.

In that heartbeat, she collided with the chef who’d been standing too close behind her, and the pot tipped, crashing down onto the slick counter.

“Ouch!”

A scalding wave of hot water sloshed over Jina. She recoiled, stumbling back, but the burn was unavoidable.

She lifted the back of her hand to look at the damage. A vicious, throbbing pain bloomed, spreading from the angry, red skin.

The chefs scrambled, rushing forward with cold water and ice, pressing the chilling relief to Jina’s hand.

“Are you okay?”

“…No.”

The lie caught in her throat. She couldn’t force the words, not with her hand burning like a brand for anyone to see. Jina let out a weary sigh, watching the burn deepen in color.

Working was a physical impossibility now. Defeated, she simply walked back to her room and sat, holding the melting ice against her skin, her mind a desolate blank.

The headache intensified, growing to a blinding pitch. Finally, she collapsed into her bed and pulled the sheets up, closing her eyes.

She hoped that when she woke up, the darkness would have lifted, and her current situation would have been erased.

But when she opened her eyes again, the first thing she was met with was a vision of terrible rage.

“How dare any bastard hurt you?”

Ian’s days had become a relentless blur of obligation.

“It’s an honor to meet you like this.”

The man across the desk offered the tired pleasantry, but the clear, obvious annoyance in his eyes was impossible to miss. Ian understood the root of that pique perfectly.

“The honor is mine, I assure you. I had assumed it would be impossible to secure this meeting, since you managed to miss our previous appointments—all two of them.”

The careless, unbothered quality of Ian’s words made the man’s lip twitch.

But what good was pride here?

He was forced to swallow his insult, lower his head, and come groveling back, despite Ian’s having unilaterally postponed their highly-anticipated meetings twice.

A brief, brutal exchange to establish the hierarchy was all that was needed before the formal conversation began.

They sealed a simple transaction and ended with the usual meaningless words of continued cooperation.

As Ian ushered the man out with a quick handshake, his secretary materialized, mentioning the name of the next person entering the room and dispensing the bare minimum of information about the supplicant.

Ian used the few minutes of reprieve to stare out the towering window.

In the far distance, he could see a dark hill crowned by a forest. And beyond that forest sat his mansion. Their nest, where Jina lay sleeping soundly.

“Tsk.”

He was sick of his present reality.

From the moment the Chairman had decided to hand over a massive slice of the Aylesford Group and carved out a separate department just for Ian, his schedule had been micro-managed in ten-minute increments.

The rivals who had initially scoffed—How well can that reckless fellow do anything?—had quickly changed their tune when he’d torn through the workload with frightening, inhuman speed.

They understood now that a new master of Aylesford was not only coming, but was already here.

That realization had filled his anteroom with an endless parade of desperate people, all scrambling to confirm their future relationship with him.

It had become a privilege for considerable politicians and businessmen to secure even twenty minutes of his time.

Yet, when he’d announced he would spend a week at the hunting grounds, his secretaries had bent the world to adjust every single one of his commitments.

Then, he’d extended that period by another two weeks, leaving a terrifying mountain of delayed work piled upon his return.

And the chairman still hasn’t returned.

Chairman Aylesford had returned to London from the hunting grounds first.

He had then flown to Germany to finalize issues concerning the Aylesford Group’s distribution network—a delicate matter tied up in EU bureaucracy.

It should have been a fortnight, at most.

More than a month had passed, and the old man hadn’t returned from Germany.

It was a gift to Ian. With the Chairman gone, the mansion belonged entirely to him. He recalled the cold, assessing look the Chairman had given Jina.

The Chairman had been judging the quality of the new toy his grandson had acquired. And his verdict had been swift: something meaningless, meant to be briefly played with and then discarded. The Chairman had, therefore, said nothing.

He had presumed Ian would soon grow bored.

He’d decided there was no reason to confront his grandson by issuing unnecessary orders. Now, however, that judgment must feel like a catastrophic mistake.

I couldn’t control everyone by the chairman’s side….

Before he could properly impose the deep mental suppression on the entire staff, some of them had already gone too far, beyond his ability to control their minds as he wished.

They had maintained constant, close contact with the London headquarters, even while the Chairman was in Germany.

They must have known he’d extended his stay at the hunting grounds, brought Jina into his room at the mansion, and remained in that room with her for the subsequent week.

Still, the Chairman had said nothing.

Instead, the old man had ordered Ian to come to Germany himself to properly conclude the EU distribution network negotiations.

But Ian couldn’t leave.

The sea.

He remembered the day he’d gone on a business trip to Edinburgh.

As he drove further north, an unusual sense of electric excitement had begun to build. The cold, damp smell of the unfamiliar land, which had begun to permeate the air at a certain point, jarred loose memories of the past.

Though he’d been trapped in an endless darkness for far too long, before that prison, he had devoured everything that moved on land without a flicker of hesitation.

Recalling that savage freedom, he had even found himself humming a rare, aimless tune, the thought of consuming a human on his return trip to London an idle pleasure.

It was a habit he hadn’t possessed before.

He’d unconsciously mimicked Jina—the soft, mindless melody she made when she was in a good mood—and it had become his own.

The scheduled task finished ahead of time.

Since there was a significant gap before his flight back to London, the secretary suggested he simply wait in the hotel lobby.

Ian, who was actively considering whether to just swallow this fool whole and leave, saw the vast, gray sea spread out behind the secretary’s head.

He told the man he was going for a walk, and walked directly toward the coast.

As he drew near, the strange, unfamiliar smell of the sea assaulted his nose.

He was a creature unfazed by the cloying stench of rotten blood, yet the salt-laced air of the ocean was inexplicably unbearable.

Ian endured it, pushing himself to move closer to the lapping edge of the tide.

Splash. Splash.

Even the Thames had its gentle, light waves, but the sea’s rhythm was a deep, resonant roar that couldn’t be compared.

He stopped at the shore, bent down, and reached out to touch the white, foamy end of an approaching wave.

“……!”

A searing, agonizing pain shot up his arm. He clenched his teeth against the foreign, shocking sensation he had never once experienced.

Ian stared at his hand.

Though the skin felt outwardly whole, the part the seawater had touched still prickled with a deep, unsettling sting. It was a viciously unpleasant sensation.

A Fence.

It was the great, primordial will of this place, a boundary set to prevent those born within its shadows from ever escaping.

Ian knew.

It would be a Sisyphean task for him to cross that terrifying expanse, even by plane or ship.

And so, he had flatly refused the Chairman’s insistent summons to Berlin, piling excuse upon flimsy excuse.

In any case, his absence is a good thing.

Returning to London, Ian felt a deep, savage gratitude for the Chairman’s extended vacation.

Was it because the old man was a Human who had forged and ruled an empire called Aylesford?

The simple act of Mind Control failed him completely. While prolonged, steady suppression might eventually break him, Ian’s focus was, at the moment, dangerously fractured.

The second he landed, he drove straight to the mansion.

Because he’d had to leave before dawn, he hadn’t been able to sate the sickening hunger he felt for Jina’s delicate body.

He’d noticed her Fertile Period. Her flesh, already intoxicatingly sweet, had ripened, becoming even more fragrant as it prepared to receive his Seed and swell.

And so, he had flooded her. He’d pumped his essence into her until her womb was distended for an entire day. As much as seeped out, he’d ruthlessly forced back in, leaving Jina pinned between his legs, incapable of moving for hours.

He’d believed that if they were so fiercely joined, she would conceive quickly. But contrary to his possessive calculations, Jina’s body seemed to reject his Seed.

As a surge of raw irritation drove him to thrust even more brutally, a sudden, blinding clarity hit him.

Her body was rejecting the monster’s offering. He couldn’t simply push forward with brute force.

She had to accept him. He decided, then, that he would recondition her body. Until now, he had consumed Jina. But the time had come for Jina to consume him.

She probably didn’t even realize it.

While she thrashed beneath him in a torrent of pain and pleasure, he kissed her with desperate intensity. Struggling to escape, she’d often bite his tongue, drawing his dark, metallic ichor.

She wouldn’t have noticed the iron taste. And even if she had, the sheer chaos of their coupling would have rendered it meaningless.

But in the meantime, Jina was steadily, subtly becoming more like him.

The proof was in the time she could hold him inside her—longer than at first.

Once, she’d wept, breathless with shock, at the sight of his thick outline bulging her abdomen, but now, she gazed at him with an impatient face, as if she were incomplete without that rough penetration.

She used to push him away, begging him to stop when her mouth swelled from the intensity of his sucking and biting, but now, she actively pulled his head closer to her chest.

It had taken considerable, maddening patience to reach this point.

But the result of his persistence was so utterly satisfying that Ian intended to slowly, leisurely, spread her body open again today.

As he walked toward the room, however, a razor-sharp certainty told him something was wrong.

The closer he got, the more the intoxicating scent of his Female should have vibrated in the air. But the fragrance was distinctly fainter than usual.

No way.

He burst into the room. Jina’s figure was nowhere to be seen. Ian immediately followed the faint, fading trail of her scent.

He found her asleep in a quiet, secluded room on the first floor—a space she had used in the past.

It was a small mercy that she hadn’t left the mansion, but he found no relief in the knowledge. Her leaving the room was proof that his Suggestion had momentarily failed.

He considered plunging into her immediately, feeding her more of his blood to force her back into the compliant role of his Female. But the air held a smell that was different from the usual sweetness.

A heartbeat later, he understood. On the bed, on the back of Jina’s hand, he saw a single red, angry mark.

The wound smelled even more delectable than her usual self. Ian’s mouth dropped open involuntarily. If I were to tear off and consume this part right now…

But he didn’t move an inch further.

He couldn’t eat it.

Despite being such an exquisitely tempting Human, Jina had now become an entity he absolutely, fundamentally could not devour.

His fingers delicately brushed the injured spot. Did the sting of the heat reach her?

Jina’s eyes slowly fluttered open.

Ian forced his voice into the gentlest register he could muster, a dangerous softness in the query:

“Who dared to hurt you?”

The next day, Jina awoke in Ian’s room.

After staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment, she sat up and looked for her clothes. When they weren’t there, she headed back to her former room.

“……It’s not here.”

But in the span of one day, the room had been aggressively wiped clean, leaving behind an empty, sterile space.

Finally, after circling the mansion until she found something of Ian’s to cover herself with, she headed to the kitchen.

And when Jina walked in, the silence was immediate and terrifying.

“……!”

In the space where three figures normally stood, two chefs watched her with expressions of sheer, raw terror.

The mansion’s cleaner was engaged in a frenzy of activity from the moment the sun rose.

She sighed, scrubbing the red marks on the pristine wall with a damp rag. These were the traces of Ian’s fury from last night.

He had arrived and immediately sought Jina. Moments later, he’d stormed out and headed straight for the kitchen.

From inside, they heard the sickening crunch of something colliding against the walls and the metallic shriek of fixtures being ripped apart. But no one, no one, had dared to go inside and check the carnage.

He was the ruler of this domain.

They bowed their heads to him, and it was the natural order of things for them, the lowly beings, to offer their arms, legs, or heads whenever his whim demanded it.

At best, it would only be enough for a single meal…

So when he emerged from the kitchen, holding aloft the head of the chef whose lower body had been brutally torn away and disappeared, the entire household held its breath, praying his wrath would not spread to them.

Fortunately, he tossed the severed head aside and immediately retreated to his room with Jina.

Everyone felt an overwhelming relief at that simple fact.

The cleaner felt it, too.

She hadn’t died. How miraculously fortunate she was to have been spared his attention.

She looked at the wall, where the bloodstains had been somewhat diluted, and felt a profound satisfaction that she was still alive.

The head he’d carried out had struck this wall before tumbling to the floor. And it was still… there.

She turned her head. The chef’s face, a horrific tableau of enduring terror and pain, lay in the corner.

A person was dead.

She should scream.

She should run out immediately, report this atrocity, and secure justice for this terrible deed.

The thought echoed clearly in her head, but…

Grrr.

The cleaner snapped her head back at the low, guttural growl of a beast. When had it arrived? A black dog—Kushi—stood directly behind her.

The instant their eyes locked, the cleaner bowed her head and prostrated herself flat on the floor.

Humans like herself were the weakest, the most insignificant creatures here.

What stood before her now was a predator that could swallow her whole with one terrifying snap of its maw.

