“Is this… allowed? Is it really possible to earn money like this?” Jina murmured, sinking into her bed.

She’d been busy prepping dinner when a message arrived: Ian’s schedule had changed; he would eat dinner out before returning.

The Chairman’s meal preparations were halted too, as he was with his grandson.

As a result, all the food she’d been preparing became the chefs’ responsibility.

The other chefs had immediately pressed her to finish the dishes anyway, eager to show her the finer points she was missing. They had become passionate instructors, demonstrating advanced culinary skills.

Jina, ever diligent, followed their instructions and soon achieved a similar, complex flavor. They all happily shared and enjoyed the resulting meal.

Finishing her work and returning to her room, she felt a dizzying uncertainty—was she employed, or was she on an incredible vacation?

While she was lounging, a knock sounded at the door. When she opened it, an employee stood holding a small vacuum cleaner.

“This is what you requested, yes?”

“Yes. Thank you. Where should I put it once I’m finished?”

“Ah, just leave it right here. Use it as you need.”

After explaining that it was provided upon request, they instructed her to keep it in the built-in closet in the room and use it freely.

Jina immediately started vacuuming and cleaning. Though the room was well-maintained, it had been vacant for a while, and a surprising amount of dust was pulled from the carpet. Then, Jina noticed a scrap of trash on the floor and bent to pick it up.

“They still haven’t thrown this away.”

It was the paper napkin with the crude shapes and letters—the one she’d seen in the hospital café. Surprised it had survived her move, Jina prepared to toss it in the bin.

The moment she lifted her hand to toss it, Jina’s eyes glazed over, becoming opaque and distant. Then, she began tearing the napkin in her hand into frantic pieces.

The pieces were smaller than her fingernails, scattering messily across the carpet. The action continued until nothing remained in her hands.

“Huh?” Suddenly, she flinched, a violent jolt snapping her back to reality.

“What was I doing? What was I doing?”

Jina looked around. The vacuum cleaner stood beside her, reminding her she’d been cleaning moments ago.

She remembered picking up the napkin. But her memory simply ended there. Looking at the floor, she knew she had torn it, yet the moment itself was a void.

“Did I… fall asleep standing up?”

It hadn’t been a particularly tiring day. Moreover, she had never once done anything like that in her life.

She tilted her head, then pushed the vacuum cleaner across the floor.

Every single, minute piece of the napkin was sucked cleanly into the vacuum, leaving no trace behind.

After finishing her cleaning, she went to wash up, and the injuries from the day’s activities were glaringly apparent. Her scraped palm was uncomfortable, but her knee was raw, bruised, and weeping slightly.

“I can’t really blame the dog for it, though.”

She just wished she knew why the beast had barked at her with such frenzied madness.

“If it didn’t dislike me so much, it would have let me take it for walks…”

Her father was allergic to dander, so she’d never owned a dog, not even as a child.

The flats she’d lived in after moving to London all had strict no-pet policies. Seeing the deer and rabbits running free on the mansion grounds, she’d assumed dogs would be part of the landscape, but she never imagined one would single her out for such profound hatred.

“I was going to make you treats if you behaved, but I guess that’s your loss.”

Ending her useless grumbling, which the dog couldn’t hear or understand anyway, Jina lay down on the bed.

As her tension finally began to ease, sleep, heavy and instant, claimed her. She’d meant to message her friends about the new job and browse the web, but she was powerless against the wave of pure, overwhelming drowsiness.

“Ah!” Then, as if struck by a lightning bolt of recollection, Jina sat bolt upright.

“The heater!” Her throat had been raw that morning. Her voice hadn’t come out properly. Jina twisted the temperature control down and turned on the humidifier the staff had given her earlier.

With a soft whirring sound, a gentle plume of steam rose from the machine.

Seeing it worked, Jina was satisfied. She snuggled back under the covers. As a comfortable weight pressed down on her body, the immediate return of drowsiness felt like a physical caress.

Thinking dimly of what tomorrow would require, Jina finally drifted back to sleep.

The car ride back to the mansion was blanketed in a cold silence. The Chairman watched his only grandson, sitting rigid beside him. Ian was drumming his fingers on the armrest, a nervous tic that was sharp and incessant.

The Chairman found it unsettling. Ian usually tapped his leg when anxious, never his hands. But he dismissed the surprise quickly. There were limits to what he knew of his grandson.

He’s been surprisingly compliant lately, but today he let his displeasure show like a bared tooth.

Since returning from Scotland, Ian had attended banquets and functions without complaint. The Chairman had been pleased, but today, when he suggested they amend Ian’s early departure plans to travel together, Ian had refused him flatly.

Normally, he wouldn’t press his grandson. But today was different.

There was a critical gathering today. Ian had insisted he wouldn’t go, but the Chairman had been adamant: attendance was mandatory.

Tensions were high with the Carrington family; everyone in the social circle was walking on eggshells around the Aylesford and Carrington conflict.

“You cannot miss this. Jeremy Carrington finished his surgery, and I hear he’s itching to cause trouble. He’s announced he’ll be there, and if you aren’t, it will look like you’re avoiding him.”

At the Chairman’s words, Ian let out a noise—a low, incredulous mutter.

“Me, avoid him?”

Even knowing it was a soliloquy, a private thought, the Chairman felt a chilling prickle down his spine. His grandson’s voice had a strange, low quality—less like speech, more like a growl.

Fortunately, Ian had finally agreed to accompany him.

The moment they entered, Ian at his side, the room went abruptly silent, followed by a torrent of gazes. Soon, close acquaintances approached. After a few exchange of greetings, the whispering about Ian began.

They say he had a massive accident. Is this the accident? Or is it because the Chairman threatened to strip him of his title and appoint a CEO from Aylesford executives if he didn’t clean up his act? He’s only pretending to come to his senses.

Everyone chattered amongst themselves, convinced their own speculation perfectly explained Ian’s drastically changed demeanor.

Ian moved through the room with a disconcerting leisure. He exchanged the appropriate greetings and hollow conversations. But every person who spoke with Ian felt it.

The constant, unspoken compulsion to avoid his gaze, to lower their heads in his presence. A strange, inexplicable sense of fear now radiated from Ian, a palpable force.

Then, Jeremy Carrington arrived. Jeremy, known for his perfect, handsome face, now appeared with fresh gauze on his nose and bruises that had not yet faded. A ripple of surprise swept through the whispers.

The moment he entered, Jeremy’s eyes immediately cut through the crowd, seeking Ian.

The crowd watched, anticipating the inevitable clash between the two notorious figures of the social scene.

Ian said something low and deliberate to Jeremy, who approached him, and the two men walked out into the garden.

A long while passed. Security guards suddenly began to move outside, a flurry of panicked activity. Then Ian returned, alone. He spoke, his voice carrying clearly enough for the crowd to hear.

“He seemed unwell. He collapsed as soon as we stepped outside.”

At Ian’s words, Jeremy’s acquaintances rushed outside. Lord Carrington, Jeremy’s grandfather, roared at Ian.

“Ian Aylesford! What in God’s name did you do to my grandson!”

“Nothing. I asked how he was feeling, and he collapsed on his own.”

Lord Carrington shouted again, calling the claim absurd, but a secretary who had checked the security room footage confirmed Ian’s account.

He stated he had confirmed Jeremy collapsing after Ian had said something to him from a short distance. Face flushed red with impotent rage, Lord Carrington immediately stormed out of the banquet hall.

After that, a strange tranquility settled over the room. Reading the atmosphere, the Chairman decided their objective was met and told Ian it was time to leave.

Ian walked out with him, his face a mask of barely contained irritation.

Even once in the car, his irritation only sharpened. Worse, as they neared the mansion gates, Ian became increasingly anxious.

As if he had left something infinitely precious behind.

Finally, the car arrived. The moment the door opened, the incessant, furious barking of a dog, audible even from a distance, slammed into them.

“You don’t mean it’s been like this all day?”

“Yes. It hasn’t been able to settle. It hasn’t drunk or eaten, just barked all day. There was also a small incident earlier.”

“An incident?”

“It broke its leash and attacked one of the chefs from the main house, who was taking a walk nearby. Fortunately, we were able to pull it off before it caused serious harm, but because it attacked a person, we’ve moved it to the basement of the staff building.”

“That’s strange. That beast never bares its teeth unless it’s for the prey I hunt. It’s an intelligent creature.”

It had never made a mistake before. Why was it causing trouble the moment it arrived here?

“In any case, be cautious with it and keep a close eye on it.”

Even if it caused trouble, it was a creature he cherished. It was also an extremely expensive one. He had no intention of sending it elsewhere.

The secretary, understanding the Chairman’s meaning, bowed his head. The Chairman and Ian walked inside.

“Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Ian replied, then vanished quickly in the direction of his room.

“That boy, why the mad dash?”

As he said this, the Chairman’s expression wasn’t displeased. In the past, Ian had hated coming here at all, but now he seemed to have forgotten the Chelsea mansion entirely and stayed here every day.

It’s a good thing.

Someday, everything here would be Ian’s, so it was better he become acclimated to it now.

Bang!

Ian burst into his room, throwing his coat to the side. He stormed immediately into the bathroom and twisted the shower on, fully clothed. The expensive suit was instantly saturated.

He paid it no mind, instead rinsing his mouth with a frantic surge of water.

“It tastes bad.” He frowned, the memory of the taste from earlier a repulsive film on his tongue.

