Chapter 23
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 23
My heart pounded. My spirits were higher than they’d been at any point since my confinement began. A wave of joy surged through me, an endless upward curve that pulled the corners of my mouth into a massive grin.
“Sex! Fucking sex!”
Words of pure elation spilled from my open mouth.
“Ah, ah…”
Tears pricked my eyes. I raised my hands to cover my face. I had to calm down. There was no time for this. I had no idea how long she would be out, so I had to get a grip and find a way out of here as fast as possible.
Dokyun looked at the two keys resting in his palm.
First, the key with the diamond-shaped handle. This was the key to the collar cinched around my neck. I had seen her take it out when she locked it on me, so there was no doubt.
And the other key. Its handle was shaped like a clover, with three overlapping circles.
What the hell is this key for?
In my haste to steal the keys, I had just grabbed whatever I could, but I had no idea what this one was used for.
One thing was certain: it wasn't the key to the handcuffs, nor was it for the lock chaining me to the kitchen table.
“Hmm…”
Thinking by process of elimination, this key was either for another restraint she hadn't used on me yet, or it was the key to one of the rooms in this house.
Dokyun shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
I’ll set this aside for now.
First, I had to get this collar off my neck.
His mind made up, Dokyun took the diamond-shaped key, brought it to his neck, and inserted it into the padlock securing the collar. He turned it to the right.
Click!
With a small, metallic sound, the padlock fell away, and the collar that had been wrapped around Dokyun’s neck came loose.
Dokyun gently rubbed his freed neck.
“Whoa…”
It felt strange. It wasn’t as if I’d been wearing the collar the entire time I was here, and my hands were still cuffed, but the thought that one of my restraints was gone sent an unfamiliar sensation through my entire body.
I took a step. I hadn’t taken a single step of my own volition this whole time, so every footfall on the floor was a novel joy that set my heart ablaze.
It was such a simple thing, to walk by my own will, something so utterly taken for granted, yet a profound sense of gratitude poured out from deep within me. A turbulent mix of emotions surged up again, threatening to swallow me whole.
Ah… I need to get a grip.
I was getting too sentimental. I had to find out something, anything, about this house before she came back.
Dokyun slowly walked around the living room, taking it all in. The front door, with its lock installed in reverse so you had to enter a code from the inside to leave. The window to the veranda, wrapped in electrical tape to block the view outside.
The front door was a lost cause. The window was my only bet. Dokyun quickly walked toward it. Reaching it, he stretched out a hand and ran it across the glass.
…Was it taped from the outside?
I wanted to peel off the tape and see the scenery outside, but my fingers couldn't find an edge. It seemed to have been applied from the exterior.
Clank!
I put some force into my hand and tried to slide the window open, but it wouldn’t budge, blocked by a hinge screwed into the frame.
I expected as much…
A bitter taste filled my mouth. The easiest paths were all blocked. It seemed I wouldn’t be escaping today. I hadn’t thought it would be easy, but there was nothing I could do about the bitterness that came when my worries became reality.
Feeling his body sag with the sudden wave of disappointment, Dokyun slapped his cheeks to shake off the gloomy thoughts. He collected himself and began to search the house again.
The next place to check.
Dokyun’s gaze turned to the space beside the living room sofa. A hallway that turned inward. The direction of her workshop, a place I had yet to see.
Escape was still a distant dream. In that case, I needed to find a clue. Something like the passcode for the front door she had just entered.
Eight digits.
The first thing that came to mind was a birthdate. People usually set passwords with numbers that are deeply ingrained in their minds or easy to recall. The problem was, whose birthday? I didn’t even know how old she was or what day she was born.
My brow furrowed on its own, and a grumble escaped my lips.
“What a headache…”
There was too much to find out, and far too little time to learn it all.
First, I need to find a photo frame, a notebook.
Things that could be definite clues. I had to find them. The most likely place they would be was her workshop. I had to search it.
His mind made up, Dokyun moved toward the hallway that had, until now, been outside his line of sight. It was a structure that bent behind the living room. As he entered the hallway, Dokyun scanned the scene before him.
Three.
There were three doors in the hallway. Her workshop had to be one of them.
First, he approached the door on the far right. He grabbed the handle and tried to turn it.
Rattle!
Locked…
The door wouldn’t open. Wondering if the key I was holding might be for this room, I tried to insert it into the lock, but the shape was wrong. It wouldn’t go in. This door was impossible to open right now.
Next, he turned and opened the door directly behind him.
Click!