Trembling, the cleaner watched the black paws pacing in front of her.

The dog circled her, a string of saliva hanging from its jowls. Cold sweat streamed down her chin.

As if amused by her utter devastation, the black dog’s growl intensified.

Crack.

Something seemed to split above her head. Even though all she could see was the worn carpet, the cleaner knew the black dog was assessing the precise angle it needed to swallow her in one bite.

“Hoo… hic…”

Her body, utterly crushed by fear, could only perform one pathetic act: sobbing breathlessly.

That was all.

The dog’s shadow, stretched out on the floor, was a grotesque, shifting form that she couldn’t begin to name.

As the fear dragged on, the cleaner’s consciousness began to ebb. Just as she was about to pass out from sheer, raw exhaustion.

Grrr.

A dog’s low, almost mocking snarl was heard, and it snatched something before turning and padding away.

In the now-silent hallway, the cleaner remained prostrate for a very long time, unable to lift her head. Then, with a strangled scream, she slowly managed to get up.

“Ah…”

The chef’s head in the corner was gone. The black dog must have taken it.

Slowly standing, the cleaner washed the blood-soaked rag and began to wipe the final streaks from the wall again.

Everyone in this mansion knew the same inescapable truth.

Nothing, and no one, could ever leave this place.

Tap, tap, tap.

Kushi trotted through the garden, its claws making a rapid, clicking sound on the stone path. Its tail, constantly wagging, and its light, effortless footsteps spoke volumes about the black dog’s good mood.

Reaching a secluded, deep corner of the garden, Kushi dropped what it was carrying and began to diligently dig a pit with its front paws.

Beneath the rapidly churned earth, a small trove of artifacts appeared.

A ring, a name tag, a mobile phone case, a tie clip, and several other unremarkable objects.

One item, one Human.

These were the sparse, final traces of the Humans the Master kept in the mansion.

Kushi, which had been growling softly, nudged the severed head it had brought with its paw and pushed it into the growing pit.

Normally, it would have consumed this, too.

But because its Master had been so terrifyingly volatile yesterday and left the remains, Kushi felt compelled to cautiously assess whether it was acceptable to swallow the entire offering.

Besides, having eaten its fill recently, it didn’t feel the particular urge to ingest every last scrap.

Kushi buried the Human head appropriately.

A small section seemed to be sticking out, but the beast stopped covering it. It was too much effort.

Kushi casually packed the dirt down with a heavy paw and returned to the mansion, its tail wagging happily.

It began to slowly circle the estate. It had to move as its Master had commanded before leaving.

Grrr.

Kushi recalled the precise words Ian had issued before leaving the mansion that morning.

〈Do not let anything enter the mansion.〉

The Master’s command was infused with a new, sharper menace than before, causing Kushi to flatten itself, lowering its ears and tail, and whining submissively.

〈If you are hungry, eat whatever you find.〉

But at the subsequent sentence, even while lying low, Kushi couldn’t stop its tail from thumping against the ground.

It was the first time its Master had so generously granted it permission to consume the Humans.

As Kushi slowly paTrolld the perimeter, it recalled everything that had happened since it had been awakened in the wilderness after a long, forced slumber.

The Master who had summoned it had begun to resemble the Humans more and more. Kushi had bared its teeth at him a few times and flat-out ignored his orders.

The Master had immediately noticed the insolence and simply broken Kushi’s neck.

Even so, Kushi often cast insolent glances at him. It couldn’t help it. What could it do when the Master smelled of Human, unlike before?

Moreover, Jina, who lay beside the Master, smelled incredibly delicious.

Kushi had believed that if it obeyed and submitted, perhaps one day its Master would grant it an arm.

But now, Jina could no longer be eaten. The Human Female now carried the deep, dominating scent of its Master. She was rapidly becoming a being it dared not open its maw to.

In the meantime, the Master had become incredibly sensitive and ferociously protective. Anything that so much as lingered around Jina, if it made even the slightest mistake, would be instantly torn apart, unlike the Master’s former, lazy indifference.

Thanks to that, Kushi had enjoyed days of being happily, obscenely full.

Arriving back in front of the mansion steps, Kushi yawned widely and plopped down.

Do not let anything enter.

Now, it had to obey that command until its Master returned.

Just then, it saw a Human from the mansion walking toward the main gate. A worker who frequently came and went, carrying out the Master’s endless errands like an ant.

The worker seemed to be holding something heavy in his hand, but Kushi saw nothing of consequence. Therefore, Kushi lowered its guard toward the Human.

Yawn.

The Human employee passed right by Kushi, who was still mid-yawn. Even when the dog looked again, the Human’s hand held nothing of interest. It was fine to leave him alone.

The employee carried the package into the mansion.

This was a parcel addressed to Jina Troll. Therefore, he had to deliver it to her.

The rule, originally, was that all packages arriving at the mansion had to be checked in the staff building before being brought into the main residence.

But the moment his hand closed around the small box, he headed straight for the main building.

Only one single thought remained in his mind:

I have to deliver this to Jina Troll.

He was utterly confused.

He had to deliver it to her. But he had nothing in his hands.

There was definitely something…

Even though a small box was in his grip, he looked around wildly, as if he couldn’t see anything at all.

After hesitating for a long time, unsure of what he should do, he continued toward the mansion with a dazed, oblivious expression.

When he saw Kushi, his body seized with tension. The black dog would savagely tear apart anything unfamiliar coming from the outside.

If he made one wrong move, it would bite him for causing the slightest trouble.

But Kushi only yawned, not moving an inch. So he entered the mansion as if nothing was wrong.

Even after stepping inside, his internal confusion continued.

He had nothing in his hands. Yet, he was compelled to deliver what was in his hands to Jina Troll. Two contradictory thoughts clashed fiercely in the ruined landscape of his mind.

After wandering the first floor of the mansion for a long time, he bumped into another employee coming out, and the parcel he was holding dropped to the floor with a quiet thud.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. More importantly, just a moment ago, in my hand…”

“Hm? What was in your hand?”

“Well… I think I was holding something…”

Even though the small box lay rolling right beside them, both men looked around the room, utterly incapable of perceiving its presence.

“It’s fine. I must have been mistaken about something.”

The employee who had brought the package blinked a few times, then returned to the main gate where he had been stationed. The other employee watched him go, wondering briefly about his strange behavior, and then continued on his own way.

The parcel lay by the living room hallway, completely unseen by anyone.

And throughout the day, dozens of employees passed right by it, but not a single one registered its existence, much less picked it up.

Above the parcel, the recipient’s name was written in characters that were decidedly not English.

[To my beloved daughter, Jina Troll.]

“Hnnngh…”

Ian moved his hips with brutal vigor, drawing out Jina’s desperate moans.

As always, tonight he was striving to achieve his ultimate, possessive goal. But that didn’t mean he neglected the particular affection he held for Jina’s pleasure.

“Don’t bite your lip.”

Despite the warning, his merciless, deep movements—which dug into her deepest core—did not stop.

The thick, wet slapping sound of their bodies colliding echoed relentlessly throughout the room.

“Hnn, Ahh! Ah, ah…!”

His own anxious, frantic heart poured out through the chaotic cadence of Jina’s screams.

Because he drove himself a little faster than usual, as if urging her toward an inevitable end, the rapid flesh-on-flesh sound grew quicker and more insistent.

“S-stop! There, stop! Ah, ahh!”

The raw, crude flesh that precisely targeted her climax was a thing she never grew used to, even after holding the bulk of him inside her all day.

At Jina’s plea, Ian, with a devastating understanding of her struggle, stroked her lower body, which was clenching tightly around his cock.

His fingertips grazed the swollen flesh that was gripping him. Ian slowly caressed the area with his fingers and then slyly slipped his digits between her folds.

“Ah, ugh! D-don’t!”

Jina, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face, shook her head in frantic denial.

She knew that when he pushed his fingers in, as if his penis alone was an insufficient torment, it would mercilessly intensify her pleasure for a terrifyingly long time.

“I can’t help it.”

“W-what…?”

“You hardly accept me. So I have to help you get more excited.”

Whispering the chilling words, Ian pressed down hard on her swollen clitoris with his fingernail.

“Hnn, ah, ahh!”

Her naked body, sprawled across the bed, convulsed as if struck by a lightning bolt, every nerve screaming its pleasure.

Saliva that she couldn’t swallow dripped from the corners of her wide-open mouth. Her gasping, shaking body, unable to cope with the pressure, only further fueled his lust.

“You bite and squeeze so tightly, yet you pretend to be in pain. I suppose I’ll have to give you more.”

Though his tone was cruel and mocking, Jina, having already crested the first wave of climax, didn’t register his ridicule. All she could feel was the invasion of his fingers, which had now become two, relentlessly digging inside her.

Hic.

Finally, she broke into desperate, ragged sobs. Only then did the fingers thrusting inside her momentarily stop.

Trying to avoid the further onslaught of pleasure he offered, Jina clung to him, pleading.

“Ian, please… stop, okay? Please…”

“Shall I stop?”

Nod, nod.

As her head shook rapidly, he looked at Jina, his fingers still buried deep inside her, as if contemplating what to do.

Then, alongside his cock, his finger slowly pressed against her inner wall, the friction deliberate and deep.

“Hhht!”

When he began to move again, she looked at him with desperate resentment. Ian met her gaze with a look of profound, agonizing pity and whispered in her ear.

“I don’t want to make it too hard for you, either. But…”

His voice gradually filled with a possessive, frustrated resentment.

“You don’t accept me.”

Even with the obscene effort he put forth every single day, Jina still hadn’t conceived his offspring.

He had given her every pleasure he could muster, day after day. He had sown enough of his dark Seed that she couldn’t possibly swallow it all, yet Jina still refused to carry it.

Ian realized the bitter truth. An offspring would only be conceived if she desired it herself.

His gaze, fixed on Jina, who was panting uncontrollably beneath him, was filled with that awful pity. What must I do for you to enjoy this?

How can I make you like me, and create something that has never been born into this world?

Ian stopped moving, his thoughts sinking into a terrifying depth.

What Jina wanted. What had been her most desperate, secret desire until now. He realized it instantly.

Jina was no fool. She was quick to calculate and act, showing an innate, almost savage agility in avoiding danger.

But on one solitary subject, she consistently made the most devastatingly unwise judgments.

“Ah…”

Ian understood. Her greatest pain, her deepest, unhealed wound.

A smile bloomed across his cold, hard face. He had finally learned the key to unlock her heart.

Ian slowly withdrew his body from hers.

Jina let out a long, shuddering moan at the sensation of him scraping his way out.

He gently lifted her, settled her against the headboard, and carefully brushed the sweat-soaked hair from her face.

His tender touch continued to her eyes, which were red and swollen from crying.

Her ragged sobbing gradually subsided under his uncharacteristic gentleness.

He patted Jina’s calming shoulder with a steady hand.

“Jina.”

His lips moved to nuzzle her sweat-dampened forehead. He kissed various parts of her face, as if no spot was unlovable, then drew back.

Jina, expecting his mouth to return to hers as always, forced her eyes open and looked at him.

Why?

At her silent, questioning gaze, he took her hand instead of answering. Then, in a voice more serious than she had ever heard, he said,

“Let’s make a family. A family that will be by your side, always.”

“……!”

In that single moment, her pupils trembled violently, reflecting a terrible shock.

“I will never abandon you. I will never leave you.”

Her breath hitched at his ensuing promise. Her trembling eyes locked onto his, a profound, immediate connection.

Complex, warring emotions churned in her dark pupils. Jina recalled the sight of her mother’s back as she had walked away.

Watching her flee, she had cried herself silent for countless nights, believing she was not even a minor concern to the woman who gave her life.

With every tear that had fallen, a fresh, raw wound was etched onto her heart.

The wounds did not heal easily. But she desperately wanted them to heal.

She craved the confirmation that she was not the problem. That was why she had clung to Emily. If Emily would only accept her as a daughter, hold onto her.

She had thought that assurance would prove her mother’s departure was not her fault. But when Emily left, too, the wounds on her heart had deepened into abysses.

While reeling from the aftermath of Emily’s scars, Jina had simply resigned herself.

It’s my fault. I was lacking. What family could I possibly hope for…

She had given up on the dream entirely.

Yet now, Ian was whispering that he could give her the sweet dream she had cast aside.

