Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Uninvited Guest (1)
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1.
“Hah...! Hah...!”
The wind whipped past her ears.
Amelia's feet, pounding the ground in a frantic dash with no direction, caught on a protruding rock.
In that instant, her autonomous defense magic activated naturally, pulverizing the stone to dust—but her momentum was too great.
Her body lifted into the air before tumbling down the slope.
From her fine, silky hair to the hem of her elegant dress.
No injuries, but she was covered head to toe in dirt.
Amelia pushed herself up.
Still lingering in her mind like an afterimage was Siwoo's terrifying expression as he hounded her.
'Does crushing my last shred of hope make you feel better? No wonder you tormented me like you wanted to devour me alive.'
'What the hell do you want from me?'
'I'm sorry for bruising your fragile pride five years ago, but if you're just going to keep screwing with me like this, why not just kill me instead?'
Pure, unfiltered rage laid bare.
A face she'd never seen, words she'd never heard, a voice she'd never known.
Siwoo stared at Amelia, resented her, condemned her.
And Amelia crumbled under the weight, fleeing in terror.
“Ugh...”
A sharp ache pierced her chest.
Without thinking, Amelia clutched at her dress.
It felt like a heavy stone had dropped onto her.
No words came; she just wanted to run and hide.
To Amelia, Siwoo's behavior was an unforgivable blasphemy.
Not content with yelling in a witch's presence, he'd shown signs of cursing and even violence.
An absolute act of insubordination she could never pardon.
“How dare... a mere slave...”
If only she could vent the tangled mess of emotions knotted in her chest like yarn.
But she chewed bitterly on the forced words, then realized how utterly hollow and futile they were.
Even if she tried to rage at him, to clench her fists at his outrageous insolence.
She couldn't.
Every time, those piercing eyes flashed back to her.
Eyes brimming with refined fury, glistening with tears.
Even Amelia could tell they were tears of anger, resentment, and sorrow.
Being hated by others didn't faze her.
Amelia had never given a thought to what anyone else thought of her.
But Siwoo was different.
Was he that furious?
Did he hate her that much?
Accepting that she was the cause, the target of that fury—it was too much.
“Master...”
Amelia brushed off the dirt and stood.
White particles began swirling around her.
She missed her master.
She wanted to drop everything and run away.
Amelia's body dissolved into the autumn breeze in an instant.
2.
“Hey! We're not done talking!”
Siwoo chased after Amelia the moment she bolted.
But her magically enhanced steps were impossibly fast; she vanished from sight in under ten seconds.
With his last hope gone, Siwoo's vision went red. He stormed straight into Amelia's room.
“Fuck! I've been holding it in for five goddamn years, and she bails after a few words?”
A lineup of expensive-looking whiskey bottles on display in her room.
He grabbed one, chugged it straight from the bottle to vent his rage.
Touching a witch's belongings without permission was no different from theft, but consequences be damned.
After this meltdown, forgiveness from Amelia was a pipe dream.
That authoritarian witch pardoning a slave who'd spat curses in her face?
More believable: Siwoo, mid-fellatio from gender-swapped Takasho, getting too excited and begging for a facesit.
Still, it felt damn good to get it off his chest.
One regret: not grabbing her before she fled and really letting loose.
After all the torment she'd inflicted, she rabbits the second it was her turn to hear it? That cowardice pissed him off too.
Anyway, she'd come back eventually.
Pay for the rudeness, demoted from assistant back to slave—maybe reassigned as a manor slave.
Or sold off to some nasty witch to die.
“Fucking bitch.”
Siwoo dumped nearly half the whiskey into his gut, dry-heaving once or twice.
This stuff was strong as hell.
With his head already burning, no chance of sobering up.
Pondering how to screw Amelia over big time before the end, his eyes landed on her research notes on the desk.
Pathetic amount compared to what's in her head, but trashing it all might piss her off, right?
“Piss yourself, you cunt. Let my ammonia ruin your precious research.”
He started fumbling with his pants to piss on the pile but barely stopped with his dick out.
“...Nah, forget it.”
Even among scholars, there were ethics.
That vicious Amelia hadn't confiscated Siwoo's own research docs, had she?
If she planned to, she'd have done it while he slept.
No need to leave them by his bed.
