The Mockery Was Sweet. This Moment of Freedom.
One step forward, and a flicker of unease brushed past. Is he really letting me go just because I tried to kill him? Well, I wouldn't want to share a room with someone who'd tried to kill me either.
Another step, and a strange feeling settled in. The hero didn't seem that bad. Everyone else was scheming how to kill me, how to make me suffer the most—but not him. The grief of losing his lover, his subordinates... it had to be immense. And yet, he'd offered me freedom anyway. I was a little disappointed I hadn't managed to kill him, but if this meant a chance at escape, I could call it a blessing.
More than that, there was the part of me rationalizing it: It's because of you that I made this choice. It might look pathetic, twisted even, but I smirked inwardly. Anyone who's been through this hell would do the same, right? Could you just roll over and accept it if you were in my shoes?
Clutching my pounding heart, I walked toward the door. Just as I stepped out of the room—
Thud!
A shock slammed into my body.
“Agh...!!”
With a dull whump, I flew backward, tumbling across the floor. My left arm throbbed with searing pain, trembling so violently I couldn't move it. It hurts, it hurts so much. You said you'd let me go. Why kick me?
Somehow dragging myself up with a groan, I looked up to see the hero standing tall again, frowning down at me. Why had he kicked me if he was letting me go? The answer didn't take long to dawn: he had no intention of releasing me.
I straightened my cloak over my naked body and rose cautiously. My left arm wouldn't respond properly, but I wasn't planning to fight anyone anyway. Once upright, I pondered my next move. Time was short. Should I apologize? Beg to be let out? My head throbbed just trying to think through the tangle.
Wincing at the pounding ache, I stole a glance at the hero. Scary. I should've thought this through after failing to kill him. I'd never imagined it'd fail like this.
As my ragged breaths evened out, he tilted his head, lips curling in what felt like a taunt.
“What, not leaving? I said I'd let you go if you do.”
That hit me. He meant if I could get past him guarding the door, I'd be free. Fail, and not only no freedom—I'd face punishment for trying to kill him. Unfair terms, but I was the desperate one. Failure, refusal... all bad for me. Still, I had to try. It was the only way out of this shitty life.
Potatoes were delicious, sure. But to eat them, I'd endured shame, humiliation, contemptuous stares. Before that scale tipped too far, before I lost my mind, I had to escape.
So I glared at him, eyes wide, brows furrowed. I had nothing—no magic, no strength. Tiny stature, slender limbs, just these oversized tits. Still, I kicked off the floor.
Running was hell; my breasts bounced painfully with every step. But if it meant getting out, I'd endure. Except I never reached the door. His foot slammed into my gut.
Thud. My body reeled back, innards twisting. Nausea surged; tears welled up.
“...Looks like you don't wanna leave after all. Do I turn you on that much?”
“Y-you fucking...”
His mocking tone made me grit my teeth. Staggering up again, I spat out my breath.
“Get... out... of my... way!!”
His eyebrow twitched at my shout. Maybe lure him away? If I couldn't slip past him planted by the door, get him to move. Even this sluggish body needed better odds. Wait—there were two exits. The window.
Glancing that way like I'd struck gold, he sneered.
“Think I can't catch you if you go that way?”
“...”
Damn, he'd grab me before I even opened it. Abandoning that, I glared at the door again, deciding to stick to the plan.
How to provoke him? As I hesitated with a groan, his voice cut in.
“What're you pondering? Go on, leave.”
“Fuck off, I'll handle it...”
His eyebrow twitched again. Seizing the moment, I opened my mouth to bait him—lure him close, then dodge to the door.
“...What a fucking coward.”
My hands shook as the words left me. Not sure if from the beating, but I couldn't stop it. Clutching my racing heart, I rolled my eyes for an opening.
Thud, thud. Footsteps approached. I swallowed hard, biting my lip.
Now...!
Stepping forward—my hair yanked back. Then his fist drove into my gut like a spear.
“Urghk...”
Grinding my teeth, I barely stifled the groan, but it leaked out. An untrained belly couldn't take a punch like that. My guts knotted; the potato I'd eaten threatened to surge up. Heat blurred my vision.
“Hahk, hahk...!”
Finally calming, I gasped. He spoke softly.
“......Use polite speech.”
“What the fuck... you...”
Polite speech? Now? It made no sense amid the agony. Tears welled from the pain. Soft flesh bruised easily, no resistance—pure torment. Grinding my teeth at his bullshit, I snapped.