And he was offering her a new path. Not clinging to others for love, but creating another being and giving that being love.

Jina allowed herself to imagine it for a moment. A small child, walking, holding her hand.

They would surely hold her hand tightly and never let go.

Just as she had been held in her childhood.

She was too tired to crave love any longer. So, she would create a being who would cling only to her.

A deep, profound joy bloomed on Jina’s face. It was the quiet, radiant smile of someone who had wandered through a bottomless, hopeless labyrinth for a very long time and had finally seen the distant, guiding light.

Ian rose from the bed. Then, from the scattered clothes he had discarded, he took out a small, velvet-covered box. It was the piece of jewelry he had commissioned that day, which had just arrived. It was the result of the minute measurements he had taken by biting her finger. A small metal and jewel, the trinket Humans used to mark their possession.

It should have been finished long ago, but his particular nature, constantly pointing out flaws, had delayed its completion.

Only today had it finally taken a perfectly satisfactory form. And now, Jina was poised to accept the powerful method he proposed.

Ian opened the box. He took out the ring and slowly slipped it onto her finger. The glittering stone, which symbolized eternity to Humans, shone brilliantly, catching the low light.

Ian kissed her hand and spoke the words Jina had desperately longed to hear:

“I love you.”

This was the most incomprehensible, devastating emotion he had felt since his existence began. In his world, only the relationship of eating and being eaten was the supreme law.

And then, occasionally, he would encounter the odd Humans who, knowing they faced death, would still approach him. They would cry out the names of those they loved, who had been consumed before them, and claim to be avenging their loved ones.

Love.

What was the force that drove them toward a certain death, despite their crippling fear and despair?

But now, he could finally comprehend that emotion.

A being with whom he had no fundamental connection had become more important than his own survival. A single smile from her felt like gaining the world, and a single tear made him want to commit universal slaughter.

An ecstatic and blinding emotion where his entire reality was filled solely with the other.

Now, Ian could understand that emotion.

So, he gave the person who had shown him a new world the same joy and ecstasy he himself felt. And…

Ian gently pulled Jina into a deep, possessive embrace.

He would promise her eternity. And he would give her everything her dark heart desired.

Jina, who had been still, slowly reached out and grasped his arm. Her hands, fumbling upwards, cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.

Her eyes, having just received the promise of love, held only him in the entirety of the world.

The two bodies fell back onto the disheveled bed together.

The next morning, on the sheets that were more aggressively tumbled than ever before, he knew with absolute certainty.

His offspring had finally taken root in Jina’s womb.

Thwack!

With a sickening, loud crack, one of the mansion’s guards was hurled against the wall.

His neck, which tumbled limply toward the floor, was completely twisted backward. Seeing the impossible angle, everyone knew. He had already breathed his last.

There were no screams, no sounds of lament. Everyone lowered their heads, stoically accepting the insignificant death.

Amidst the terrible silence, only Ian breathed heavily, unable to suppress the raw, terrifying edges of his rage.

“Damn it.”

He ground his teeth, staring at the Human who had died so easily from a single touch of his hand.

I made a mistake.

He hadn’t intended to kill him in the first place.

But the moment he heard the report that the intruder had not been properly stopped, all his reason had been utterly paralyzed, and his hand was already throttling the guard’s neck.

Ian looked at the people standing around him. They were now Humans he completely dominated, bodies and minds bound by his power.

They were insignificant, yet absolutely essential. Beings who must dedicate themselves until Jina safely gives birth to his offspring.

My offspring.

Just recalling those two words made Ian’s breath hitch again.

From the moment he realized his Seed had taken root in Jina’s womb, he had felt a strange, unprecedented sensation.

A primal, distant emotion, a dizzying mixture of joy and fear, paralyzed his rationale. For him, offspring had always been something to be consumed, but this was the first time he had created one.

He was death itself. And he was now creating life.

If he had created it entirely alone, he wouldn’t have been this excited. But now, Jina was the vessel, the one carrying his child.

From the moment the mating was successful, Jina had begun to exude an incredibly intoxicating sweetness that was driving him to the brink of madness.

It was an intense, overpowering scent, as if all the sweetness he had felt from her until now had been a meager lie. Because of it, Ian remained in a state of hyper-excitement all day, every day.

That alone had made the mansion staff’s lives a living hell, but today, his simmering temper had finally exploded.

Looking at the dead Human lying on the floor, Ian gave a short, sharp order to Kushi, who was lying down near the other Humans, watching him nervously.

“Eat.”

Kushi whined, a low, reluctant sound, and slowly approached the body. Its reluctance was clear.

Coming closer, Kushi opened its maw. If it were in the past, it would have eagerly chewed and swallowed, but now…

A long, thick tongue slithered out from Kushi’s starfish-like split mouth and licked the dead guard.

Ian let out a hollow, dismissive laugh, watching Kushi’s actions. A monster that was full and therefore refused to eat.

Compared to him, who felt an endless, consuming hunger, Kushi was incomplete, a creature with annoying limitations, but he hadn’t expected to see this sight.

For a moment, Ian’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Should I kill it?

If he killed it, a new Kushi would be born, compliant and ravenous. So…

As if sensing the lethal direction of his thoughts, Kushi, which had only been tasting moments before, moved its split mouth and aggressively swallowed half the guard’s body.

Then, it worked its mouth full of powerful teeth, noisily gobbling down the meat.

Crunch.

With every bite Kushi took, the wet sound of bones breaking accompanied the guard’s body bending at increasingly grotesque angles.

Ian, having watched enough, turned his head. As if sensing something through the thick walls, he looked toward the upstairs, then immediately turned and strode up the stairs.

After he vanished, Kushi spat out the guard it had been swallowing and dragged the remaining part outside with its mouth.

The remaining people also began to clean up the violent mess, acting as if they were perfectly accustomed to such incidents.

No one spoke it aloud, but they all shared the same, quiet thought.

It’s fortunate that the master’s anger subsided quickly today.

Ian opened the door and entered the master suite. From the bedroom deep within the room, he sensed Jina’s movements; she had just woken up.

As he stepped fully inside, Jina, who had been contorting her face and trembling as if on the verge of a scream, instantly stopped moving.

Then, as if she had never been disturbed, she smiled and greeted him with a calm affection.

“Hello, Ian.”

At her smile, Ian’s own lips curved softly, the tension melting from his face.

He approached Jina and sat beside her, having completely shed the dangerous sharpness he had shown to the employees moments before.

“Why did you wake up so early?”

At his words, Jina looked at the clock on the wall with a bewildered expression.

11:30 AM.

No matter how she calculated it, it wasn’t a time that warranted being told she had woken up early.

Besides, lately, Ian hadn’t been making things difficult for her. Two weeks ago, he had informed Jina that she was pregnant.

It wasn’t particularly surprising news.

Considering they had been intimate every single day like rutting beasts, it was arguably rather late for a pregnancy to finally take hold.

“You didn’t even take a pregnancy test, how do you know?”

“I can tell. I can’t not tell.”

Then, Ian had buried his face in her neck and hadn’t let go for a very long time. After that, Ian had treated Jina like the thinnest, most fragile piece of glass in the world.

If even a slight breeze blew past her, he would become visibly flustered, and if she descended the stairs on her own two feet, he would freeze, reacting as if he had just witnessed the world collapsing into dust.

Jina, who hadn’t expected him to react this way, found his behavior unfamiliar, yet strangely amusing.

But the amusement had lasted only a few days.

Ian had become increasingly sensitive. He would fly into a terrible rage if even a single salad vegetable was wilted, and when her finger was cut by a mere piece of paper while reading, he had raged as if he intended to burn all the books in the world.

Finally, Jina, unable to bear it any longer, had snapped:

“Anyone would think you were the one who was pregnant. And do you know that seeing you like this is the most stressful thing for me right now?”

At her words, Ian had mostly behaved himself.

Only in front of Jina, though; everywhere else, he was even more temperamental, but Jina had no way of knowing that.

Jina stretched and yawned, letting out a soft sigh.

Honestly, she still didn’t feel like she was pregnant. She just felt a bit sleepier than usual.

“Why don’t you sleep a little longer?”

Then, seeing Ian speak with a deeply worried voice, she recalled one more, significant change.

Before, he had acted as if he would die if they didn’t have sex even for a day, engaging in all sorts of brutal, lewd acts.

There wasn’t a day when his overwhelming scent didn’t linger heavily between her legs, and most days were spent rolling around, utterly covered in him from head to toe.

And that wasn’t all.

He had licked every part of her body as if she were made of candy, and when she pleaded that she couldn’t take any more, he would use his mouth, her breasts, her hair, and even her armpits to achieve the desired effect of stimulation.

But from the moment he mentioned the pregnancy, Ian only held her hand, not touching her further.

Thanks to that, Jina slept very long hours every day.

But… it’s not comfortable.

She placed her hand on her belly. It had been two weeks since he mentioned the pregnancy. If so, it should be nothing more than a tiny clump of cells now, but when she touched her belly, she felt a definite bulge for some strange reason.

Strange.

She didn’t know much about pregnancy, but she knew that a fetus couldn’t grow enough to be felt already.

Moreover, it wasn’t just the physical change that felt uncomfortable.

And the nightmares…

She had been having the most disturbing, vivid dreams every night. She dreamt that what was inside her belly suddenly grew, tore through her abdomen, and a monster was born from the gore.

Even though it was a dream, it was so vivid and profoundly unpleasant. But strangely, upon waking, the realization that it was a nightmare and the immediate unpleasantness would simply disappear.

More precisely, the frantic urge to scream when she first saw Ian would subside, and she would feel somewhat dazed, even though she was fully awake.

It was the same today. She had definitely woken up feeling the most terrible, crushing dread in the world…

Why did all those feelings disappear the second she saw Ian? While Jina pondered without finding an answer, Ian took her hand and said,

“You didn’t wake up because it was noisy, did you?”

“No, why? Is something wrong?”

“……”

Ian hesitated for a moment, the smooth façade momentarily fracturing.

In truth, the reason he had killed the guard today was because there had been a brazen intruder in the mansion.

The alarm system had reacted immediately, sirens wailing, and the dispatched guards had apprehended him.

The intruder was a worker from Aylesford. Strikes and protests had been ongoing for months due to the abysmal factory working conditions.

Wasn’t that why the Chairman had been attacked a few months ago?

Even after that, negotiations had not progressed, and the volatile situation remained stagnant.

Then, a few days ago, the workers had suddenly gathered and descended upon London.

Previously, they would have protested at the Aylesford headquarters, but this time, they continued their relentless demonstration in front of the mansion in Hampstead Heath.

Aylesford had reported it to the police as an illegal demonstration, but the protesters claimed they were simply taking a walk, and the man following them was a stranger.

They walked in a line with protest slogans plastered to their bodies, but if they insisted it was a benign walk, the police had no standing to stop them.

Because of that, the police had no effective way to suppress the protesters.

Then, today, one of them, seizing on a momentary lapse in surveillance, had violently climbed over the mansion’s wall.

Ian bit his lip.

When the factory worker climbed the wall, cheers erupted from the crowd outside. If this continued, the crowd outside would keep trying to cross the boundary into the mansion.

There was one clear way to deal with them. That was for him to step forward and negotiate with them.

The police were also subtly recommending it. They had delicately suggested to Ian that Aylesford should compromise, hoping he would come out and face the workers’ representatives himself.

Normally, they would demand the Chairman’s appearance, but he was stubbornly not returning from Germany.

Moreover, no one in the business world was unaware that Ian was now the de facto power at Aylesford. Therefore, the workers, worried that things would drastically change after the Chairman’s inevitable death, were demanding Ian’s appearance.

A fresh surge of irritation hit him.

These were beings who would die without even a whimper, like the guard he had just killed, if he simply consumed them.

However, this time, Ian decided to step back and protect himself.

To protect this comfortable nest where Jina resided.

After a moment of charged hesitation, he opened his mouth.

“Jina, I think I’ll have to be away for a few days.”

The next day, before leaving, Ian performed a final, chilling survey of the mansion.

The mental suppression of the mansion’s employees had already been perfected and was absolute. Thus, even if they witnessed a person die before their eyes, or saw Kushi devouring a guard, they considered everything ‘natural’ and ordinary.

Without him even needing to give orders, they had already fabricated excuses for not leaving the mansion to their families or loved ones.

If anyone noticed their family’s prolonged absence and came looking, it would be too late.