Not that it made her any prettier.
He swore to God: when she returned, he'd smash her skull with the bottle, consequences be damned.
“Amelia... you fucking bitch! You shitty blonde-mustached cunt...! Your pubes must prick like hell!”
Siwoo slumped at the table, spewing venom about Amelia while blowing snot bubbles.
Yet after downing half a bottle in under ten minutes, his head was crystal clear.
True hatred conquered even alcohol—that was the revelation.
“Fuck... who needs that kind of enlightenment...?”
Sighing and stewing over Amelia for ages, his gaze caught on a single sheet of paper.
Not research notes.
A corner of scribbled, dense text poked out from under the pile.
“........”
Siwoo tugged it free and read.
Amelia's round handwriting, covered in erasures and rewrites.
Some lines double-struck, others illegibly slanted.
“She's up to her same bullshit again...”
His venom-laced mutter trailed off in shock.
The note's contents.
Scribbled haphazardly as thoughts struck, but the purpose was obvious.
Everything Amelia had said to him today.
Compensation plan, future intentions, responses to refusal—detailed down to Siwoo's potential reactions.
And at the bottom, sentences crossed out with X's.
'I'll clearly apologize for tormenting you all this time.' Multiple strikes.
Below: 'Say the pigsty assignment was an administrative error, not intentional, apologize for that too, and offer compensation.' More strikes.
After endless agonizing revisions, one firmly pressed line.
'Apologize sincerely.'
No strike on the last one.
Siwoo returned the paper exactly as found, like he hadn't seen it.
“Fuck, I hate shit like this.”
His head suddenly throbbed with complexity.
Like watching a hero movie awkwardly targeted at adults.
The hero beats the villain badass-style, only for backstory dumps: villain wasn't pure evil, had reasons...
Forcing in that vague nuance to fuck with the audience's mood.
Of course, it didn't erase his anger toward Amelia.
Just unexpected.
Amelia struck him as sharper, more cutthroat.
Her public perfectionist facade reinforced it.
The image he'd seen: cold-blooded, brazen, tougher than nails.
But this note? Like an extreme introvert scripting every line and contingency for a food delivery order.
Didn't make it her get-out-of-jail-free card, though.
Her actions were deliberate torment; no scrap of paper compensated for that.
Even if genuine remorse—what did it matter?
Siwoo was the victim.
“Shouldn't you apologize first, like a normal person?”
Instead of droning about research perks or taking him as a disciple, a sincere apology upfront?
After a moment's thought, realization hit.
Amelia wasn't that dumb.
That fragile pride again.
Couldn't overcome it, hemmed and hawed around it—then Siwoo exploded first.
“Guess I'm not the bad guy.”
Even saying it left a bitter aftertaste.
Siwoo tidied the desk he'd wrecked earlier and left the room.
To see Takasho.
No idea what came next; least he could do was say goodbye to his only friend.
Grabbing another premium whiskey from Amelia's stash for drinks with Takasho, Siwoo trudged down to the lounge.
The dimly lit lounge had an eerie chill.
His eyes drifted to a corner table.
Where Amelia had randomly given him cake and smokes.
Still no clue why.
Her idea of an apology?
“Nah.”
Amelia was utterly unpredictable from start to finish.
—Knock knock knock.
A sudden knock.
Not the doorknob—just a light tap on the door itself.
What the?
Perplexed, Siwoo debated opening it.
This hour, looking for Amelia? Had to be a witch, or her guest.
Even as her ex-assistant with a shattered relationship, should he play host?
No time to dwell.
Door wasn't locked anyway, and the visitor opened it themselves.
Sharp moonlight poured through the gap.
Bathed in pale glow, stepping inside was—as expected—a woman.
“Pleased to meet you.”
The slender bob-haired woman gracefully removed her gloves with elegant poise, leaning into the moonlight as she greeted him.
Neatly combed black hair.
Blood-red, shadowy eyes slitted long like a cat's.
Yet her beauty was undiminished—like a cursed ruby gleaming brilliantly.
The kind that dooms its owner to ruin the moment it's claimed.
A shiver raced from Siwoo's nape to his toes.
No reason.
Instinct screaming warnings in his head.
“Is Baroness Merrygold inside?”
A soft, smiling witch's voice echoed low.