He rinsed his mouth several times, spitting the water out in sharp bursts.

He thought of the Female who had visited his office. It was a space specifically designed—gazes couldn’t penetrate, and sounds could not escape.

The humans outside were loyal to the body he inhabited. They knew the things he did were harmful to their own kind, yet they wouldn’t breathe a word of what transpired within. There had always been such humans: traitors who obeyed power.

But he hadn’t swallowed the Female. Firstly, he did not desire to eat it.

His true nature, his primal appetite, had not disappeared. If anything, he craved something else entirely.

He had already tasted something impossibly sweet last night. After experiencing that ultimate, overwhelming pleasure, he felt zero compulsion to consume anything else.

And he hadn’t even consumed it all—only licked it, then left it intact.

A delicacy he could taste again awaited him immediately upon his return. Why would he eat something that didn’t even smell good?

That’s what bewildered him. In the past, he would have swallowed without hesitation and proceeded to his true meal, but now, he had begun to make choices.

Unable to fully comprehend his own shift, he wiped his lips with the back of a sodden hand.

The Female he’d met had been persistent. She had stroked his thigh, then climbed onto him, pressing her lips hard against his. The instant their mouths met, a profound disgust flared at the taste of her saliva—so vastly different from what he’d tasted the previous night.

Despite the revulsion, he did not throw the Female off him for one reason only.

“Ian, kiss me. Please?” The Female fumbled with his lips. Her actions were undoubtedly skilled. He endured the touch of the unappetizing Female solely for that: He wanted to learn more about the act.

The Female was a decent teacher. “That’s strange, why are you so clumsy?” she’d grumbled. Even so, she clung to him for a long while, deliberately intertwining her tongue with his.

She didn’t even know who she was offering herself to now.

In any case, he learned how to intertwine tongues until her sounds became thick with heat. And when he decided he had extracted enough instruction, he sent the Female away.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

The Female stared at him, bewildered. Since she looked like she would be unnecessarily bothersome, he used the excuse that always worked best with humans: He had an appointment with the Chairman.

At that, the Female relented, saying it couldn’t be helped. Her final words were a mix of frustrated accusation—“Then why did you call me?”—and desperate submission—“But thank you for not forgetting me.”

After the Female left, he had intended to return to the mansion immediately. Now that he knew how to comfortably intertwine tongues and how to pleasure the Female, he planned to replicate the lesson on Jina Troll the moment he returned.

How much more sweetness would she shed then?

The mere thought of it made his jaw ache with a fierce, physical anticipation.

But then the schedule changed because of Jeremy Carrington. He’d intended to ignore the summons and leave, but the idea that he was being looked down upon ignited a cold, lethal fury.

No matter how perfectly he mirrored a Human, it was preposterous that those who should be kneeling before him were overstepping their bounds.

In the past, he would have simply torn them all apart, leaving only the ‘heads,’ too bothersome to consume, as an example. They would have automatically bowed. (Though he had eaten the heads eventually).

He wanted to act as he used to, but just as the humans had changed, he too, needed to adapt. If he acted like that now, he risked jeopardizing the delicacy he’d left at the mansion.

So, he endured, and he met Jeremy Carrington.

The male still exuded a foul odor.

He found it ridiculous—absurd—that this piece of meat, which he wouldn’t even keep near him, much less swallow, dared to glare. So, he followed it outside when it called him.

There was no need to suppress the minds of others here. In a place where eyes could reach but voices could not, he uttered words imbued with an ancient, terrifying power.

Something a human mind could not properly perceive. Even though the power was diluted by being channeled through a human body, the words filled with his absolute anger still possessed immense strength. Moreover, he was genuinely annoyed today.

The smelly male had to face his anger directly.

It did not die. However, it would never stand on two legs or open its eyes to speak again.

It won’t be able to bother me anymore.

Thinking this, his mood eased, a slight, internal relaxation. He walked out, still saturated. One of the main house secretaries looked at him, startled.

“Is there a problem…?” As the secretary approached him, his eyes glazed over, and he froze, a statue in the hallway.

Is my appearance strange?

He wondered. Humans, in the past and present, constantly walked around in rain or snow. What was the issue?

Indeed, there were still many things he didn’t fully understand.

He considered going back to change, but the urge was too strong. He couldn’t bear the delay any longer. Without hesitation, he headed toward a secluded corner of the main house.

Everyone passing by froze in their tracks. He had clamped their minds shut, silencing the world outside this wing of the mansion. They would remain there, vacant and unremembering, until his appetite was satisfied and his ‘feast’ complete.

He arrived at Jina’s room. With immense satisfaction, he noted the small plaque displaying the name Jina Troll beside the door. The fact that this mansion, this entire domain, had become his lair pleased him immensely.

Click.

The locked door yielded. It slid open on its own.

When would these humans ever realize such pitiful defenses were useless against true power?

The moment he crossed the threshold, he drew a deep, shuddering breath. The irritations of the day—the repulsive taste, the loathsome banquet—vanished, purged from his memory.

There was only this. He focused every fiber of his being on what lay prepared for him here.

He sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at Jina, who lay quiet and oblivious.

“You’ve cleaned it well,” he murmured.

Yesterday, when he first entered this room, something had blocked him: crude drawings and letters, thin pieces of paper imbued with a residual power.

The letters had exhausted their strength shielding her in the hospital. Now they were mere trash, yet their presence, their very existence, was a grating offense.

Moreover, she was a Troll.

Troll.

A cursed clan of humans with the uncanny ability to obstruct him. They had somehow discovered ‘letters with power’ unknown to other mortals and learned to wield them with unnatural ease. Some newborns even understood that power from birth.

Even a single drop of their distant blood inherited the taint. Once awakened, that cursed blood might easily block him again.

I am fortunate I secured her before the awakening.

He allowed himself a grin, then seized Jina’s shoulder and hauled her closer. Without preamble, he pressed his lips to hers.

“Haa…”

The moment he thrust his tongue past her red lips, his body convulsed with a profound tremor.

Yes. This was the taste. This was what he had craved, what he had denied himself all day.

As he finally touched what his hunger demanded, his mind swam in a pleasure so intense it was dizzying. He forced her mouth open, plundering the narrow space. Then, he began to slowly rub and thrust, a rhythmic, deep invasion.

“Ngh, mmmph.”

Jina made a muffled sound of distress, perhaps from a lack of air, but he paid no attention. Resolving his long-suppressed thirst was his only priority.

As his tongue rubbed against hers, a rush of saliva flowed. He consumed every drop, licking and swallowing. Even that wasn’t enough; he placed a hand on the nape of Jina’s neck, forcing her mouth to tilt, pressing her deeper into the kiss.

Saliva he couldn’t quite swallow spilled over his chin. He tore his lips away just long enough to wick up the stream that flowed down his jaw.

“Haa… Haa…”

He heard her ragged, difficult panting. She was already tiring.

That will not do.

Today, he intended to savor this, to draw it out until morning. He could not allow her to weaken or suffocate. He meant to take this same pleasure tomorrow, and the day after that.

He laid Jina flat again and held her chin, forcing her mouth open. Then, unlike the violent devouring before, he pressed his lips to hers with agonizing slowness.

He did not rush. He was not violent. He applied pressure carefully, as if handling the most fragile thing in the world, leaving her a small, conTrolld margin of escape.

As his tongue entered again, Jina’s own tongue flinched, attempting to retreat. Her instincts remembered the violence that had just enveloped her.

But he was gentle now, and Jina’s body quickly went slack beneath him.

He led the movements.

Entwining. Rubbing. Licking.

“Mmm…”

A thin, reedy moan escaped, swallowed by the wet sound of their kiss. Satisfied, he put more deliberate effort into his movements. No matter how delicious the reward, he did not act greedily. Instead, he tasted it slowly, carefully, like a human savoring wine.

His hand, which had been holding her head steady, stroked her hair like one would soothe a young, confused creature, then moved lower. As his fingers traced the hollow of her back, her moans deepened, becoming richer, more saturated.

Ah.

He felt an immense, staggering fulfillment. Not through tearing flesh or drinking hot blood, but simply by rubbing skin and tasting her saliva. This moment brought such a complete, stunning fullness.

He had intended to finally sample the liquid between her legs once his mouth was sated, but he liked the current act so much that he completely forgot his original goal.

Specifically, he liked Jina’s state, her tongue intertwining with his without struggle.

He withdrew his hand from her back and cupped Jina’s face with both hands. He shoved his tongue deep inside one last time before slowly drawing it out. The wet saliva stretched, a long, shimmering thread, before snapping.

“Hnng…”

Jina shuddered and her eyes fluttered open. Her pupils were blurred, moving sluggishly, and then her mouth opened.

“Ian?”

“……!”

He stared at Jina, his expression one of profound surprise.

This should not have happened.

Compared to other humans, he had crushed this one’s consciousness with several times the requisite force.

Other humans might wake at the sound of a dog barking or the Chairman’s arrival, but this one, even when he drew from her body, would only let out suppressed moans, never waking, never remembering.

But she had not only opened her eyes, she had recognized him precisely.

Unconsciously, his hand closed around Jina’s neck. For a brief, cold moment, he considered snapping her neck, ending the threat now.

Peck.

Jina lifted her face and kissed his cheek.

“……?”

He didn’t understand. He had expected her to scream upon seeing him, yet she had approached him.