All evidence would be safely entombed in Kushi’s belly, and their close colleagues, while offering condolences to the families, would provide no coherent clues about their whereabouts.

Despite all this, he was still uneasy, so he summoned Kushi and issued a final, terrifying order:

“Do not let anything enter. And absolutely ensure Jina is not harmed.”

Kushi responded by prostrating itself flat on the floor. Although it had been acting brazenly towards him lately, Kushi knew the truth well.

If it failed to obey his command, its Master would grant it the terrifying gift of eternal annihilation.

He returned to the room and lingered, a silent, satisfied echo of the moments he’d just claimed. When he emerged, Kushi could tell with his keen sense of smell that his master had licked between his Female’s legs for a long time before getting down.

He saw the slick sheen still clinging to his master’s face, not completely wiped clean. It was a trophy, one that Kushi acknowledged with a calm blink before taking up his silent post outside the front of the mansion.

The time to execute his master’s directives was now.

“Mmm……”

Jina shifted from where she’d been lying on her left side, starting a slow, luxurious roll to the right. Once, twice, three times.

The bed Ian had newly ordered was ridiculously vast. She didn’t even make it halfway across after three full rotations. She’d once commented that rolling around was the most comfortable thing in the world, and he’d clearly taken it as a challenge to turn the entire room into a mattress if he could.

Thinking she might just start rolling the other way again, she pushed herself slowly into a sit.

She hadn’t decided on anything in particular. She only felt that if she stayed down, she would truly spend the entire day, from morning until night, trapped in the silken sheets.

But what did it matter?

She had nothing, truly, to do.

No one demanded her presence, and besides Ian, there was no one who mattered to meet. He was the sole being of consequence in her world now.

Her only task was to wait for his return, to remain still and beautiful, like a large, decorative plant by the window.

It was entirely natural.

“……No.”

After a long blank stare at nothing, Jina swung her legs out of the absurdly high bed. Though the stillness had felt appropriate moments ago, a sudden, urgent impulse to move, to occupy space, clawed its way up from her gut.

There were clothes now, a few simple ensembles Ian had brought after she’d once wandered out wearing only a slip and encountered the staff.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

The other people in the mansion bowed their heads when they saw Jina. They would not dare speak unless she initiated it.

It was only natural.

What business did they—insignificant, skittish prey—have in looking at her? It was the same as standing naked before a feral beast; she felt nothing different.

Still, Jina dressed and went outside the sanctuary of the bedroom. The mansion was quiet and impeccably neat, as always.

Walking down the hallway, Jina tried to pinpoint a destination. She considered it for a long, dull moment before finally heading toward the kitchen.

She couldn’t think of any other place she might go.

The recollection of the space finally clicked, and she moved with a lightened step.

She remembered the kitchen. It had been full of chefs, bustling with the sounds and smells of work before meal times…

Clutching the faint memory, Jina yanked open the heavy metal door. She had expected to be met with the familiar sounds, smells, and people.

“……Huh?”

The kitchen was shrouded in an eerie, suffocating silence.

It was steeped in a deep, bone-old chill, devoid of the warmth that had lingered in her memory.

“Why… is no one here?”

There had definitely been people. They cherished this space. The oven had always been kept warm, and the countertops overflowing with fresh ingredients.

Jina pressed her temples.

She felt like she had talked and gotten along with the staff here, but bizarrely, their faces and names refused to surface.

“Are you alright?”

A female employee, who must have been following her, rushed in from outside the room and caught Jina as she stumbled against the wall.

Jina shook off the hand and moved farther into the room.

It was wrong.

Even at its busiest, this place had been spotless. But what were these cooking utensils, scattered haphazardly across the cold floor?

It wasn’t just a dropped item or two. The mess looked like desperate, haphazard traces, as if they had been thrown to block something that was rapidly approaching.

Jina picked up a clean cooking utensil, one that still gleamed despite its age, and addressed the employee.

“Why is no one here? Where did everyone go?”

“Everyone? I’m not sure who you’re referring to,” the employee asked, an apologetic expression tightening her face as she failed to grasp Jina’s question.

“The chefs who were here. Surely… Huh? Wait…?”

How many were there?

No, had there been… any at all?

Jina grasped for the memories that were dissolving like sugar on her tongue, but nothing came.

It was a familiar sense of mental fuzziness. The same haziness that overtook her every morning when she woke up next to Ian.

“Was there… truly no one here?”

She asked again, her voice pleading with the end of her vague memory, but the employee only shook her head with a worried, pitying look.

“If you are feeling unwell, please tell me. I’ll escort you upstairs.”

The woman tried to take Jina’s arm, urging her toward the exit.

Jina immediately shook her off. There was a strange, subtle force in the action, a clear intent to send her back to the bedroom.

“It’s fine. I’ll go up myself.”

She answered curtly, her tone intentionally sharp, and swept past the employee, leaving the kitchen. She felt that if she hadn’t been deliberate, she would have been forcibly contained.

Hurrying up the stairs, she looked out at the mansion, which remained unnervingly quiet.

The space was the same, yet the difference was a sinister one: it seemed quieter now than it had moments before.

She scanned the floor to see why, and realized the number of staff moving through the interior seemed to have drastically diminished.

Then, Jina’s eyes snagged on another employee. He was sitting curled up in a corner, trembling, his head cradled in his hands.

It was an obviously strange, worrying sight. Naturally, she should approach him, ask what was wrong, and call for others—tell them someone was unwell…

But even as the thought formed, Jina simply walked past him.

The instinctive urge to help warred with the immediate, overwhelming feeling that their actions had nothing to do with her. The thoughts coexisted, paralyzing her will.

Jina walked slowly through the mansion.

It was quiet, but people exhibiting behavior similar to the trembling man were scattered everywhere.

Some were huddled in corners, seeking the tightest possible fetal curl, while others were unnervingly motionless, as though their breath had already stopped.

Jina walked among them as if nothing were amiss.

The mansion, despite the quiet distress of its occupants, was still a cozy space for her.

After looking around the whole floor, she came to a stop at the mansion’s main entrance. Normally, at least one heavy door would be propped open, but today, every single one was firmly sealed.

When was the last time I went outside?

A sudden, sharp feeling of suffocation hit her, and she fought to recall her last outing.

…I have no memory of going out.

She definitely remembered the return. She had come back with Ian from the Sandringham hunting grounds.

Since that day, she realized, she hadn’t stepped foot outside the doors.

I should go out.

As the thought struck, she reached for the handle and opened the door. Kushi was sitting on the exterior steps. He stood as he saw Jina emerge.

She expected the tail wag, the hopeful whine, the invitation for a scratch behind the ears. Instead, Kushi just stood there, gazing at her.

The moment their eyes locked, she knew. Kushi would not let her leave.

The sudden, irrational emotion that flooded her was rage.

How dare he?

What right did this insignificant, inferior creature have to monitor her now?

In that instant, a cruel, explicit fantasy flashed through Jina’s mind. She imagined reaching out, snapping his neck, slamming his carcass against the wall, shattering his fragile limbs.

A human couldn’t possibly harm Kushi that way. But she could, now. If she were under the protection of Ian and his offspring…

The moment the thought solidified, a violent wave of nausea crested, along with a powerful sense of disgust. Jina looked down at the slight swell of her belly.

I have to kill this.

Her eyes clouded over as Ian’s words, whispered to her before he left, echoed in her head.

<Don’t think about anything.>

“Ugh…”

Covering her mouth, Jina hunched over, a strained, pained sound escaping her throat. Kushi watched her, silent and unmoving.

After a long minute, Jina raised her head. The tormented expression was gone, replaced by a faint, practiced smile. She extended her hand to Kushi.

“Kushi, were you guarding the house? Aren’t you cold?”

At her empty smile, Kushi finally whined, wagging his black tail with a whooshing sound, and rubbed his face into her hand.

“I shouldn’t go out after all. Ian told me to stay inside.”

Whine.

As if agreeing, he sat down and gazed up at her. Jina stroked Kushi’s head one last time, then turned and closed the door firmly.

It occurred to her that she hadn’t handled Kushi’s meals since he came to stay.

Where on earth was Kushi’s food kept?

There had to be treats, too.

Thinking this, Jina began to search every corner of the house.

She finally checked the corner of a small, discreet staircase at the very back, wondering if it was meant for the staff building, and saw a cardboard box sitting there, slightly askew.

What a strange thing.

The mansion staff kept the interior meticulously, obsessively clean.

Curious, she approached and looked at the top. For a moment, Jina doubted her own sight.

There was Korean writing—a language she was steadily forgetting—and it bore her name.

She slowly traced the characters, one by one, and the meaning rushed back:

My beloved daughter.

Jina.

The moment the realization struck, Jina frantically began to tear at the box.

“Mom.”

The word tore from her lips before she could stop it.

“Mom, Mom…”

Like a lost child trapped in the choking dark, Jina desperately mumbled the name, clinging to it.

The box was taped tight with multiple layers, sealed as if to prevent it from bursting open during transport. Finally, unable to bear the crippling impatience, Jina grabbed a sharp ornament nearby and began to rip the tape like she was tearing flesh.

When the box finally yielded, Jina covered her mouth to suppress the scream that tried to claw its way out.

Inside the heavy carton was a thick bundle of yellow paper covered in strange, angry red script.

Jina knew what this was.

Long ago, after her mother had left, Jina had looked up what her mother did back in Korea. She had learned about the strange papers.

After that, whenever they appeared in a passing Asian movie, she would wordlessly change the channel.

Why were these filling this box? And why…

I’m scared.

Jina threw the box onto the floor like a piece of burning garbage and stumbled back a step.

It was only paper. But a sheer, unreasoning terror emanated from it, cold and crippling.

I should order them to burn it all immediately…

Suddenly, the thought felt alien. If she truly hated it, she could just throw it in the trash right now. She would have at least kicked it away.

But subconsciously, she was reaching for someone else to deal with it. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of touching the papers.

As if she knew, deep down, that she shouldn’t.

As she stood there trembling for a long time, staring at the paper, a voice echoed from the deepest well of her consciousness.

—This is your last chance.

A chance? For what?

Wasn’t a chance only given to those who were in a bad situation?

Everything, here, was perfect.

She was in the coziest, safest place in the world, loved by Ian, and carrying his child.

She could acquire anything she desired, and everyone in her orbit bowed their heads in deference.

It was a life anyone would wish for… a chance?

A chance to throw all of this away?

That wouldn’t be a chance. That would be a trap. Even as her conscious mind argued, the voice from her core spoke a different truth.

Jina looked at the paper more closely.

She had thought they were all the same, but the script was subtly different on each.

Then, she noticed a plain white paper tucked between the brilliant yellow.

The writing was different too. A short letter written in black ink, not the threatening red.

Jina carefully picked up the letter, taking extreme care not to brush against the other talismans.

Again, it was the Korean writing she could barely read.

Jina, Mom was wrong.

The moment those three words registered, her throat tightened to a painful knot.

It was the phrase she sometimes heard in the depths of her dreams. It was the one admission Jina had yearned for most.

That it wasn’t her fault. That Mom was wrong.

She knew she shouldn’t blame her mother. If her mother judged the marriage unsalvageable, she had every right to end it.

And her mother hadn’t completely abandoned her upbringing, either.

While they were together, she had been devoted, caring for Jina with a suffocating, powerful love.

Even after leaving, the child support payments were never missed—often they were far more generous than requested.

That was why Jina had suffered all the more. If she had been neglected from the start, she wouldn’t have missed her. But her mother had so clearly loved her.

And now, she confirmed that love again through the hastily scribbled note.

I didn’t abandon you. I should have taken you with me, even though it would have been hard for you. I didn’t know it would be like this. Please, come out of there. Take what Mom sent you.

Jina bit her lip, staring at the desperate scrawl.

Her instincts screamed the truth.

The moment she touched what her mother had sent, something irreversible would happen. She would see the ‘real’ thing.

But there was no time for contemplation.

Woof!

As if sensing her internal conflict, Kushi barked loudly from outside the door. A paralyzing chill shot down Jina’s spine.

Had she ever heard such a sound since Kushi came to the mansion?

Kushi always whined, making the soft, weak sounds of a normal dog in her presence. He had never barked like this for her to hear.

Woof!