His fist plunged into my gut again.
“Kk...!”
I couldn't hold it; shoulders jerking, vomit rose. He released my hair, dropping me to the floor. I retched up the potato and bile. He'd made me puke what little I'd eaten—the bastard was insane.
He kicked my side, rolling me away, eyes sharp.
“Polite speech.”
Fury boiled over. Propping up, I screamed.
“What?! What the fuck?! You make me your slave and expect polite speech?! You think I'd use it just 'cause you say so?! And you're pissed when I just need to leave?!”
Why? Why me? The pain shattered my judgment; I just yelled. Relief washed out—then his foot smashed my face.
“One thing wrong with what you said.”
Grabbing my hair, he forced my gaze up. Agony everywhere—gut twisting, ribs aching, jaw mangled.
Through blurring vision, he murmured.
“You're not human.”
“Fuck, fuck... fuck...!”
I was human inside, but this body... he wouldn't believe it. He released me, brushing off his hands with a tsk. Trembling, I crawled toward the door, avoiding his eyes.
His arm snagged my leg.
“And you can't leave—that's why you're like this.”
Dragging me deep into the room, pain like being torn apart. Tears brimmed as he hauled me to the bed. Panting, head down—pathetic, failing to slip past this madman. I want to die. If I can't kill, better to be killed.
Shoulders heaving, he yanked off my cloak.
“N-no...!”
“So what?”
He tore it away indifferently, leaving me naked again. Shame burned; pain everywhere. Body and mind cornered—I was cracking.
“Honestly, trying to kill me and walk free without punishment? Selfish much? My lover and men died to monsters—nearly to a demon too. Without this seal, I'd be dead.”
He wasn't wrong. Yeah, selfish. But after all I'd endured, I deserved a little selfishness. Rationalizing still, I scowled at him.
“You didn't die, so we're good. But I can't keep watching you crawl like this—gotta set the hierarchy straight.”
“...”
At least he wasn't selling me off. I chewed my lip. He sighed heavily, then slapped my cheek.
Crack! Heat exploded; pain followed fast. My left ear rang with tinnitus—reeeeee—mind reeling.
He spoke like issuing a command.
“Polite speech. And answer. Light punishment for trying to kill me, don't you think?”
Light, yeah. But submitting felt wrong. I wanted to resist force. I'm strong. But overwhelming power... maybe obey the strong to suffer less?
Dragging my gaze up, glaring—crack! Cheek aflame again.
Why keep hitting? It hurts, it fucking hurts. This fragile body can't take it.
Lips trembling with resentment:
“...It hurts, stop...”
Crack.
“Hic, sob, please...”
Crack.
“...Ugh, kkh.”
Beat until polite? Torture. Not someone to honor, yet forced to submit—humiliating. Naked too—shameful. Tears burst; swollen, burning cheek and ringing ears overwhelmed me. Streams down my face.
Kill him. Kill myself. Amid the clash, sobbing:
“Please, please... stop, sir...”
Finally, he lowered his hand, sighing deeply.
“See? Listen nicely, and I won't do shit. Be good?”
“...”
Clutching my churning gut, his gaze shifted—then thwack to my head. Balance lost, I crumpled.
He tsked, incredulous.
“Answer me, answer!”
Oh, right—answer too.
“Y-yes, yes...!”
Anything to avoid more.
“Hoo, are all demons dumb bitches?”
Contemptuous stare; he straightened his nightclothes, sighing. I'd ruined his plan to leave post-nap by trying to kill him. I'd flip too. Submitting sucked, but I deserved punishment for failing. Karma?
As I mulled, he muttered curses, looking away. The door loomed before me.
Eh? Chance? Crawl out now? Heart racing, I steadied my throbbing body, crawled—then bolted out.
Too easy—I'd escaped.
“You little shit...”
Elation as he realized, growling, face twisted. Seeing his rage, I smiled. Freedom, what I'd craved...
Blank eyes scanning: just his living room. Freedom for real? Backing away dazed, watching him.
His voice sliced—mocking, unlike his fury.
“Go on, then.”
One corner of his mouth twitched up. Real? Eyeing the front door—then my body. No cloak left; he'd shredded it. Couldn't cover properly anyway.
“...Ah.”
No freedom outside. His smirk sharpened.
“Hurry up—what're you waiting for?”
That mocking voice echoed in my ears.