Furthermore, she had voluntarily placed her lips on his cheek.

Jina flopped back onto the bed. She looked up at him, her words a slurred mumble, like someone speaking in their deepest sleep.

“It’s because I’m grateful…”

Looking closely, her eyes were still heavy with sleepiness. She blinked slowly, as if trying to fall back under. If he left her alone now, she would surely drift off. He should let her…

“Grateful? For what?”

He needed to know why she was acting this way toward him.

Had she not heard him? Without answering, her eyes slowly closed again. A pang of regret flashed through him. He pulled Jina into his embrace, holding her close. Her sleep-heavy face was mere inches from his.

“Answer me.”

He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he desperately needed the answer. Then…

“For letting me… stay here…” Jina answered, her eyes still half-lidded.

He searched her mind for a trace of a suggestion he might have placed there.

But no. He had only suppressed her to prevent resistance; he had not touched her consciousness. Yet she was grateful to him for keeping her here to consume.

It was utterly absurd.

He let out a short, hollow laugh. Jina raised her arm and hugged him back. Then, she kissed his cheek again and giggled.

“……”

He remained completely still.

Perhaps because he didn’t stop her, Jina kissed his other cheek. It appeared to be an action Jina performed when she felt gratitude towards other humans.

After kissing him here and there for a while, Jina finally seemed satisfied and closed her eyes for good. She burrowed her face into his shoulder.

“……”

What should he do with this?

He began to ponder, an unusual state for him. Now that she was asleep again, he could suppress her and explore her as before… but for some reason, he found himself unwilling.

He simply held Jina in his arms, still. It was both amusing and pathetic how soundly she slept, unaware of the entity holding her. She had even initiated the kiss.

“Ha.”

How foolish. The lineage of Troll was wasted on such a simple-minded human.

He recalled that, long ago, the Troll had often used themselves as bait. They would linger, appearing like easy prey, luring him in. Was this one deceiving him, too?

The moment the thought struck, he tightened the arm around her waist, a crushing pressure. As their bodies pressed closer, Jina writhed, a small, protesting sound escaping her. She buried her face deeper into his shoulder.

Through the damp fabric, he felt the rhythmic breathing of a truly deep sleep. This was the breathing of a human at their most unguarded.

The breathing of someone who felt utterly safe, completely defenseless.

He used to enjoy deliberately waking such creatures and eating their arms or legs first, rather than their heads…

He held Jina in his arms and imposed a slight suppression on her consciousness. Unlike before, it was just enough for her to react to the stimuli he gave her.

He pressed his lips to Jina’s exposed neck. The pulsing beneath her thin skin was exquisite. Without baring his teeth, he rubbed his mouth over various spots, inhaling her sweet, unique scent.

Why?

He knew he hated things that smelled foul, unlike other humans. But this sweet scent didn’t originate from that. It was something else.

After licking her neck for a long time, he remembered his true intent for the evening.

The fluid that flowed between her legs when she trembled.

He had come to consume that. But it only flowed if he gave her a stimulus strong enough to cause spasms. If he sucked her breasts and rubbed his penis against her as he did yesterday, she would surely wake up before that point.

He pondered for a long time. His own appetite, which had endured a whole day of agonizing denial, or her peace.

Which would he prioritize?

Surprisingly, he chose the latter. The more patience he showed, the more delicious she became. If he endured today, she would undoubtedly be even more exquisite tomorrow.

It throbbed again. The outline of his engorged penis was painfully clear beneath his damp pants.

The female he met during the day had craved this so much. She had caressed and stroked it with her hands, even rubbing it against her buttocks. Yet, at the time, he hadn’t reacted significantly.

How flustered she must have been.

Compared to then, he was now painfully erect, surging even without deliberate stimulation.

When a human male’s penis grew large, he would drive it into the female’s lower body. At that moment, both male and female would make the most excited sounds and claw at each other.

He suddenly wondered. What sound would she make if he pushed his into Jina? As she dripped sweet liquid every time he touched her, the fluid she would drip then would be even more delicious. And…

He recalled the memory of Jina reaching out to him on her own today. Just thinking about it again made his lower body stir with renewed urgency. Although he could insert himself after crushing her consciousness, he wanted her to spread her legs willingly if possible.

How do I achieve that?

He scoured his memories. The women who flanked Ian would undress and spread their legs without him saying a word.

But this one didn’t.

She hadn’t even embraced him; her face clearly displayed a desperate desire to get away. Then today, she thanked him and came closer. Even so, it was a very light, almost accidental touch compared to other females.

He thought seriously.

He gave her food, a place to sleep, and money, and her attitude shifted. If he gave her a little more, wouldn’t she embrace him even during the day, when he didn’t impose the suppression? Just like the eager female from earlier today.

Let’s try it.

He had endless time. Jina was immensely pleased with the scrap of paper she called a contract.

So, she wouldn’t contemplate leaving the mansion for a while. If she did, he could simply bind her in the basement.

After all, the humans inside the mansion would pretend not to hear, not to see.

As he contemplated his next move with pleasure, he took Jina’s hand. Since he couldn’t suck her breasts or between her legs today, he felt he could only satisfy himself by at least sucking her fingers before morning.

It was as he placed one of her slender, long fingers in his mouth and was about to rake his teeth over it.

“Ah!”

Jina, in his arms, let out a sharp cry. It was a sound of pain endured.

He pulled back instantly, wondering if he had accidentally exposed his teeth. At that moment, he smelled blood, a metallic tang he hadn’t noticed until now.

What is it?

Distracted, he finally registered the scent of the wound. He hastily laid Jina down and scrutinized her body.

He himself had brought her here without a scratch. Where could she possibly be injured?

He found the wounds quickly. Both her palms and her knees were scraped, and her knees were mottled with a dark blue bruising.

When he touched the area with his hand, she let out a groan again, as if in agony.

His eyes flared with a cold, possessive fury.

He immediately grabbed Jina’s neck, crushing her consciousness with a forceful, abrupt strike.

“Ah, ugh…!”

Jina’s body went limp from the sudden, overwhelming force.

“Who did this to you?”

“A, a dog… I was walking earlier… it suddenly attacked me…”

Although her eyes were closed, her mouth answered steadily, as if she were awake.

“And only me… targeting only me, leaving others alone…”

Upon hearing the answer, he released his grip on her neck.

“A pathetic beast.”

The reason Jina was targeted was brutally obvious. The creature had reacted to the scent he had saturated her with.

He rose from the bed. Since he had come in soaking wet clothes, Jina’s garments, the mattress, and the floor were all covered in damp marks.

He debated whether to erase them, then bit and sucked Jina’s lips one final time before standing.

“I don’t particularly favor dogs, but…”

He felt a sudden, consuming need to hunt that creature today.

Bzzzzzz!

The mobile phone placed next to the pillow vibrated as its alarm went off.

Jina stirred at the sound, slowly waking.

She didn’t recall the details clearly, but she felt like she’d had a vivid dream. A damp, heavy feeling lingered, and a voice—a whispered presence—was speaking to her.

That voice was definitely…

“Huk!”

The moment the dream rushed back, Jina shot bolt upright in bed.

“What kind of twisted nightmare was that?”

Ian came looking for me, and I thanked him and hugged his neck. Of course, she felt a vague gratitude towards him, but to suddenly hug and kiss someone she wasn’t remotely close to…

Even more absurd was that Ian didn’t push her away, but accepted it.

In the dream, he not only stayed still but touched her body, and licked her neck. And she accepted it all without issue, with a terrifying, numb calm…

“Aaaargh!”

Jina screamed, throwing the pillow in her arms across the room as the memory surged.

Am I going insane?

Since coming here, she felt a strange, heightened sense of physical alertness upon waking. She’d heard that some people felt such excitement near their period, but that wasn’t her reality. Stress usually caused her to miss her cycle for months, so it couldn’t be that.

“Get a grip, get a grip.”

Jina pressed the back of her hand to her flushed cheeks. Then, feeling an odd, cold sensation, she lifted the blanket.

“Huh?”

The inside of the blanket was damp.

For a moment, the horrifying thought of what if made her dizzy. Fumbling, Jina touched the damp spot on the mattress and soon let out a sigh of relief.

If she had made a mistake, the center should be wet, but the dampness was concentrated along the edge of the bed.

It wasn’t just the bed that was strange. Her clothes were also noticeably damp across the front.

“What is this?”

Did she spill water on herself while sleeping? But the plastic water bottle was placed far away on the desk.

As she pondered the strangeness, the alarm, set to repeat every ten minutes, vibrated loudly again. Jina hastily turned off the remaining alarms and rushed to the bathroom.

She didn’t have time to fret over a mere bad dream and confusing wet patches. She needed to get to the kitchen quickly.

Thanks to her haste, she arrived at the kitchen faster than expected. Another cook, already there, praised Jina, starting with the familiar, “Unlike young people these days…!”

Jina, who had only rushed due to the lingering dread of a bad dream, smiled sheepishly at the unexpected praise and began preparing her ingredients.

The refrigerator was still perfectly stocked. She checked the provided tablet to ensure yesterday’s ordered ingredients had arrived and checked their quality.

With a week’s worth of menus already decided, she only needed to check the recipes. She prepared a small portion of the morning menu dish to test the ingredients, then the cooks’ breakfast began.