Kushi’s second bark echoed, sharp as a rifle shot. In that instant, something she’d read on the internet shortly after meeting Camilla rushed back to her.

She had reacted excessively to Kushi’s name. Though she’d dismissed it, a sudden memory surfaced, and she’d searched the word.

She’d found a chilling website about Scottish folklore. The descriptions of the monster called a Cu Sìth were all terrifying.

An ancient, legendary monster in the form of a black dog. A creature that hunted men in the wilderness and brought nothing but misfortune.

It was said that hearing its cry three times would inevitably lead to a terrible fate.

It barked twice!

Now, if Kushi barks just one more time…!

The instant her thoughts reached that terrifying precipice, Jina frantically grabbed the bundle of papers from inside the box.

Instantly, the world began to warp. Slowly, agonizingly, it peeled away like cheap wrapping paper, revealing the true form underneath.

The beautiful decorations, the neat curtains, the fine, expensive furniture…

“What… is this…”

Jina, clutching the yellow papers in her hand, stared around. The space she stood in was a vision of absolute hell.

Thick, crusted blood trickled down the walls, and a torn human arm lay beneath what had once been a luxurious curtain.

Brown fur, undoubtedly human hair, was matted into the shards of a broken window, and black mold, blooming from dark red stains, covered the ceiling.

A mansion made entirely of blood and bones revealed itself before Jina’s horrified eyes.

The world had changed in an instant. Jina, clutching the papers like a life raft, sank to the ground.

Moments ago, the mansion had been her pleasant sanctuary. Now, it was a terrifying abattoir.

“Hhng…”

Jina gasped, overwhelmed by the stench of rising, fetid blood. At the same time, the heavy front door burst open with a deafening crash.

Grrr.

A low, heavy beast’s growl filled the air. She didn’t have to turn her head to know it was Kushi’s cry.

Jina slowly turned. Kushi stood at the end of the hallway.

The Kushi she knew was an ordinary dog with slightly floppy ears and short, soft black fur.

That was Kushi…

Grrrrl.

The creature making that chilling sound at the end of the hallway could not be called a dog.

Its only resemblance was that it stood on four legs; its head was a mouth that split open like a grotesque starfish, filled with rows upon rows of needle-sharp teeth, and it was trembling.

Jina held her breath. She knew that appearance. Memories flashed, and she frantically searched her mind for context.

Her head was a dizzying chaos. She had seen this. But it was a thing that could never exist in reality.

When she had described Kushi looking like this monster, Ian had told her she was hallucinating. That she’d had a terrible dream.

When had he said that?

The kidnappers!

The moment she recalled that horrific day, the memories she had pushed into the deepest, darkest vault of her consciousness returned with vivid, sickening clarity.

The kidnappers, Kushi entering the room, the splitting mouths, the bodies being torn and swallowed.

How…

How had she forgotten that?

In shock and terror, Jina clenched the paper, its sharp edges biting into her palm. She couldn’t draw a breath as she stared at Kushi.

He was stalking closer.

The beast was intelligent. It must have realized by now that she had seen its true, hideous form.

And now, if Kushi barked just one more time…

A paralyzing cold seeped into her bones, yet cold sweat tracked a chilling path down her chin.

Tap, tap. Her teeth hammered together, an involuntary percussion from her shaking body.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The sound was no longer the light tap of a dog’s paws on the marble. Now, the approaching footsteps couldn’t conceal their heavy, sickening weight.

The putrid smell intensified. The stench of rotting blood and spoiled flesh—Kushi’s scent.

Grrr.

Kushi stopped a few feet from Jina, made a low sound, and inhaled the air with a ragged sniff.

Then, as if she were a ghost, he shook his star-shaped maw and stalked past her.

“……?”

Kushi continued to sniff around various dark corners, moving as if he hadn’t registered her existence at all.

Jina looked down at the paper clutched in her hand.

This is it.

This must be what her mother had sent: a shield, a ward that allowed her to evade the monster’s eyes.

Jina reached out cautiously and grasped the remaining papers in the box.

Rustle.

Grrr!

The faint sound of the thin paper crumpling caused Kushi to whirl around. Yet, still seeing nothing, the beast tilted its grotesque head and turned away, resuming its search.

Watching Kushi retreat, Jina slowly straightened. She knew her task now.

She had to escape this place.

Where?

She quickly sorted through the mental geography of her life. Where could she run to right now?

The houses of her friends were the first thought, but Ian would find her there in minutes. Worse, thinking of the fates of the staff, her friends might suffer a similar end if they were discovered.

She had to escape to a place with no connection to her life. To do that…

I need money.

But money wasn’t enough. To hide anywhere, she also needed identification.

Where is it all?

Her mind, which had been under a strange, thick enchantment, now began to clear, flooding her with old memories.

The more she remembered, the more insane it seemed. How had she gone weeks without wondering about her belongings?

There’s nothing left in my room.

Where had her possessions gone?

She assumed most were discarded, but Ian, controlling and meticulous, would have kept a few key items.

Still shaking, Jina lifted the box and hugged it to her chest.

She wanted to bolt out the door immediately. But how far would she get? With trembling hands, she picked up the box that had fallen to the floor.

This paper, her mother’s desperate offering, was clearly the only thing that could hide her from Ian and Kushi’s terrible sight.

That was why it had been left undisturbed, sitting in the corner.

Kushi, in its true, monstrous form, was still roaming the hallway, searching for the source of the unease he felt.

Sniffing and examining every corner, the beast looked ready to rip apart anything it found.

Jina carefully lifted the box. The bundled papers were heavier than she expected, but she couldn’t afford to lose a single sheet.

Feeling the paper grow slick with her sweat, she crept toward the second floor.

Every time Jina moved, Kushi would snap his attention to her location, sensing something wrong, yet he only tilted his head, seeing nothing but empty air.

Holding her breath until her lungs burned, Jina reached the second-floor hallway. The moment she stood there, she had to gather every last reserve of strength to keep from vomiting.

She had believed the mansion was pristine, but the second floor was even more horrific than the first.

Jina’s gaze fell upon wide, long stains of blood stretched across the floor and climbing the walls like ghastly vines.

Who on earth died here?

As she forced herself to take a step, she felt a sticky sensation under her feet, the tell-tale sign of old, wet fabric. She looked down at the dark red carpet.

It had seemed fine when she came down moments ago, but not now.

The color, the texture—it was the unmistakable residue of congealed blood spilled long ago.

Walking down a hallway now filled with blood, broken bones, and decaying flesh, Jina began to hyperventilate.

The mansion was a rubbish heap, a charnel house filled with human fragments.

Because she had to step with such meticulous care, it took several times longer than normal to return to the bedroom.

Jina trembled, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She gritted her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and pushed the door open.

As always, it opened with a smooth, silent glide.

She stepped into the room, but couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.

She couldn’t bear to imagine what the space she had called comfortable might truly look like.

But she couldn’t linger. She knew her mother’s yellow paper wouldn’t protect her indefinitely.

With a sudden, fierce resolve, she slowly opened her eyes.

“Haa…”

The sigh of relief escaped her before she realized it.

Unlike the sheer horror outside, Ian’s room, where she had been confined, was blessedly intact, just as she remembered it.

Thump.

Jina closed the door, hugged the box of papers, and sank onto the floor. She struggled to control her ragged breathing, her body still convulsing with tremors.

The disgusting smell of the hallway still clung to her clothes, her skin.

She didn’t doubt what she had seen, but the reality she faced was confusing and utterly terrifying.

“Hooep…”

Stifling a sob, Jina grabbed a handful of the papers and scrambled back to her feet.

No time to cry.

Gathering strength in her wobbly legs, Jina immediately opened the closet.

She changed into the thickest, most durable clothes Ian had packed, then headed for his private study.

Unlike the lavishly decorated bedroom, his study was starkly simple.

Though it was only one door away, she had never crossed the threshold since living with him, and everything about the room felt foreign.

Jina rushed to his large desk.

Had he been reading?

Books from various, seemingly random fields were scattered open on the desktop. It looked as if he had been indiscriminately devouring knowledge.

Jina yanked open the center desk drawer.

It held stationery, neatly organized. Her hands frantically rummaged through the contents.

But even after searching the entire drawer, she couldn’t find her identification or any of the personal belongings she needed.

“Damn it!”

Grinding her teeth, she opened the adjacent drawer. The sight of the contents made her face relax slightly.

The drawer was packed with thick stacks of crisp banknotes, untouched and pristine.

Jina found a large satchel in the room and hastily stuffed every bundle of cash she could find into it.

It wasn’t just money. She also snatched up expensive-looking watches and fountain pens. Anything would be useful.

She crammed the items in haphazardly, then reached for the handle of the rearmost drawer.

“……!”

An indescribable, dizzying wave of nausea exploded from her hand and spread through her entire body.

She snatched her hand back, staring at the drawer.

It looked identical to the others, but she knew now. This drawer contained something horrific.

Jina hesitated.

What could possibly be inside to trigger such a visceral reaction?

Her trembling hand reached for the handle again. She had just survived a peek into Hell. She was determined to see the end of this tragedy.

Jina gritted her teeth and pulled the drawer open.

Clatter.

Her rough action sent the contents of the drawer spilling out. Jina’s eyes widened at the gruesome mess.

“……What is this?”

The other drawers were neatly organized.

This one was different. It was a jumble of tangled items, a chaotic mess, like a trash can.

After staring for a moment, Jina understood.

The contents of the drawer belonged to other people, not Ian.

She picked up the topmost item: a rectangular acrylic name tag with rounded corners, the kind the staff in this mansion wore.

She threw it on the floor and picked up something else.

“This is…”

This time, a watch.

Perhaps due to immense shock, the glass was shattered, and the hands had stopped. Dark red stains marred the leather band.

Jina recognized the watch.

The oldest cook in the kitchen had shown it to her several times, boasting that his wife and children had bought it for him for his 60th birthday.

Jina couldn’t bring herself to turn the watch over to check for the engraving. She dropped it instead.

She knew what this drawer was.

One item, one person.

This was a tomb for those who had been sacrificed to him. And it looked like a garbage dump, tossed in without a single trace of respect or care…

Jina pulled the entire drawer out and emptied its contents onto the floor. Everything spilled out with a metallic clatter.

Then, something from the very bottom glinted on top of the pile. A thick, rough ring set with a dull red carnelian stone.

Jina knew exactly what it was.

It was the item that had been reported missing in the newspapers for weeks.

“Count Carrington’s ring…”

On the day she was kidnapped, she had seen wrinkled hands wearing this ring beneath her blindfold. And she had been told the ring’s owner had simply slipped on the mansion stairs and died from a broken neck.

But why would a man who died in an accident have his treasured possession in Ian’s drawer?

There was only one answer.

“……He killed him.”

It wasn’t a fall. Ian had killed him.

Memories swirled into a sickening vortex. Ian, who had talked about the Carrington family’s involvement.

Count Carrington, who had come to see her. The deceased Count Carrington, the kidnappers…

Had Ian really been far away that day, rushing back only after receiving a call?

“That’s impossible.”

A voice filled with cold certainty and a sneer escaped her lips. Jina knew the truth now.

Ian must have known about the Carrington family’s movements from the beginning.

He must have watched them take her. Then, he appeared at the last moment, cleaned up the bloody mess with Kushi, and staged her ‘rescue.’

Grind.

Jina ground her teeth, consumed by a disgust so profound it transcended self-pity for the fool she had been. She had clung to him, believing him to be her savior. At the same time, a furious rage swelled toward Ian.

How much must he have laughed internally while she pleaded with him, offering him everything?

Jina tucked Count Carrington’s ring into her satchel.

Everything in this drawer was evidence of a monster, but this was the most potent piece.

The Carrington family was desperate for this ring; they would be of some use.

After securing the ring, she continued to sift through the rubbish. Then, she saw a small, star-shaped piercing lying on the floor. She remembered this, too.

Where did I see this?

She paused, then recalled the owner.

Inspector Haywood had shown her a photo of a woman, asking if she had seen her at a hotel.

That woman had clearly had this very piercing on her cheek. Her mind reeled. How long had this monster been preying on people, and how many?

I need to contact Inspector Haywood.

She remembered his words at the hospital. That everyone who had disappeared was Human.

Jina put the piercing in her bag and stood up. She returned to the bedroom and shoved all of her mother’s protective papers into the satchel.

As Jina was about to bolt from the room—

Bzzzz!

The mobile phone vibrated violently on the bedside table.

Jina froze, her blood turning to ice. She didn’t need to check the screen to know.

He was the only contact left on the device.

[Ian]

The name she once believed to be her savior was flashing relentlessly.

Ian always left his phone beside her when he went out briefly.

It contained no other contacts, only his number.

The old Jina would have kept it with her all day, but since returning from the hunting ground, she hadn’t looked at it, except when talking to him.

If she answered, a sweet, honeyed voice would purr from the other end. He would always fret over her condition and promise to return as soon as possible.

He would whine, saying that her absence made his days too long and difficult.

Then, he would casually mention,

“Because you’re not here, I got so hungry that I ate anything.”

At the time, she thought he simply didn’t like the hotel food because she wasn’t cooking anymore.

But now she knew the true, sickening meaning of his words. And on the day he said that, someone must have vanished in whatever city he was in.

The mobile phone continued its insistent, demanding vibration.

Had he called, sensing the change in the atmosphere?

If so, would he unleash a furious roar the moment she answered? Or would he pretend ignorance and gauge her reaction?

Or perhaps he truly had no idea what was happening.

But one thing was certain. If she answered the call now, she would only unleash a torrent of curses.

She glared at the vibrating phone, which seemed to compel her to answer.

Even if she didn’t answer, he would hang up and call again. The monster never gave up.

The persistent calls, like a terrifying search, sent shivers down her spine. The affection shown by this man who had so perfectly deceived her was horrifying, repugnant.

Jina looked at her hand.

The ring the monster had given her when he proposed sparkled beautifully in the afternoon sun. She roughly ripped it off. Then, with no lingering attachment, she threw the constantly ringing phone and the ring with all her might. She didn’t wait to hear them hit the wall. She simply turned and fled.

In the beautiful, pristine room Jina had abandoned, only the insistent ringing and the ring rolling on the floor remained.

Jina, clutching the paper, hurried back into the blood-soaked hallway and descended the stairs. She encountered a few staff members on her way to the entrance.

They, too, seemed unable to see her, just like Kushi. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be crawling up the stairs like terrified quadrupeds.

Why had she taken their presence for granted until now?

Reaching the first floor, Jina held her breath and cautiously surveyed the hallway.

Far down the corridor, she saw a grotesque shadow moving. Kushi was still patrolling the first floor.

Fortunately, Kushi’s shadow was heading toward the annex attached to the main building.

As the monster’s shadow completely disappeared, she rushed out the front door.

A cool breeze brushed her cheek. She didn’t know how long she had been trapped inside, but the path felt utterly foreign, even though it was her residence.

Instead of the main road leading to the front gate, Jina headed toward the garden. Specifically, a narrow path beyond the manicured bushes, mostly used by the staff.

Even though Kushi can’t see me now.

She still needed to be as safe as possible. So she headed for the side door of the mansion.

The side door, which opened onto a small path marking the boundary with the neighboring mansion, was a place even the staff rarely used.

Fortunately, the rustling sound of fallen leaves under her hurried feet was masked by the wind whipping the other leaves.

Though the weather was still cold, sweat soon beaded on Jina’s forehead.

She needed to leave this mansion as soon as humanly possible.

How do I get the Inspector’s contact information?

In this devastating situation, she couldn’t think of anyone else who could possibly help her. Moreover, he seemed like the kind of man who would believe her, even when faced with this utterly absurd reality.

“Ugh…”

As she walked, lost in thought, a sudden, powerful stench made Jina stop and frown.

It was a familiar stench: the smell of rotting blood and flesh that saturated the mansion.

Why here?

Looking around to identify the source, Jina saw a large tree covered in splatters of blood.

The tree made her remember where she was. This was the tree she always saw Kushi heading toward.

She remembered watching Kushi hurry toward it and thinking it was cute, wondering if the dog was going to bury a bone.

As her gaze fell upon the base of the tree—

“Gasp!”

A loud, terrified gasp tore from her throat at the sight of blood-stained, torn clothing beneath it.

That wasn’t all. Protruding from the disturbed soil was a human arm, unmistakable in its form.

The fact that human remains were here, not just inside the mansion walls, made her stomach churn violently.

Jina finally understood why she had never found Kushi’s food anywhere in the mansion. She hadn’t failed to find it; it had simply never been there. Kushi’s food had been alive and moving throughout the house.

Jina, her hand clamped over her mouth, was about to turn and run when she saw something else protruding from the soil. In a sudden, desperate surge of purpose, she bolted for the tree.

Lying beside the clumsily buried arm was a small, dry piece of flesh that looked like shriveled, wriggling skin.

What arrested Jina’s flight was the tattoo carved upon it. She sank to the ground, her hands trembling as she picked up the desiccated tissue.

It was more accurately torn flesh than mere skin.

The gradually warming weather had caused the edges to rot and fester, emitting a nauseating odor, but Jina paid it no mind.

She frantically dug with her bare hands into the surrounding dirt. As she pulled the fragment free, the distinctive tattoo became horribly visible.

She knew the person who bore that mark.

“Jessie…?”

She could hear the girl’s voice as if she were standing there.

The voice that had secretly whispered about her mother being a sorceress. The voice that had sobbed, urging Jina to run away immediately. The voice that had cried out that the monster was deceiving everyone.

Jina clutched the piece of skin and leather she had pulled from the ground to her chest. Gurgling, choked breaths were trapped in her throat, unable to become a full sob.

It was Jessie who had told her to run, who had helped her change into her own clothes. She was the one who suggested they split up to confuse Ian and Kushi.

When Jina had faced Emily, she was being eaten by Kushi.

Jina covered her mouth and wept, a raw, animalistic cry escaping between her fingers.

Just then, a human scream echoed from the direction of the mansion. It was followed by Kushi’s enraged, frustrated growl.

It sounded as if Kushi was taking out its failure to find her on the hapless staff.

Jina swallowed and carefully slipped Jessie’s gruesome fragment into her pocket. The rotten part left a filthy stain on her clothes, but she didn’t care.

She only felt a crippling misery at having to take her friend away like this.

Staggering, she pushed herself up. A surge of rage, sharper and more potent than the betrayal she felt toward Ian, exploded in her chest.

I’ll kill them.

She would kill every one of these monsters who mocked, deceived, and finally tore humans apart to eat.

Jina continued along the path and reached the side gate.

Fortunately, the gate had no complex lock. It was the kind that could be easily opened from the inside, so the moment she pressed the button and pushed the door open—

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Suddenly, the red lights of a siren attached to the wall flashed, and a shrieking warning sound blared across the garden.

She had been discovered.

Jina roughly shoved the door open and stepped out, then ran directly toward the main road. She had to get away quickly, somehow flagging down a passing car.

She ran alongside the wall until she reached the road that connected to the street. The moment she did, she was forced to skid to a halt, seeing the crowd of people.

This was one of London’s most exclusive, affluent neighborhoods.

It was a place where mansions as large as small parks were gathered.

Most residents traveled by car, and the only pedestrians were people strolling to and from the nearby park.

So, what was the meaning of this massive crowd?

Then she saw the paper signs attached to their bodies.

They stated that the Aylesford Group would continue to employ the workers as promised.

From the slogans, Jina knew who they were.

She had seen articles about the escalating dispute between the local factory workers and Aylesford.

Hadn’t the chairman himself narrowly escaped an attack then?

The conflict had clearly not been resolved, and the protesters had come all the way to the mansion.

Jina was flustered, but the protesters were equally taken aback.

Only a few days prior, one worker, driven by fury, had tried to climb the wall, causing an uproar.

The guards, who usually had vacant eyes and showed no reaction to their chanting, had rushed forward with terrifying speed and attacked their colleague.

It wasn’t a mere threat. The guards had genuinely tried to kill the man. A major clash had ensued until the police intervened.

It seemed Ian Aylesford, who now held real power, had finally been unnerved enough to appear for negotiations.

They had temporarily halted the protest, but the negotiations stalled, so even knowing Ian wasn’t at the mansion, they had returned.

They wore signs with slogans and demands, walking around the area. Today, they had no intention of aggression and planned to circle the mansion briefly before leaving, but the alarm siren had suddenly blared.

Then, this woman had burst out from the small path beside the mansion wall.

“What the hell, you! Are you the reason this is going off?”

One of the protesters pointed at the flashing red light.

“That woman! She’s Ian Aylesford’s woman! I saw her in a magazine!”

A shout from the crowd sliced through the air.

The people who had been looking in surprise instantly turned hostile eyes toward Jina.

Damn it.

She bit her lip and glanced back. The protesters had already surrounded her.

Even if she ran out onto the road, they would catch her. She desperately wished a car would pass by…

As she frantically looked for a route of escape, one of the protesters suddenly lunged and snatched her hand.

“Ugh!”

The rough jerk caused the paper she was holding to flutter and fall to the ground. Her face instantly went pale.

“No!”

But as her cry left her lips, the main front gate erupted in noise, followed by panicked screams.

“What the hell are these guys doing now!”

“Who’s that son of a bitch!”

Just from the sound, she knew. The moment she dropped the paper, Kushi had sensed her presence.

Jina frantically tried to pull another paper from her bag, but it was too late.

Kushi, tearing through the crowd, was still in its terrifying, monstrous state. Eyes appeared at the edges of its split, quivering mouth, and it growled, its gaze fixed directly on Jina.

To the eyes of others, it still looked like an ordinary black dog, so no one screamed in that particular horror.

But sensing instinctively that something was profoundly wrong, everyone was slowly backing away from the beast.

If I hold the paper again, will it disappear?

As the thought struck her, a worker standing near Jina picked up a piece of the yellow paper that had rolled over in the wind.

“Hiiiiiik!”

He looked at Kushi and let out a strange, high-pitched scream.

He collapsed to the ground, pointing at Kushi, and shouted.

“It’s a monster! A monster! Look, its mouth!”

Oh, God.

Jina stared at the collapsed man, horrified.

She had only thought the paper would hide her presence, but she hadn’t realized it would also make Kushi’s true form visible to others.

The man, blinking several times as if unable to believe his own eyes, scrambled backward on the ground.

“Crazy! What is this!”

Then he violently threw away the paper in his hand.

At that moment, Kushi leaped high into the air.

Everyone watched the sight in frozen shock. Kushi, easily soaring over the heads of the protesters, opened its maw wide.

CRUNCH!

The instant it landed, Kushi’s mouth crushed the head of the man who had collapsed.

The body, seized by Kushi’s bite, convulsed as if in a seizure and then went terrifyingly limp. Red blood gushed onto the street.

“Wh-what……”

The people, who couldn’t comprehend what had just occurred, could only stare, speechless.

Jina saw Kushi crushing the head, but to everyone else, it looked like nothing more than a black dog suddenly leaping high and biting its companion’s neck.

But if that were the case, why was the head crushed and not the neck?

The terrifying discrepancy between what they saw and what they knew to be true transformed instantly into mass horror.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

A woman, the first to truly grasp the carnage, let out a high-pitched scream. Fear and blinding rage instantly infected the gathered crowd.

The brutal, unjust attack on their companion excited those present into a frenzy.

“You bastards!”

A man who had been confronting the guards shoved them aside, drew a telescopic baton, and swung it wildly. The guards did not stand idly by, drawing their own tools to block the protesters.

As fists and kicks flew, the surroundings instantly devolved into a violent, chaotic mess.

Meanwhile, Jina quickly pulled another piece of the paper her mother had sent from her bag.

As she clutched it, she saw Kushi, which had been staring intently at her, look utterly flustered. She was no longer visible to Kushi.

But Kushi was not stupid.

Even if it couldn’t see her, it knew for a certainty that Jina was in this location.

Kushi dropped the human it was holding and approached the exact spot where she stood.

Meeting its gaze, fixed on the invisible air before her, Jina understood what Kushi was thinking. Even if it couldn’t see her, it could still bite her.

Kushi would surely grab her clothes and drag her back into the mansion.

As if to confirm her thought, Kushi’s split mouth curved in what looked like a horrible, mocking sneer. Jina clenched her fist.

The surroundings became even louder.

As the physical altercation intensified, screams and blood were splattering everywhere. Many were already rolling on the ground, wrestling and kicking.

Amidst the chaos, Kushi leisurely opened its mouth, intending to bite Jina’s unseen clothes. At that moment—

BANG!