There wasn’t much to cook for their breakfast, so while receiving advice on how to properly prepare the fruit, a familiar secretary entered. His expression was grim.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes, well… the Chairman is in a foul mood today. So, you know what that means, right?”

“Ah, that. I need to make it quickly.”

The main cook responsible for the Chairman’s meals put a hand to his forehead and quickly snatched milk from the refrigerator. The other cooks also moved with hurried, efficient speed.

“What is ‘that’?” Jina asked, perplexed.

“It’s a specific dessert the Chairman eats when he’s raging,” the cook explained. “It’s ice cream with alcohol, so I need to hurry.

He eats ice cream when he’s angry? For all his power, the old man has a strangely cute side.

But unlike Jina’s mild amusement, the faces of the other kitchen staff were etched with grim seriousness.

“But what could have happened this morning? Nothing significant broke in the news, did it?” asked the chef, who had been checking headlines on his phone. He tilted his head, perplexed.

The Chairman’s sudden, dark moods were usually predictable. They typically struck when a crisis concerning Aylesford broke overnight—unauthorized medicine in agricultural products, a factory fire, or a worker injury that raised safety questions.

When incidents jeopardizing Aylesford’s stock price or reputation occurred, the Chairman made no effort to mask his displeasure. Since it was his domain, he didn’t have to.

Instead, those beneath him descended into panic. Once, one of the chefs had improvised, making ice cream with the Chairman’s favorite liquor and serving it as dessert.

The Chairman’s anger had subsided faster than usual. From that day on, it had become a mandated house rule: serve that dessert whenever the Chairman woke up in a foul temper, regardless of the hour.

“Jina, I’m sorry, but could you help us with our breakfast prep, too?”

“Of course. Just tell me what you need.”

While assisting with the simpler tasks, Jina turned to the secretary, who was rubbing his palms together nervously.

“But seriously, what happened?”

“Well… the dog is missing.”

“The dog? The one that attacked me yesterday?”

“Ah, yes. That dog.”

“Didn’t you say it was locked in the basement of the staff building?”

“We did… Ah, please don’t repeat this. Not everyone in the mansion knows, but something bizarre happened on our end last night.”

“Bizarre?”

As if on cue for a ghost story, everyone’s eyes widened and sparkled at the mention of something strange.

“The security team works in staggered shifts, no breaks. But they all fell asleep at a specific time. At first, we dismissed it as exhaustion, but the guards who realized the dog was missing early this morning checked the CCTV. The lights were off during the time they all slept, so nothing was captured.”

“Did someone come in and take the dog, then?”

“But the blackout lasted only about five minutes. Moreover, the cage holding the dog was still securely locked. And most importantly…”

The secretary, after glancing around to ensure they were truly alone, lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “There was blood splattered inside the cage. Seeing it sprayed everywhere, it looked like a violent struggle.”

“…”

Anyone else might have scoffed, calling it nonsensical, but the secretary’s face was too grave. No one spoke.

“So what—in five minutes, someone simultaneously put every guard to sleep, turned off the lights, went inside, killed the dog, dragged the body out, relocked the door, and vanished? Is that even possible?”

“It’s impossible. That’s exactly why the Chairman is so furious. First, the guards falling asleep, but then he shouted, ‘Does this make any sense? If you’re going to lie, make it plausible!’ But the dog is gone, there’s no evidence, and everyone is panicking. And that dog was apparently immensely expensive. It was a particularly intelligent hunting dog, acquired at a high cost… The security team is going to be annihilated.” The secretary let out a profound sigh.

Jina understood the Chairman’s anger. His cherished dog had been killed in his own house, and the people responsible for watching it offered an utterly unbelievable tale.

Jina refocused on her cooking. She felt a flicker of regret, thinking she had hoped to eventually make peace with the dog, despite her injuries.

The secretaries placed the meal down with a quiet deference, more polite and subdued than usual. The Chairman, however, did not even glance at the food, still visibly suppressing his fury.

Ian, leaving his grandfather to his rage, picked up his fork and laid down his napkin. He ate the fruit first, a calm, deliberate movement. Then, he spoke to the still-frowning Chairman.

“It seems it was a dog you valued.”

“It was an expensive one! The most intelligent one! I went to great lengths to bring it here—do you think this makes any sense?” The Chairman slammed his hand hard on the table, his voice still thick with anger.

“Before winter ends, I was supposed to go fox hunting with Carrington. The Prime Minister, acting as mediator, was going to give us an entire hunting ground. I was planning to take that dog, but now, where will I find a replacement?” he seethed. “This must be Carrington’s doing. How could this happen inside my own mansion…”

Fox hunting had been outlawed for years, but a few nobles and the wealthy still indulged in it secretly. Opportunities were rare due to public scrutiny, but it seemed the Prime Minister himself had arranged this event as the Aylesford-Carrington conflict showed signs of escalating.

“I will procure a suitable dog soon.”

“You think it’s easy to find a good hunting dog?”

“I will prepare a useful one. It will be completely black, though.”

Harriers, the crossbreeds used for fox hunting, were typically mottled. Ian was suggesting an entirely black one.

“You know it loses its distinction if it’s not a Harrier.”

“You won’t care about such things.”

Seeing Ian speak with such cold confidence, the Chairman finally picked up his fork. He was pleased that his grandson was actively engaging in the dispute with Carrington. He also liked the way Ian was attempting to comfort him, subtly addressing his mood.

Breakfast finally ended only after the ice cream dessert was served. By the time the meal was done, the Chairman had settled back into his usual demeanor.

Ian, passing through the visibly relieved secretaries, returned to his room and touched his throat, a gesture of stifled restriction.

A moment later, he made a strange, guttural sound and shuddered.

“Ptooey!”

He spat something out of his mouth. It was the collar ornament that had been on the missing dog’s neck—a metal tag inscribed with Aylesford’s ownership.

Ian wiped it clean and placed it in his desk drawer. A star-shaped piercing he had put there previously rolled next to the tag.

He closed the drawer, walked to the window, opened it, and screamed.

“––––––-!”

A massive, silent wave, extending beyond the range of human hearing, spread far into the distance. After a long moment, he closed the window, a look of chilling satisfaction on his face.

He heard the barking of creatures left far behind.

They would arrive soon.

Ian, fully dressed, called a passing secretary and issued a clear command.

“Tell Jina Troll to prepare to go out.”

“Get in.”

Jina was momentarily speechless at Ian’s casual gesture, pointing her toward the seat beside him.

After an uneventful breakfast and no lunch appointments, she was heading back to her room when a secretary rushed up, suddenly telling her to prepare to go out, citing Ian’s orders.

She debated whether, as a chef, she should follow such a command, but since she needed to buy a few things anyway, she decided to treat it as a fortuitous opportunity.

As Jina got in, the secretary closed the door, and the car smoothly pulled onto the road.

This really is nice.

She barely remembered the ride last time, given her terrified state, but now she wondered if what she’d been riding in before was a carriage and not a car.

The difference was staggering. Outside noise was almost imperceptible, and there was no rattling or distracting engine sound.

After marveling at the luxury, Jina turned her head to Ian, sitting beside her.

“I came because you called, but what’s this about?”

“I heard you were injured yesterday.”

“Yes. I told you… Huh?”

Jina’s mouth snapped shut in surprise. This was the first time she had seen Ian since being injured yesterday.

Yet, I remember telling him I was injured.

She tried to force the memory back, but nothing came to mind this time.

Did my dreams… get mixed up with reality?

As she recalled the fading memory of her dream, Jina’s face began to flush. It was too awkward to take off her coat, so she fanned herself with her hand, offering a weak excuse that the car was a bit warm.

Ian responded by rolling down the window slightly. The rush of cold, dry winter wind helped her regain some composure.

Calmness returning, Jina looked down at her hands. Thankfully, the burning sensation in her palms had gone, leaving only a few scabs.

“I was injured, but it wasn’t serious. I have a bruise on my knee, though.”

“I am sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t bring the dog to bite me.” It wasn’t something Ian needed to apologize for in any genuine way.

“Still, since you were injured inside the mansion, I can’t be entirely without responsibility.”

“If there’s responsibility, it lies with the person who carelessly tied up such a dangerous dog. Don’t worry about it anymore. More importantly, why did you have me prepare to go out? I came along because you asked, but I’d like to know the actual reason.”

Jina realized she was adopting a surprisingly softened tone toward Ian.

A week ago, she would have spat out, ‘Who are you to order people around?’ But now he was her employer. An employer who offered a very generous salary, a relaxed schedule, and kind, friendly colleagues.

“Because your clothes were ruined, I’m going to compensate you.”

As he spoke, Ian gestured toward Jina’s pants.

It was the same outfit she wore yesterday. Although she had brushed off the dirt, the damage from her fall was permanent. The fabric near her knee was roughened to the point where a hole would soon appear. Jina patted it with her hand.

“This much is fine.”

She meant it sincerely. These were just comfortable pants she had bought several pairs of on sale at a city SPA brand. She had no particular attachment to them.

“Drop me off near the station.”

“Is there somewhere specific you need to go?”

“Not particularly. I just thought I’d buy some clothes and step out for a bit.”

“Even better.”

“No, I mean, you don’t have to buy them for me.”

“As the dog’s owner, I have to take responsibility.”

“You said it was the Chairman’s dog.”

“Do you want the Chairman to buy it for you directly? I’ll contact him now.”

Saying so, Ian took out his mobile phone. Jina, startled, grabbed his hand.