With a sudden gunshot, one of Kushi’s split mouths flew off.

Jina, along with the protesters and guards entangled in the fight, looked in surprise toward the source of the sound.

SCREEECH!

A small car sped past the frozen people and stopped abruptly. A thin man leaned out of the window, holding a gun, and shouted.

“I am on official duty! Please cooperate! So, everyone move aside!”

Even those who had fallen looked at him with disbelief. But seeing him, a genuine smile of relief cracked Jina’s terrified face.

“Inspector Haywood!”

It was clearly Andy Haywood.

As soon as he got out of the car, he grabbed the staggering Jina.

“Fortunately, you still recognize me. For now, get in the car—!”

His words were cut short. Kushi, staggering from the gunshot, had rushed toward them and was about to bite Andy.

Dodging quickly, he aimed his gun at Kushi again.

BANG!

With the second shot, the people who hadn’t fully grasped the situation finally came to their senses and fled in every direction.

Amidst them, the fallen Kushi writhed on the pavement.

“Shit, this monster……”

Andy’s low mumble made Jina’s eyes widen. He had never held the paper. Yet, he called it a monster.

“Inspector, can you see it?”

“It seems Mr. Troll can see it well too. Don’t even mention it. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to keep seeing these monsters! I could get a doctorate in Scottish folklore now— Ack!”

His incessant muttering stopped as Kushi, who had been struggling, suddenly got up and lunged.

The car’s side mirror shattered and fell off from Kushi’s bite. The car body was dented as if struck by a giant hammer.

“Damn it!”

Andy gritted his teeth at the clear, killing intent in the attack.

Jina touched her stinging cheek. Red blood stained her fingertips. A flying pebble must have grazed her.

Clicking her tongue, she looked at Kushi. Kushi, struggling to regain its footing, met her gaze.

Grrr.

Seeing Jina, Kushi lowered its head as if begging forgiveness, despite its staggering injury.

“……?”

As she wondered why it was acting like that, a voice shouted from inside the car.

“What are you doing! That’s the last bullet! We have to escape quickly!”

The last?

At the despairing words, Jina looked at Andy in surprise. He shrugged and pointed at the man inside the car with his chin.

“Say hello. This is Rob Fisher. He’s the last survivor of Kno Diag. Rob, this is….”

“Now is not the time for introductions… Aaaargh! Monster! That monster!”

Rob, who was gripping the steering wheel, yelled in exasperation and pointed behind Andy.

Jina and Andy turned around.

Kushi, whose two mouths had been blown off by Andy’s shot, was attacking them again.

As if he had expected it, the Inspector skillfully reached through the open window, grabbed a wooden stick from inside the car, and swung it at the charging Kushi like a baseball bat.

The moment she thought the blow couldn’t possibly stop the monster—

Yelp!

Kushi let out the most pathetic, wounded cry it had ever made and was flung far away.

“How……”

Jina stared at Kushi rolling on the ground with a stunned expression.

Kushi was not a monster that could be stopped by human strength or mundane objects. But the Inspector’s gunshot had injured it, and now this stick had sent it reeling.

“How? With the blood from my hand, cut with mistletoe and nettles, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and uh, what else did I mix? Ah! I mixed toad oil and wrote ancient characters on it.”

The Inspector said so, shaking the stick in his hand.

Similar characters to the shapes seen in Kno Diag were carved on the weapon he held.

She didn’t know what, or how, he had done it, but it was clear the Inspector had brought an occult object imbued with power.

It stopped Kushi.

Not only that, but he had fought and defeated it. The moment she realized this, Jina snatched the stick from his hand.

Then, she turned and looked at the sprawled Kushi.

It was the black beast that had always wagged its tail and acted affectionately toward her.

When Jina was on the phone with her friends, it always sat beside her. When they went for walks, it always walked beside her.

She had merely thought it was an intelligent dog. But looking back now, Kushi had been monitoring her actions at every moment.

Jina recalled the fragment of Jessie she had found under the tree before leaving the mansion. The dry skin, with flesh still attached, bore clear, distinct bite marks.

She knew without asking whose marks they were.

Nausea churned within her again. While she had lost her senses and rolled around with Ian in the hunting grounds, this black beast had been tearing apart her friend’s flesh.

It must have leisurely filled its belly, then watched from afar and laughed. As it always did.

If she could, she would shove this stick into Kushi’s monstrous mouth right now.

Then she would want to violate its cursed stomach that had swallowed people, tearing it up. She would break its bones, rip its skin, and then, while it was still alive, burn it.

Even then, her rage and the grievances of the dead would not be appeased.

But…….

Jina remembered what was more urgent.

She had to get out of here.

Jina, clenching her teeth so hard they creaked, pulled out another piece of her mother’s paper.

“Hold this!”

“Huh? What is this….”

“Hold it! You too!”

With Jina’s fierce shout, the Inspector and Rob could only nod and snatch what she handed them.

She opened the car door and got inside. Then, pulling the stunned Inspector in after her, she shouted to Rob.

“Let’s escape! Now!”

Even if the paper made them invisible, it was useless if they dropped it, or if Kushi recognized them again.

Even if the monster was lying down now, it was uncertain if they could completely kill it. Moreover, it would be even more disastrous if it immediately summoned Ian.

As if understanding her thoughts, the Inspector got into the car without another word and slammed the door. Rob stepped on the accelerator without any questions.

The car roared, speeding away from the spot, and quickly disappeared around the corner.

The remaining guards, unsure what to do, turned their heads and only circled around Kushi, as if they hadn’t even registered Jina’s presence from the beginning.

Kushi got up after a long while.

It had not thought mere humans could inflict harm upon it. That had been possible only in the long, ancient past.

Now, there were no humans with such power. Jina, perhaps, seemed capable, but she was a human who had no idea how to use that power…

Krrrk.

Disgusting, slick tentacles writhed and crawled out from the mouth torn by the gunshot. It was an attempt to repair its damaged body.

Then, perhaps lacking strength, one of the tentacles wrapped around a nearby guard and swallowed him instantly.

Only then did the ruined mouth finally regain its original shape and repair itself.

Kushi, having barely mended its torn parts, ran toward where the car carrying Jina had disappeared.

The path’s end offered Kushi only a bewildered look around, with no idea where to chase.

It sniffed diligently, but even that trace had vanished, as if the very scent had been stolen by the wind.

Grrrrrrr.

Unsure what to do, Kushi sniffed harder, but not a single thread of Jina remained for it to follow. It was as if nothing had ever been found inside the mansion walls.

After a long, utterly perplexed hesitation, Kushi realized its failure. There was nothing more it could do.

So, it needed to call its master…

Kushi shivered, the cold sinking into its bones, and it lay down on the stone floor without realizing it. Its tail tucked itself instinctively into its groin as the creature curled up, a dark ball of impending doom.

It didn’t have the confidence to face its master’s monstrous rage when he learned Jina had disappeared.

But if this fact wasn’t reported quickly…

Kushi sensed the catastrophic future of its own making and raised its head, its throat raw with despair.

Woof!

Kushi’s final, desperate cry echoed far away, a sound that would break the fragile peace of a continent.

Ian was starving.

It had already been four corrosive days since he came to Liverpool for these insignificant negotiations. Before he brought Jina into the mansion, he used to go on business trips like this several times with the Chairman.

Back then, the process hadn’t been difficult or bothersome at all. It was simply a dull pleasure to discover that this land was wider and offered more diverse flavors than he had known.

But not now. Every minute and second he couldn’t be beside Jina was an agonizing extension of his terrible hunger and anxiety.

It’s dragging on.

He was now accustomed to human ways. Therefore, he had expected this negotiation to conclude within two days at the latest.

The secretaries had held similar, foolish expectations.

But today, the fourth day, the negotiation continued sluggishly, yielding no result, no surrender, no end to his confinement.

Something is wrong.

He wanted to return to Jina quickly, and the Chairman had squeezed him too hard, so he intended to concede to their demands as much as possible, just to expedite his freedom.

Thus, he had presented a rather generous compromise. He had not only accepted all their requested conditions but also offered a proposal regarding salary and employment duration that was more than abundant.

It was natural for the union representatives’ faces to light up—he’d given them everything they wanted.

When they said they wanted to talk for a moment and went outside, he thought he would be returning to London within a few hours, the negotiation a forgotten speck of dirt.

However, the union side, after finishing their discussion and returning, suddenly changed their stance and presented conditions impossibly different than before.

“A minimum annual salary increase of 10,000 pounds? Do you think that makes sense?”

As the group’s human secretary said incredulously, the union side crossed their arms as if they had nothing to lose.

In the past, the negotiation would have broken down on the spot. He would have simply walked out.

But Ian wanted to ensure they would never bother him further and wanted to put a definitive, violent end to it. He also wanted them to stop approaching his property, his nest.

So, he had deliberately offered generous terms, only for them to demand more. Naturally, the negotiation returned to square one, the tedious human farce continuing to keep him away from his mate.

Eventually, unable to bear the gnawing irritation any longer, he swallowed one of the union members who was loitering in the garden behind the hotel, simply to vent the corrosive pressure in his chest.

Naturally, his ravenous hunger was not sated, and the taste was the worst. But if he didn’t vent his frustration somehow, he felt he might have ended up ripping someone’s head off right there during the negotiation.

Still, after eating, he washed up meticulously and changed his clothes before calling Jina. Even if he wasn’t seeing her directly, he felt reluctant to speak to her while stained with dirt and the taste of human fear.

Should I just leave now?

As he watched the union representatives spouting nonsense again today, his gaze briefly fell on the clock, and Ian smirked, a predator’s flash of teeth.

3 PM.

It was time for his compulsory call to Jina.

If he could, he would have wanted to talk to her all day. He would have been fine with watching her on video continuously, monitoring her every breath.

Even then, his anxiety and hunger wouldn’t have disappeared, but it would have been much better than doing nothing.

However, after becoming pregnant, Jina had become unusually sleepy and tired easily.

Furthermore, with her heightened sensitivity that transcended human senses, Ian decided not to provoke her unnecessarily.

All he had to do was finish everything quickly and return to her side.

Ian suggested resuming the meeting after a short break. As he always proposed at the same time, the other party, as if expecting the routine, quickly rose from their seats.

To have a quiet conversation, Ian entered the lounge next to the conference room and took out his mobile phone.

Then, he saw the union representative sitting on a garden bench outside the window.

Was he trying to smoke? A foul smell had been wafting around, after all.

As he frowned, recalling the unpleasant smell of meat, an unknown man sat down next to the union representative.

They exchanged a few brief words. Then, the man who had sat down left, blending into the crowd.

At first glance, it looked like people who happened to sit on the same bench exchanging light greetings and parting ways.

No.

If that were the case, the union representative’s demeanor was too familiar, too pre-arranged. It was as if they had agreed to meet from the beginning.

Ian took a picture and sent it to his secretary.

[Find out who he is.]

He had a chilling hunch that this man was the reason the negotiation was dragging on.

After sending the text, he quickly called Jina.

As always, he pressed her saved name, and the call went through.

The call rang for a long time, but Jina didn’t answer.

Is she not in her room?

According to the reports from the mansion staff, she rarely left her room, except for occasional strolls within the vast estate. He was very satisfied with her behavior, as if she had forgotten the outside world entirely.

She had mentioned taking walks inside the mansion sometimes, so perhaps it was just bad timing that he called then. But Jina would know he always called at this time…

As it went to voicemail, he hung up and called again. But Jina still didn’t answer.

His secretary informed him that the meeting was resuming, but he kept calling, the phone pressed against his ear, his jaw tightening.

However, as more people began looking for him, he had no choice but to return to the conference room, his patience frayed.

But he couldn’t concentrate at all. The meeting was dragging on anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to halt it now and go to London for a while?

Ian tapped his fingers on the table, the rhythmic sound of his impatience cutting through the air.

An inexplicable anxiety, unlike anything he had felt in the past four days, a cold and terrifying dread, washed over him.

Surely Jina was safe inside the mansion, carrying his offspring. There was nothing that could disturb that perfect peace.

Then why was he so…

The ones suffering because of Ian’s impatience were the Aylesford employees.

The branch manager, in particular, felt as if he could collapse at any moment.

He was already stressed from the continuous media reports, and now the issue had escalated to the point where the next chairman had to come.

Moreover, strangely, he felt more tired next to Ian. A corrosive lethargy seemed to emanate from the heir.

It wasn’t like this before.

He was someone who remembered the Ian of the past.

Previously, Ian had attended the factory’s groundbreaking ceremony here on the chairman’s orders. He hadn’t hidden his reluctance to be there throughout the event, and at night, he had brought a woman from somewhere and behaved disgracefully at the hotel.

How difficult it had been to clean up the mess afterward.

So, when Ian announced he was coming again, he had worried if he needed to prepare a woman.

But Ian, as if he knew nothing of his past, had been quiet.

The union side was complaining about a missing person, but since it was a man, he wouldn’t have been involved with Ian, and…

The negotiation was dragging on because the union kept changing their words, not because Ian changed the terms, so there wasn’t anything he had to take responsibility for…

He pressed the back of his ear with his hand. His muscles had tensed as if from nervousness, causing a throbbing pain in his neck and head.

Please, let this end today.

Whatever it was, he wished for this negotiation to end quickly so Ian could return to London.

It was at the moment he sighed and looked at the union members opposite him that the sound hit.

—–!

A strange, unnatural sound was heard. At first, it seemed distant, but it continued to grow, becoming eerily louder and higher pitched.

“Ugh!”

He quickly covered his ears, but the sound grew even louder. It wasn’t just the branch manager.

The union members also covered their ears and huddled down.

The approaching sound became clearer and ripped through the space, vibrating bone and flesh.

Kuaaaaaaaar!

Everyone couldn’t believe what they were hearing. This was the primal, unmistakable cry of a beast.

Blood began to flow from the ears of those covering them and trembling. Some even had blood flowing from their eyes and noses, gasping for breath as their internal systems failed under the sonic pressure.

While everyone trembled in fear, not knowing what had happened, Ian rose from his seat, his motion shockingly deliberate.

“What…?”

It was just a single cry, yet he glared in the direction of the sound with a face hardened into granite, like someone who had heard a truth too impossible to comprehend. Then, he began to walk.

The huddled figures trembled at the sound of his footsteps. They could tell just by the flat, furious echo of his steps how absolutely enraged Ian Aylesford was.

Before leaving the room, he surveyed the space, his eyes cold and distant.

Simultaneously, those who had collapsed felt a chilling, deep-seated fear that made them forget the tearing pain in their ears.

He was choosing.

Among them, who he would slaughter first.

The deliberation was short.

“Gasp!”

“Kuaaaar!”

“Ah, ah, aah!”

Everyone except the branch manager clutched their throats and began to convulse.

They scratched their throats with their fingernails, drawing blood in frantic, useless motions, pushed their hands into their mouths, tearing their lips and bleeding, and some gouged out their eyeballs with their fingers, trying to stop the agony the sound had left behind.

Their jaws dislocated and dangled, and a hissing sound escaped their vocal cords, frothing with blood and spit. Ian stomped on someone’s eyeball that had fallen to the floor, a casual, disgusted movement.

“I want to break every single bone and kill them all slowly.”

He didn’t have time.

Kushi’s single cry had contained a truth he couldn’t believe, a fact that threatened to obliterate the world he had so meticulously built.

Jina left the mansion.

He didn’t know what had happened. What he knew for certain was that she was not in his nest.

She had left him. Carrying the offspring they had created together.

While he was bickering with these insignificant, disposable beings, his female had abandoned him. Ian reached out and grabbed the branch manager’s head.

Then, he opened his mouth.

Crunch.

With a sound like a cracker breaking, thick, dark liquid dripped onto the floor.

A moment later, Ian wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and threw away the headless corpse.

He left the room. The secretaries waiting outside stood blankly, their eyes unfocused, their minds shattered by the ambient rage.

“Clean it up.”

At his cold command, the secretaries entered the charnel house. Ian headed straight for the back of the hotel.

The helicopter he had ridden earlier to tour the Aylesford factory was still waiting there.

There was no need to call the pilot separately.

He ate the brain of the branch manager, who had boasted earlier about knowing how to fly a helicopter. The man’s knowledge was now a perfect, sharp certainty within Ian.

Just as ‘Ian Aylesford’ had done.

With a deafening noise, the helicopter slammed down in front of the mansion’s main building.

Even before his arrival, the mansion’s inhabitants had completely lost their minds and sought refuge in corners, huddled masses of weeping terror.

Even from a distance, everyone could feel it. How incandescently, fundamentally furious he was at that moment.

As he approached, the fear they felt grew, a physical, sickening force. Some, unable to bear the sheer horror of his presence, had taken their own lives.

Because of that, the only one left to endure the fear fully and await him was Kushi.

The door tore open, and he stepped out.

The bloodstains on his clothes were clearly visible even to the terrified beast.

Ian approached directly and stood before Kushi, towering over the creature.

“What happened.”

Kushi whined and lowered its head at the deep, resonant rage embedded in his short words. Ian unhesitatingly raised his foot and stomped down on Kushi.

Screeeech! Keng!

Kushi twisted its body, a black mass of pain, but couldn’t escape from beneath his foot. As he applied pressure to his foot, the sound of bones breaking was heard, the sickening crack of ribs giving way.

Despite the brutal punishment, Kushi could do nothing but bow its head and beg for the torment to stop.

Ian bent down and grabbed Kushi’s head, which was continuously begging for forgiveness through broken, high-pitched cries.

Then, everything Kushi had seen was transmitted to him, flooding his mind in a dizzying torrent.

In the memories Kushi showed, Jina, wearing light clothing, was sitting on the steps in front of the main building’s entrance, smiling and stroking Kushi.

Ian applied more pressure to his foot. He didn’t like that Kushi had seen such a smile. That smile belonged to him.

Kushi’s memories continued.

Kushi felt something was strange and roamed the mansion. But there was nothing to be seen. Kushi, who continued to roam, saw Jina again outside the mansion after the sirens had sounded, a small figure on the road.

“Ah.”

He let out a sigh at the sight of Jina, layered in thin, utterly insufficient clothes.

Ian had packed Jina’s clothes, but he hadn’t packed thick ones. He had thought it would be enough for her to move around inside the mansion since she had no reason to go out.

Even if it had warmed up, she would be cold dressed like that.

Therefore, he had to find her quickly and bring her back into the mansion—his compulsion rising, a violent, undeniable tide.

At that moment, a man appeared next to Jina. Ian knew who he was.

“Andy Haywood.”

He kicked Kushi with his foot, sending the creature skidding across the floor.

From then on, Kushi’s memories began to shake violently, a jolt of panic. Even amidst the dizzying memories, Ian pursued Jina’s image.

Andy Haywood not only injured Kushi with a gun, which was impossible for a mere human to inflict damage on, but also lunged at its body with a branch, a frantic, useless attack against the supernatural.

It was an impossible event.

But that wasn’t important to Ian.

When Kushi attacked Andy Haywood, perhaps due to the flying debris, a thin scratch appeared on Jina’s face, and blood seeped out.

The moment he saw that, Ian no longer hesitated.

Kyaaaaaaak!

Kushi’s scream echoed through the mansion, a final, guttural wail. The black monster’s belly was torn open. Instead of internal organs, it was filled with a writhing mass of tentacles, black and slick, a truly alien biology.

Perhaps realizing that Ian intended to kill it completely, the tentacles lunged at Ian, a desperate struggle of a being sensing its imminent, brutal end.

The tentacles wrapped around his neck and arms.

For a moment, as he staggered under the surprise attack, Kushi’s torn body crawled on the ground. Its legs, two attached to each separated part, flailed and kicked the ground, trying to escape the judgment.

It was a sight that defied the common sense and laws of the world. A torn dog’s body, shaking its tentacles, rushing forward, split in two yet still desperate for survival.

Watching Kushi move away, Ian tore off the tentacles wrapped around him and extended both hands forward, his face a mask of cold fury.

That was enough.

The torn bodies, running in different directions, flailed violently in the air. The two pieces rapidly approached each other.

Too rapidly.

The moment the two bodies collided.

Thump!

A large mass of flesh and bone was crushed.

What had been Kushi was now an unrecognizable pool of gore. Simultaneously, its consciousness completely vanished, snuffed out by its master.

Ian walked past the puddle of blood and flesh and headed out of the mansion.

Not far from the main gate, on the road, long tire marks were visible, the proof of departure. It was the place Kushi had seen in its memories.

He stood before it. When Kushi had seen it again, Jina’s figure was no longer visible.

He looked towards the end of the road, the path stretching to the horizon, then turned and re-entered the mansion, denial setting in like a paralyzing frost.

It can’t be.

Jina would never leave him.

She, who always cried in his arms, panting for breath. Hadn’t he continued to give her primal pleasure until her pure, beautiful face was ruined by ecstasy and pain?

Even when she begged him to stop, to spare her, he continued to give Jina pleasure, a perfect, agonizing storm of sensation.

He had spent a very long time, meticulously ensuring that only he remained in her world, until her mind went blank and only he was left, a perfect, singular obsession.

Perhaps recognizing his efforts, Jina had finally accepted him and even carried his offspring.

The joy and ecstasy he felt upon confirming that fact were the greatest sensations he had ever experienced, so much so that his hands trembled even now as he recalled it.

Therefore, he thought she would feel the same. No, she had to.

So, Ian couldn’t accept the fact that Jina had left him and this nest.

She’ll be inside.

As always, she would wake up smiling on the bed and greet him, asking if he had a good trip. Then she would sit beside him, kiss his cheek, and nuzzle against his face.

She surely would. The sight of her leaving was just a hallucination seen by a pathetic black dog. It had to be.

His steps towards the mansion quickened, morphing into a near-run.

Entering the main building, he went straight upstairs without sparing a glance at those trembling in the corners, their minds already broken.

As he approached the room where he and Jina lived, he smelled the sweet, intoxicating scent he had longed for over the past three days.

A scent that drove him mad with just a small handful, anytime, anywhere.

As he got closer, the scent grew stronger, a delicious, undeniable truth, and a smile spread across his face, easing the tension in his murderous muscles. The foolish beast must have seen a hallucination.

She was surely inside…

“Jina!”

Though he thought nothing was wrong, he quickly opened the door and called out his mate’s name, the sound of it possessive and demanding. Entering the adjacent bedroom, he immediately scanned the bed.

There should be Jina, who would usually glare at him as if he were noisy, then smile at him…

“…Jina?”

There was no one on the bed.

He returned to the central hall, his gaze scanning for her. Had she simply gone to the bathroom? Or was she somewhere else, wandering the endless expanse of the manor?

Then he saw it: the study door stood ajar. It was the one place Jina had never shown the slightest interest in—the perfect, comfortable sanctuary for the things he needed to keep hidden from her.

Ian stepped inside. His eyes immediately fell on the things scattered across the polished wood.

They were all terribly familiar. Fragments, relics of the Humans he had consumed.

Overturned drawers. Scattered belongings.

Jina had seen this. He was sure of it.

But… even if she had…

“It doesn’t matter.”

She had accepted him. That acceptance was a blanket assurance, a promise that she would understand everything he had done, and everything he would do in the time to come.

Then why? Why the performance? Why the mimicry of shock?

Why did she react… like a Human?

Ian stumbled back out of the study, the revelation crushing the air from his lungs.

He had to find her. Now. She was somewhere in this mansion, and he would hunt through every last room.

As he rushed toward the exterior doors, his foot came down on something that gave way with a sickening crunch.

Slowly, he lifted his heavy boot and looked down. The tiny, expensive jewel attached to the object’s tip caught the sunlight pouring through the window, shining with brilliant, indifferent clarity.

He still didn’t perfectly grasp the fickle concept of Human beauty, yet he had chosen and chosen, day and night, only the absolute best to give her.

It lay on the floor, shattered.

Only then, seeing the broken thing, did the certainty settle in his gut: Jina had left him.

The monster quietly closed his eyes, his massive frame trembling.

Transparent drops of water—grief’s betrayal—tracked a path down his sharp cheeks.

“Ah…”

The sound was a breathy, fragile escape from his lips.

“Ah, ugh…”

The sigh thickened, growing into a ragged, guttural groan. And then…

“Aaaaaaaargh!”

The monster, stripped of his prize, his everything, roared.

The sound was a seismic wave of loss and fury that stole the breath from the air itself.

They knew.

He would find her.

His Female.

The one whose existence was now irrevocably stained by him.