“Are you insane?”

Then, as their eyes met, she realized. He was teasing her.

“Ah, honestly.” With a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, she let go of his hand.

Judging by his attitude, he wouldn’t easily back down unless she allowed him to buy her a new set of clothes.

His demanding nature is still the same.

Thinking that his stubborn refusal to let go until he got his way was still a core part of him, she waved her hand in concession.

“Do as you please. If it’s just a pair of pants, there’s no reason to refuse if you’re going to buy me new ones.”

Finally getting the answer he wanted, a flicker of satisfied amusement spread across his face.

“I didn’t expect you to refuse the offer in the first place.”

“I refused because I didn’t think I had a legitimate reason to accept.”

“Others would jump at the chance, even without a reason.”

Jina remembered the image of him waving wads of money in the past. He had boasted that money flowed everywhere for him; there must have been countless people trying to extract favors from him. It wasn’t that she felt pity for him because of his boasting, but…

When Jina didn’t reply, the conversation stalled. Then, he asked another question.

“How much do you know about your grandmother?”

“My grandmother?”

“Yes. The one who bequeathed Kno Diarg Mansion to you.”

“I thought you hated talking about that mansion.”

“It’s not me, it’s my grandfather who hates it. Though he doesn’t seem to care much about it now.”

Despite the fact that one person—or rather, two people—had died and one was missing, the Chairman seemed unconcerned as long as his grandson was safe.

She wondered if she had to answer, but since Ian was also involved with the place and the subject wasn’t a secret, Jina answered openly.

“I don’t know much. Before I inherited the mansion, I didn’t even know my grandmother was alive. I heard about her once when I was young, but my father didn’t say much after that. It seemed like all contact had been severed.”

“So, there was no contact at all?”

“It was only after she passed away that the lawyer from the trust company contacted me, so there’s no way we could have been in touch.”

“Did she leave anything besides the mansion?”

“Hmm… Four hundred thousand pounds that disappeared thanks to you guys, and two thousand pounds I receive monthly? Other than that, nothing else.”

“Not a single item or book?” Ian was asking, with strange focus, if she had inherited anything besides the physical property from Frida Troll.

“Why? Is there a problem if I received something separate?” She couldn’t understand why he was fixated on such trivial things.

“I was merely curious because it seems there are things passed down separately within the Troll Family.”

“The Troll Family? What is that?”

“Although you seem unaware of it, that family possesses ancient knowledge passed down from their ancestors. Occult knowledge, you could say.”

At the word ‘occult,’ Jina rested her chin on her hand. Her mother had abandoned her, obsessed with Asian shamanism, but was her father’s side from a family involved in the occult? Neither of them knew, but perhaps it was a bizarre coincidence that they had met people from such families.

Come to think of it… I haven’t unblocked her yet.

Thinking of her mother, Jina took out her mobile phone and fiddled with it. In her messenger, the contact labeled ‘Korean Woman’ still had a block mark next to it.

Should I unblock it?

From the mansion incident to the hotel affair, only difficult things kept happening, so she had deliberately blocked the contact. Otherwise, she felt she might end up calling and crying about how hard things were. She hated that more than anything.

It might be okay now.

In just a few days, her situation had improved remarkably. Money aside, the peace of mind gained from a comfortable home and good people nearby was something difficult to obtain even with wealth.

Having thought that far, Jina looked at Ian and said.

“I forgot to say it properly. Thank you for hiring me.”

“…”

“Thanks to you, things have become much easier. The other staff members are kind, too.”

As he listened to Jina’s sincere reply, he abruptly asked, “Are you alright at night?”

“…”

“Sleep. Are you sleeping well?”

His words dragged her back to the dream. Although many parts were still hazy, she vividly recalled hugging his neck and kissing his cheek in the dream.

Was it… really just that?

She felt a flash of something more. Ian had taken off her clothes. Then, as if it were the most natural thing, he bit and sucked her breasts. And he, too, took off his clothes and climbed on top of her…

“…”

The horrific scene that briefly surfaced instantly receded into the fog. But the shock remained, burning hot. Jina covered her mouth with her hand unconsciously.

I’m crazy!

Was she sexually frustrated? But Ian, of all people? While she was grateful for the job, she had never once thought of him as an object of desire. Only days ago, he was one of the people she resented most.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing…”

“Are you having strange dreams?”

At his words, which seemed to pierce her very thoughts, she let out a startled gasp. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red because of it.

As Jina’s lips parted to deny him, he smiled and asked again.

“Does perhaps I appear in your dreams?”

“I do not!” Her guilty conscience made her shout the denial. She saw the driver glance back briefly in the rearview mirror.

While Jina was frantically fanning her face with her coat collar to cool down, the car stopped. Ian glanced outside and said.

“We’ve arrived. Let’s go shopping.”

He got out first and, with a low grunt, took Jina’s hand as she scrambled to exit, escorting her onto the pavement.

Thinking she was receiving too much attention for something so trivial, Jina belatedly lifted her head and saw, towering before her, the department store where the most exorbitant, expensive items in London were gathered.

A distinguished-looking doorman in a light green coat and hat held the door for incoming customers. Inside, a uniformed security guard stood sentinel, and people who looked overwhelmingly wealthy streamed past.

Of course, Jina was not barred from entering such a place. But anything she bought there was limited to chocolates from the food hall or a newly released foreign brand of donuts.

For any other items, the most expensive purchase she had ever made was perfume for a friend. Clothes and tableware were sections where she would simply laugh at the impossible prices.

Why had he brought her here?

“My jeans cost ten pounds,” Jina said flatly.

“And?”

“The cheapest pair of jeans in here would cost at least ten times that.”

That was the most optimistic estimate, assuming she found a sale rack. Even the same global brands sold here were exclusively the high-end, more expensive versions. Besides, the clientele who frequented this place didn’t bother with price tags anyway.

Ian extended his hand toward the entrance, an obvious invitation. Jina didn’t move. No matter how she calculated it, his gesture was unsettling.

Ian was exhibiting more concern for her than necessary. While his obsession with her employment—and by extension, her meals—was understandable given his condition, there was no reason for him to buy her clothes, especially not here.

“If you feel so bad, just give me ten pounds. I’ll buy the replacements myself.”

“I can’t do that. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have brought you all this way.”

“Seriously, why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

For a fleeting, embarrassing second, she considered if he might have feelings for her. She instantly scoffed at the thought. Ian Aylesford?

She knew too well the depth of his self-indulgence and promiscuity. A quick online search of his name brought up a flood of photos with not just escorts, but famous celebrities and women from noble or wealthy families.

And he would go to such lengths to pursue her?

The very idea was humiliating.

“If you want something, just say it. I’ll listen, and then I’ll decide.”

Ian remained silent for a moment, sensing her firm refusal to budge without a clear answer. Then, with what sounded like genuine, grinding difficulty, he let out a short sigh and replied,

“I am trying to become a new person. If I’ve wronged someone, I want to apologize properly and make amends for any harm I’ve caused. It’s an exercise, something I have never done before, and frankly, Jina, you are the most suitable person for me to practice with.”

As she listened, Jina suddenly realized he was pronouncing her name correctly, the way her mother did—Jin-a.

“I know the term ‘practice partner’ sounds offensive. But you’re the only person around me who tells me directly when something bothers them. Thanks to you, I can instantly see what I’ve done wrong, or that I shouldn’t approach something a certain way. The people at the mansion, as you saw… would they react to me like that?”

“…No.”

The mansion was the heart of the Chairman’s empire. Everyone who worked there was fiercely loyal, proud to wear the Aylesford crest. They would never break composure or drop their smiles, no matter what Ian did.

She could understand his point to an extent, but she still felt profoundly uneasy. Jina glanced toward the department store entrance. Had they been contacted in advance? Several employees in tailored suits stood nearby, their gazes practically willing her to enter quickly.

“And this is also a bribe, so you won’t be too afraid when I bring a new dog home soon. What do you think? Is that a good enough reason for me to buy you clothes?”

Ian and the employees were waiting. She had intended to buy new clothes anyway.

Jina stopped overthinking. It would be easier to buy the clothes quickly and get away from Ian. Besides, what was the harm if he bought her one outfit?

“Fine. I’ll accept it.”

As she resigned herself and walked inside, the employees’ faces lit up even brighter than Ian’s. Moving with the security guards, she felt the eyes of other shoppers glancing at them.

They seemed to wonder who this person was, receiving such special treatment in a place filled with London’s elite. A few recognized Ian and snapped quick photos with their mobile phones.

Jina instinctively pressed closer to Ian’s body, subtly using him as a shield. She didn’t want to be the subject of gossip about his ‘new girlfriend.’

Well… will they just assume he brought a new courtesan? No, that doesn’t fit either. Those women always had a certain, excessive flair to their appearance. She, at best, looked like a bewildered tourist awkwardly walking next to him.

As she stepped into the elevator, Jina thought, I should be able to buy everything I need and escape in about thirty minutes.

They went up to the women’s wear section, and Jina headed straight for a brand she knew.

Even in this high-end store, it was a global name she owned a few shirts and pants from—a brand even a teenager, saving their allowance, might buy a t-shirt from.

Of course, the items here were several times more expensive than the ten-pound jeans she had discarded, but she felt this would be an acceptable compensation that wouldn’t leave her with a crushing debt of gratitude.

She chose a simple pair of jeans in the plainest design and stated her size. As soon as the employee brought them, she asked for them to be wrapped immediately and looked pointedly at Ian.

Now that it’s done, just pay for it, she thought.

But Ian picked up another item of clothing and offered it to Jina.

“This one would suit you better.”

A quick-witted employee smoothly backed Ian, chiming in to recommend the cut for the customer’s specific body type. They had already figured out who held the purse strings.

“These are clothes I’m going to wear. Isn’t it enough if they’re to my taste?”

“I respect your taste, but I think this is superior. Why don’t you try it on?”

Before she could protest, the employee guided her towards the fitting room.

Honestly, the one Ian had chosen looked better. The problem was, it also looked noticeably more expensive.

Since he’s buying me one outfit anyway, should I just pick the nicer one? The price difference between her choice and this one seemed utterly irrelevant to Ian, though it was a substantial sum to her.

When she came out wearing the pants the employee had given her, they truly did fit her perfectly.

“Customer, would you like to try this on for your top?” The employee, an aggressively skilled salesperson, handed her a winter shirt. Jina took it, nodded, and put it on. It matched the pants well.

I should buy this one too, she thought. Believing it wouldn’t be too much of a burden, she looked for the price tag when Ian casually asked,

“Are you planning to buy that as well?”

“Yes. I’m a bit short on winter clothes.”

It was an honest answer, given without a thought to how Ian might interpret it.

In the end, he bought the pair of pants, as he had promised. Jina paid for the other shirt herself. Looking at the price on the receipt, which was much higher than she had anticipated, she felt a slight wave of regret and turned away.

She had received her compensation and was about to say goodbye when he asked,

“Are you busy?”

“…Why?”

“Since you’re already here, I’d like you to help me with one thing.”

She wondered what kind of assistance he could possibly need when he could command any professional staff with a single finger.

However, since she was here, she wanted to look around a bit more. With Ian—or rather, the security guards—at her side, the staff’s attitude was exceptionally friendly.

“Alright, I guess.”

At the time, she thought it would be a quick favor. But…

“How about trying on this one this time?”

A polite department store employee offered Jina a new coat with a professionally sweet smile.

She was about to say she’d tried on enough, but the feel of the fabric under her fingertips was so soft that she accepted it without thinking.

Taking off the coat she was wearing and putting on the new one, she liked the snug fit. The only flaw was a slight tightness in the chest, but it was such a magnificent coat that she could easily overlook that.

She raised her arms to check the sleeves and length, then quickly took the coat off. It would be a disaster if she allowed herself to want it by wearing it for too long.

As Jina hastily removed the garment, the employee said with a hint of disappointment, “It suits you so well, would you like to look in the mirror one more time?”

“No. It’s fine.”

Turning away, she saw Ian speaking to a department store security guard standing nearby. Then he said to Jina,

“Shall we go to the next store?”

At his words, Jina’s legs felt physically weak. How many times had she put on and taken off clothes today, like a simple mannequin?

I was a fool to agree to help him.

Jina bit back her tears, regretting her casual assent.

She had agreed to help, thinking it was a somewhat interesting experience.

From that point on, Ian acted as if the real shopping was just beginning, leading her to stores filled with high-end luxury brands on two more floors.

“The person I’m gifting it to is a woman, and her build is similar to yours, Jina.”

She wondered when he had started subtly calling her by her first name instead of Miss Troll. But it felt awkward to demand he use her surname again, so she remained silent.

The resulting store-hopping visited over ten places, with no sign of an end. Furthermore, in one store, the employees even took her measurements. They claimed it was to ensure the clothes fit as perfectly as possible, even if they weren’t for her, leaving her no room to object.

And so, after going round and round, it came to this.

“It’s finished now.”

“But you didn’t buy anything?”

Ian hadn’t paid for a single item. Nor had the employees wrapped any clothes.

“It’s a shame, but it can’t be helped.”

She felt a brief pang of guilt, wondering if she hadn’t been a good enough model for him. If that’s the case, he should have brought another woman to try them on.

At least it was over, she thought with immense relief. Jina extended her hand to Ian, who was holding the shopping bag with the first item he had bought.

“Then I’ll be going now…”

Just as she was about to say goodbye, Ian spoke quickly.

“Since you helped me, I’d like to treat you to a meal. Do you know this restaurant?”

He then leaned down and whispered in a low voice near Jina’s ear. Jina’s eyes went wide.

“Wow…”

As soon as they stepped out of the car in Mayfair, Jina gasped in admiration.

Ian had brought her to a restaurant in a prestigious hotel—one of London’s five coveted Michelin three-star establishments.

The entrance alone was magnificent. Passing through a hall defined by red pillars and a grand piano, they entered a space filled with fresh flower arrangements and elegantly dressed patrons dining in hushed tones.

As Ian entered, the floor manager emerged as if he were expected and smoothly guided him forward.

As they walked through the room, a few guests who seemed to recognize Ian paused, put down their cutlery, and whispered quickly to their neighbors.

Then, they blatantly scrutinized Jina from head to toe. Their stares made their judgmental thoughts obvious.

Despite the stares, she didn’t turn back. She knew how difficult it was to get a reservation here. While it wasn’t impossible to book, the head chef had announced his retirement next year, meaning reservations were already booked solid until then.

Ian, however, walked in as casually as if he were buying a takeaway sandwich.

The floor manager led the two to a window seat overlooking the garden. Tucked away, this spot was difficult for other guests’ eyes to reach, shielded by surrounding pillars and walls. A place with a garden view that also offered complete privacy—clearly the hardest seat to obtain.

I wonder if Aylesford Group books several of these seats in advance.

When the pre-meal bread arrived, Jina first took a photo. Then, she quickly transferred a piece to her plate, spread butter on it, and put it in her mouth.

Delicious!

While the bread baked fresh at the mansion every morning was top-tier, this place was by no means inferior. Moreover, this was food made by someone else, not herself.

The courses began to arrive slowly. The moment she took a bite, Jina’s expression softened involuntarily.

“It’s delicious…”

Things made with care, using the finest ingredients, tasted exquisite. It had been so long since she had eaten food prepared by someone else so comfortably, aside from her own cooking.

Jina ate diligently, her fork moving swiftly.

As she scraped the last of the sauce left on her plate with her fork, already feeling a pang of regret, another plate was placed beside her.

“Eat.”

While the waiter was momentarily distracted, Ian placed his plate next to Jina. The food was untouched, exactly as it had arrived.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

She asked, surprised, then realized it was a foolish question. Wasn’t the very reason she was hired because Ian couldn’t eat?

As Jina’s expression shifted to understanding, Ian said softly, “It won’t do you any good if people see me leave food untouched. So, I’d be grateful if you could consume it for me.”

“…Is that why you asked me to dine with you?”

“It’s a bit of both. My grandfather had originally made the reservation, but he had another engagement today. And it wouldn’t be pleasant if I sat here and proclaimed the food was delicious without ever touching it.”

So he had brought Jina, who knew his condition, to eat the food for him.

“What if I tell everyone why I went to a three-star restaurant?”

“Do you have a hobby of increasing your debt?”

“…”

His casual threat instantly killed her appetite, and Jina clamped her mouth shut.

At least she knew the reason for her presence. There was no need to hesitate now.

Jina quickly handed her finished plate back to Ian and, as if nothing had happened, placed the fresh plate in front of herself. He let out a low chuckle, finding her actions amusing.

You should be grateful, why is he laughing like that? Grumbling inwardly, Jina moved her fork without hesitation. She had already wanted more to eat, and she hadn’t expected Ian’s psychological issues to be so beneficial to her stomach.

The newly served portion also vanished into Jina’s mouth in an instant.

The meal turned out to be a more enjoyable occasion than Jina had expected. The perfect food, the exquisite venue, and even the conversation.

At first, she had only planned to finish the meal quickly and return to the mansion, but the conversation began when he asked questions about why she chose her profession.

Ian asked more questions than she had anticipated and was an incredibly attentive listener.

Lost in memories, she found herself speaking at length about even trivial matters, yet he listened calmly and responded appropriately, keeping her story flowing.

Before she knew it, the story of Emily came up.

“I really believed her… but…”

Here, she should have laughed and said she was foolish, that she had learned a great lesson and would never go through such a thing again. Instead, tears welled up.

After graduation, she’d seen the subtle, cold glances at home, gently encouraging her to leave. Why had she become so painfully dependent on someone else? Every time she heard Emily say, “I’m proud of you,” or “I love you,” her heart ached deep inside.

She wished her own father had said such things more often. He cared for his children, but he was a man of few words, and having been hurt by his divorce, he lacked the capacity to openly nurture them. This made him even more taciturn, and as Jina entered puberty, their conversations became stiff and awkward.

Perhaps that’s why she had clung to Emily even more. After her father passed away, she was genuinely happy when Emily had held onto her, saying, “You’re all I have left.”

Jina quickly dabbed her eyes with a napkin. To suddenly shed tears while talking about family—what profound discourtesy to the man sitting opposite her.

“I’m sorry. I guess my feelings about Emily haven’t quite settled yet.”

She tried to say it nonchalantly, as if it were a minor inconvenience, but her voice trembled terribly.

Instead of replying, Ian moved closer and sat beside her, gently patting her shoulder as if to say, it’s alright. Normally, she would have flinched at such close contact, but today, his quiet, comforting demeanor felt like an unexpected gift.

As Jina stopped crying and calmed down, Ian quickly returned to his seat. His matter-of-fact attitude, as if the comforting gesture had meant nothing more than a courtesy, put Jina further at ease.

He didn’t ask any more questions about Emily or other family matters. Instead, he inquired about Jina’s friends. Fortunately, those stories were full of happy memories, which helped lift her spirits, which had been dampened by the mention of Emily.

After the meal, the chef came out to greet Ian personally. He seemed very pleased to see Ian, mentioning how much he owed to his grandfather and asking for his continued support.

From their conversation, it seemed the chef had secured a lucrative position in the Aylesford Group’s food and beverage division after his planned retirement. The budgets discussed were sums Jina could never have imagined in her daily life. And Ian’s casual demeanor when discussing such astronomical figures made him seem profoundly different.

Honestly, I thought ‘how much different could he really be?’ but…

Watching him speak with the chef, the easy cadence of a man who commanded fortunes, Jina was struck anew by the reality of his lineage.

He was the Aylesford heir, after all.

“Ian, and this young lady?” The chef’s attention swiveled to Jina, curiosity softening his professional gaze.

Ian introduced her, the words carrying an unnerving possessiveness. “Jina Troll. She’s the one currently in charge of my meals at the Hampstead Heath mansion.”

The chef’s professional facade slipped, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features. “Someone so young? That’s remarkable. That position is rumored to be harder to get than a kitchen spot at most famous London restaurants. And to be Ian’s personal chef, you must be incredibly skilled. Was our food to your liking? I hope it suited your palate.”

He waited, a playful smirk twisting his lips.

“Of course!”

It had been more than to her liking. It was a flawless meal—one so good she’d consumed two full portions, her own and Ian’s, before scraping the dessert plate clean. More than that, she felt a burning need to ask questions, a culinary education waiting to be unlocked.

She couldn’t justify keeping such a busy person any longer. Yet, as if sensing her internal conflict, the chef glanced at his watch. “If you’re not busy afterward…”

“I’m free! I have no schedule!” Jina blurted out, urgency sharpening her tone.

The chefs at the mansion were immensely talented, but the man before her was a reigning titan of the culinary world. Every word he spoke—about the latest trends, future culinary directions, new interpretations of food—was an asset she couldn’t afford to lose.

“Then, would you wait just a moment? Ian, what about you?”

“I have no particular matters either. I’ll wait with you.” As he spoke, Ian’s thumb was already moving across his phone screen, a quick message sent to his waiting secretary. His afternoon was now clear.

They settled into the quiet, post-lunch lull of the restaurant, chatting enthusiastically about the intricacies of Aylesford business and the art of cuisine. By the time the conversation found its natural conclusion, a good bottle of wine was nearly empty. They weren’t drunk, but the rich warmth had certainly lifted their spirits.

They parted ways, emerging onto the street in front of the hotel.

“Let’s meet again, Miss Jina. If you ever grow tired of the mansion, you’re welcome to come our way.”

“If you’d have me, anytime!” she replied, the light reply concealing the excitement thrumming beneath her ribs.

“Who said you could.” A sudden, steel-trap grip clamped around her shoulder from behind, yanking her back. Ian’s voice was a low growl. “She’s mine.”

The single word, possessive and absolute, startled both Jina and the chef.

“Food is the most important thing, after all. Isn’t that right?” Ian continued, a serene smile smoothing the hard edge from his expression. The tension broke. They took it as a joke, sharing a final round of pleasantries and laughter.

An employee came looking for the chef a moment later, and he apologized before disappearing back into the restaurant. Ian’s car had still not arrived. Jina considered slipping into the lobby’s warmth to wait, but since Ian made no move to leave the cold, she remained outside with him.

London’s winter rarely dipped below freezing, but the overnight rain had left a bone-deep chill that clung to the air. It’s cold. Jina stole a glance at Ian.

He stood unbothered, perfectly composed against the biting air. Then, his word from moments ago—mine—flashed in her memory. He had framed it around her cooking, around the food, yet her cheeks flushed with a strange, internal heat.

It was as if she had heard a confession spoken in veiled terms, a claim that had nothing to do with the kitchen…

Jina quickly shook her head. The wine, the cold, Ian’s surprising amiability—she was letting her mind drift into absurdities.

Still, her gaze drifted back to him. When they first met, she’d thought his beauty was a shameful waste. His arrogance and casual cruelty were the problem;

if he kept his mouth shut, he could walk a runway.

Now, standing there in his impeccably tailored clothes, he looked ready to leap off a magazine cover.

She understood precisely why Chairman Aylesford hadn’t given up hope on his grandson.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He’d been silently watching the street, but his attention snapped to hers. Their eyes met, and a prickle of guilt—the feeling of being caught—made her heart jump. She feigned nonchalance and offered a bold reply.

“Because you’re handsome.”

She expected a similarly cheeky retort to cut the moment.

“……”

He simply remained silent for a moment, his gaze pinning her in place. Jina was the one who ended up feeling awkward, the silence stretching into an unexpected intimacy.

“What? Is this the first time you’ve heard you’re handsome?”

As if. The man must have been drowning in that compliment his whole life.

“Well, people didn’t seem to like me much.”

He turned away, peering intently at his reflection in the hotel’s glass doors. He was persistent, as if searching for something hidden just behind the mirrored surface.

“Everyone just ran away from me.”

“A long time ago?”

“Yes. A very long time ago.”

Jina let out a small, incredulous laugh. She figured those who had avoided Ian in the past were simply weary of his antics, choosing not to be caught in his wake.

At that moment, Ian’s gaze fell, cold and focused, on a small garden across the lobby. Various people sat on the scattered benches, including an elderly man reading a newspaper with a large bag tucked beside him.

Ian’s scrutiny swept over the man before returning to Jina, the shift imperceptible. After a moment of chilling stillness, he took in the woman before him. She was stamping her feet and rubbing her arms, her composure breaking under the cold.

Ian slipped out of his coat and draped the heavy garment over Jina’s shoulders.

“Oh?”

“Put it on. You look cold.”

Normally, she would have refused, dismissing the offer. But the wine’s fading warmth made the chill feel even more intense, sinking deep into her bones. Jina clutched the coat tight so it wouldn’t slip and offered Ian a genuine thanks.

Perhaps expensive things really were better. The coat was heavy, a comforting weight, and incredibly warm. Without thinking, she burrowed into the residual heat and inhaled the scent clinging to the fabric.

“……?”

It was a scent she knew. The scent that had haunted her room after sleeping. It was a peculiar, potent fragrance—like a deep forest, yet with a subtle, almost metallic undertone. The more she smelled it, the more she found herself drawn in, burying her nose in the material as if entranced.

“What cologne do you wear?”

“Why?”

“I’ve been smelling something similar lately and I’m curious because I can’t figure out what it is.”

Ian named a designer cologne Jina had heard of countless times. The scent on his coat, however, was only partially similar; the main, underlying note was entirely different. She couldn’t press him further—cologne mixed with a person’s natural chemistry could alter it completely, and to insist would be a gross rudeness.

Still, it’s not a bad scent. Jina took a few more deep inhales, pulling the coat closer. Why was his car taking so long?

It suddenly struck her that she was waiting for Ian’s car as if it were the most natural event. She dropped her head, a blush crawling up her neck. Since when had she begun accepting his favors so readily?

Meanwhile, Ian finished texting on his phone. A short while later, the car they were waiting for pulled up.

“Here, thank you for the coat.”

“Keep it on. Your lips are still blue.” Ian didn’t take the coat. Instead, he opened the car door for her, playing the doorman.

“……Thank you.”

Having shivered to the point of pain, she capitulated, accepting his kindness. Jina slid inside, followed by Ian, and the door closed. As the car pulled away from the curb, the man on the bench across the street folded his newspaper, opened his bag, and checked its contents. He sent a text message somewhere, his words cold and clinical:

📱[Photo taken. I’ll send one of the screen capture first. Once payment is made, I’ll send all videos and photos.]

The car’s heater was turned up so high it was nearly suffocating. Jina contemplated asking the driver to lower the temperature, but her eyelids were already growing heavy.

A day of frantic shopping, nearly two portions of food, and several glasses of rich wine had done their work.

Moving from the biting cold into such intense warmth, she couldn’t fight the overwhelming drowsiness. Before the car had even passed Camden, Jina had fallen into a deep, profound sleep.

Watching Jina’s head lean against the window, her breathing deep and even, Ian’s thoughts drifted back to the man outside.

He had sensed the man’s intent from the moment he sat down. He had pretended ignorance, observing him closely, wondering who had come looking, and for what purpose—especially since no one should know what he was.

The target, he realized, was ‘Ian Aylesford.’

The man’s eyes were hidden behind the newspaper, but the camera, his true eyes, were aimed at Ian.

He’d heard the faint whirring of the machine and the quiet shutter click, modified but not silenced enough to fool him.

When he realized the man was photographing not only him but Jina as well, his investigation found its true purpose.

After a moment of chilling clarity, he’d deliberately handed his coat to Jina.

He would have done it anyway, given how she’d been trembling like she was about to die, but as anticipated, the camera’s shutter intensified with the gesture.

He immediately contacted his secretary. He wanted the man in front of the hotel, the one pretending to read a newspaper, identified.

Aylesford’s staff had no shortage of capable individuals; they would discover the stalker’s identity and objective within a few hours.

His thoughts complete, Ian extended his arm. A creeping darkness flowed slowly from his fingertips.

Was he becoming more accustomed to this body now?

He was far more adept at using his power than when he had first become this… thing. His gaze fell upon Jina, sleeping heavily. It had been some time since he had consumed a human, yet he could endure the hunger.

The last thing I ate was just a dog.

It was a dog that barked, unaware of the raw danger in its target. He had momentarily considered letting it live, a strange sort of appreciation for its loyalty to its human owner, but the moment he learned it had attacked and injured Jina, he found no reason for its continued existence.

He had torn it to shreds. Unsated, he’d gnawed on its hide and fur, throwing the bones into a remote corner of the mansion where they would bleach white before any human found them.

In any case, a single dog could not sate the deep, grinding hunger within him. He was, after all, a being born to devour everything.

Born to consume all living things, to swallow the very blades of grass and the dust of this land until nothing was left to eat—and then to swallow himself.

He recalled the first word spoken by humans when they met him, their faces twisted in a primal, terrified scream:

Troll!

The word they used for him, the oldest fear of the northern lands. He was indifferent to whatever name they used.

What meaning could the names humans attached hold?

Those names, too, were merely things he would eventually devour.

Regardless, his hunger remained. Yet, he could endure without swallowing anything else because he continuously felt a subtle sense of fullness.

The darkness that spread from his hand touched the driver’s body. His eyes turned entirely black, devoid of whites, all human expression draining away. Yet his hands and feet continued to drive the car with practiced skill, a hollow automaton. He would continue this way until they reached the mansion.

Having confirmed he had completely dominated the driver’s consciousness, he unhesitatingly reached out and lifted Jina, who was still asleep against the window, into his arms.

Her consciousness was also suppressed; she wouldn’t wake easily. Even if she did, she wouldn’t remember this situation clearly, just like the night before.

“She seemed to remember a little.”

When he’d asked if she was sleeping well, her voice had trembled, her face flushing to her neck, unable to meet his gaze. He knew the reaction stemmed from embarrassment. The emotion he saw was not disgust, but shame.

This meant she didn’t dislike what he had done during the night. The realization made his lower body grow stiff again.

He was sitting down, his thick clothes concealing his arousal, but she wouldn’t have seen it then either. He was hard. He wanted to drag her into the mansion and make her spread her legs again.

He held Jina tighter in his embrace. It was an immense pleasure to see her enveloped in clothes soaked with his scent.

When she had worn his coat and asked about his cologne, he had nearly laughed aloud. His nightly efforts hadn’t been in vain; Jina had properly recognized his scent.

Knowing that the smell filling her body upon waking was his, she would think of him every time she inhaled it.

As always, he kissed Jina’s lips. He had done this enough times that her lips now accepted him quite naturally.

Her body was eager to learn.

Slurp. Smack.

Soon, the car was filled with wet, smacking sounds. Each time his tongue probed the soft, inner part of her mouth and pushed against her throat, the body cradled in his arms flinches.

“Hngh…!” A pleasant moan escaped her.

In the back seat, Ian toyed with the sleeping woman, but the driver continued to drive forward as if nothing at all was happening.

In truth, even without suppressing his consciousness, the driver would pretend not to see the scene behind him.

Pretend not to see, not to hear, not to speak.

This was the rule of those closest to Aylesford.

He had suppressed the driver’s mind for Jina, however. With his tongue newly skilled, her breath hitched in shallow gasps and moans.

Jina’s everything, filling his mouth, was delicious, but even the sound of it made him feel full.

The more he heard it, the more pleasant it felt. He didn’t want to share this with other humans.

Though it wouldn’t diminish him, the very thought of human males hearing that sound made his mood plummet.

Their disgusting penises would swell, and they would try to thrust them between Jina’s legs.

He recalled the memory of a sweet taste. The thought of male semen being spilled there brought on a blinding urge to tear apart any male he saw.

This is mine.

No other creature’s scent should be on her. He would never allow it. He seriously considered killing all human males in the world.

He could do it.

It would just take time. He briefly imagined a world where he had swallowed everything else, leaving only Jina.

…It wasn’t a bad thought.

The car was now nearing the mansion. He gently moved Jina back to his side, then slipped his hand under her shirt, caressing her flat stomach and the full, heavy swell of her breasts—flesh he had pressed his body against only the day before.

“I wondered why she bothered with clothes, but…”

To him, human clothing was merely bothersome scraps of fabric, annoying layers difficult to remove.

He could swallow the clothes, but he preferred living things; they were just annoying packaging.

Yet, the body’s previous owner had memories of other females smiling and clinging to him when he bought them clothes, so he had bought them for Jina as well. But she had strongly conveyed her refusal to accept them.

He found her bothersome, yet she acted as if she wouldn’t take the clothes he purchased for her, and he could say nothing against it.

Still, I bought them.

Everything Jina had worn today would be delivered to the designated location. Some items she hadn’t worn would be included.

This wasn’t bad either.

Just as humans found joy in beautifully packaging meat, he, too, found a strange pleasure in seeing Jina adorned in colorful fabrics. It made her look much better.

With a hint of regret, he stroked the tip of her breast with his finger, then withdrew his hand. They had arrived at the mansion entrance.

Now, he had to release the power that had suppressed the driver and Jina.

When Ian withdrew his power, the driver snapped back to himself, a violent flinch running through his body before the professional reflex took over, refocusing his attention on the mansion entrance.

He would believe that she had arrived here without incident.

Unlike the driver, who had regained his senses with such immediate discipline, Jina remained heavily asleep even after her mind’s chains were loosened. The car came to a smooth stop in front of the main house. Jina showed no sign of stirring.

Should I simply carry her inside like this? It was an approach he knew she enjoyed. He could suppress the minds of everyone in the immediate vicinity, take her directly to his room, and toy with her until dawn.

He debated the merits of such a move, his hand reaching for hers.

“Oh…?”

Her eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly, heavy with sleep. Even in their hazy, unfocused state, he found himself thinking how delicious they looked as their gazes finally met.

The fog cleared from her expression as she registered him. He expected the sudden jolt of surprise, the reflexive attempt to pull her hand away. But contrary to his assumption, Jina simply covered her mouth with the collar of his coat, the fabric muffling a small yawn, and then gripped his sleeve, using his arm to pull herself out of the car.

She accepted his assistance as if it were a normal, expected courtesy.

Once outside, Jina carefully shrugged off Ian’s heavy coat and presented it to him.

“I didn’t even realize we’d arrived. Thanks for the coat. Oh, and my clothes.”

Handing back the garment, she quickly snatched the shopping bag from the car seat and, with another faint yawn, addressed him.

“We’re eating dinner here tonight, right? If there’s anything else you want to eat, tell the secretaries. Thanks again for the coat.”

She gave the shopping bag a light shake and, with a quick, stretching step, headed toward the house.

He watched her disappear with that buoyant, light-footed gait—the stride of someone who had slept exceptionally well—before turning immediately toward his own rooms.

Ian collapsed onto the sofa in his suite, burying his face in the coat he’d carried in. The sharp, possessive blend of Jina’s scent and his own was potent.

Lost in the cloth’s fragrant darkness, he considered the moment in the car.

As expected, she’s different.

Every night, he trespassed into Jina’s mind and made her accept him, a ritual that was always satisfying. But when she had grabbed his hand so naturally just now, so unguardedly, he realized the existence of a greater satisfaction.

The sight of her coming to him on her own, rather than being dragged in by his will. The very possibility of it brought an immense pleasure, a sense of fullness that was enough to stave off the hunger with the mere imagining.

So, I’m still holding back.

He wanted to see Jina willingly thrust herself into him, between his waiting, wet legs. He wanted her to initiate, to show him the true, unbridled carnal desires of humans, a mystery he still couldn’t fully decipher.

Troll. The lineage that had tried to destroy him millennia ago. When he realized he couldn’t kill the ancestor, he had created an abyss and trapped him within. Could those insignificant, striving mortals have ever imagined that their descendants would reach out to him first?

But just buying her clothes isn’t enough yet. The other females in his memory had practically died of delight over his gifts, yet Jina had looked only troubled. Still, it was a fortunate discovery that he knew what else she liked.

Expensive human food.

He knew the dishes they’d had were quite good. The food served today was something he could easily consume if he wished. But seeing Jina happily eat her portion, then look wistful, had prompted him to offer his. When she had asked him to help conceal Ian Aylesford’s selective fasting, she had swallowed the offer—and the food—readily, with no hint of hesitation.

With every bite, Jina’s eyes softened, and her lips curved upward, a sight he found acutely pleasing. When fed well, she would gain weight. If he continued to feed her such exquisite things, when he eventually consumed Jina, she would be softer, more delicious.

Just then, his mobile phone chimed. It was the report he had requested.

📱[We have confirmed who the man you mentioned is. Jin Derbys, a freelance paparazzo. We’ve confirmed he’s being contacted by one of the Carrington family’s secretaries. It seems the photos have already been passed on, what should we do?]

“Carrington…” He was well aware that the head of that family had been rendered practically insane since his grandson collapsed at the party, never to regain consciousness. If such a person saw Jina associated with him…

He immediately sent a reply.

📱[Leave it.]

He would allow the danger to take root. That way, Jina would need his help. He had no intention of interfering.