The door opened with the clear sound of a latch releasing. Unlike the previous one, this door wasn't locked. As it slowly swung open, Dokyun felt a surge of tension at the thought of opening a new space he had never seen before. He pushed the door fully open and looked inside.
A closet?
It was a small room, similar in size to the one where I first woke up and where I still slept. The room was filled with clothes, lining wardrobes that stretched along both walls. As he scanned the room, Dokyun mulled over an unrelated thought.
She must be loaded.
I had expected the house to be large, but to use an entire room as a walk-in closet filled with clothes, she had to be seriously rich. Dokyun stepped inside and scanned the clothes, occasionally lifting a garment to check if anything was hidden behind it.
Nothing special here.
All I could tell was that every single piece of clothing looked ridiculously expensive. The texture of the fabric against my hand, the design of each item—they all looked like something you’d see in a high-end luxury boutique. Looking at them, Dokyun felt another surge of anger.
Fuck… She’s this rich.
Why the hell did she kidnap me? If she had just shown up with a wad of cash and asked me to marry her, I would have answered with a bow of profound gratitude. If she’d told me to live as her footstool for the rest of my life, I would have accepted with a grand bow.
“Fucking bitch.”
She has no idea how much I love money. My life’s dream is to lavish money on my own special little novel. Couldn’t she have thought it through a little more and approached me with some care?
“Hoo…”
In the midst of his tirade, a sigh escaped his lips. Then again, if she were capable of that, she wouldn't be a psychopath. Forcibly suppressing his anger, Dokyun finished checking the room. Concluding there was nothing more to be gained here, he left.
Stepping out of the room, Dokyun’s head turned to the left. There was still one room he hadn't checked. Since this one was a dressing room, the workshop had to be either the locked room from before or this last one. Dokyun walked to the innermost room and grabbed the handle.
Rattle!
Locked, as expected. Dokyun once again took out the key and tried it in the lock. The key slid smoothly into the keyhole.
It fits, at least.
He could feel his palms getting sweaty. Dokyun took a deep breath, then turned the key to the left.
Clack!
It opened!
The door was unlocked. His heart pounded wildly in his chest. Since this door had been locked, there had to be something inside that could be used as a clue.
Hoping desperately that there was something, anything, inside, Dokyun turned the doorknob and entered the room.
It’s dark…
The lights were off. He fumbled along the wall with his hand, searching for the light switch. Soon, his fingers brushed against something. Feeling a protruding switch, he pressed it firmly.
FLASH—!
Shit! My eyes!
A sudden flood of light assaulted his retinas. Dokyun squeezed his eyes shut, slowly pushing away the stinging pain, then lifted his eyelids and gradually brought the room into focus.
Once his vision cleared, a room larger than his bedroom and the dressing room combined came into view.
A study?
Before him was a library, its walls lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed tightly with books. Dokyun took a step forward, his eyes scanning the titles on the shelves.
Why are there so many different kinds of books?
The library held countless books spanning all genres and eras, from humanities, social sciences, and philosophy to fantasy and martial arts. There were famous books he recognized and strange ones he’d never even heard of.
The sight was so overwhelming that for a moment, he forgot he was a captive.
If it’s here…
With this many books, there had to be a clue somewhere among them. With that thought, Dokyun moved to the far end of the library and began to slowly examine the books one by one.
As he pulled out books here and there to skim through them for clues, Dokyun noticed a commonality among all the ones he had checked so far.
…They’ve been read.
Every book Dokyun inspected showed signs of having been read from cover to cover at least once. Some of them were clearly well-loved, their pages worn from frequent handling.
Probably the ones I haven’t checked, too.
It meant that the hundreds of books in this library weren't just for decoration; they had all been read.
At that thought, Dokyun couldn't help but be impressed.
“This is dizzying.”
He didn't know if it was the woman, her parents, or someone else who had read all these, but whoever it was must have been a true book fanatic, to a sickening degree.
He shook his head. Shaking off his awe, Dokyun turned back and resumed his search of the shelves.
It was then.
“Huh.”
A very familiar, welcome book caught his eye. Without thinking, Dokyun’s hand reached out and pulled it from the shelf.
[The Rusty Sword and the Hummingbird’s Tomb]
It was a fantasy novel that had come out well over a decade ago. It was the novel that had first gotten Dokyun into the genre.
With its elegant prose, lyrical story, and just the right amount of epic fantasy hype, the book had completely captivated him. Looking at the cover, Dokyun felt a sudden wave of nostalgia.
“Wow, seeing this here is a real treat.”
Dokyun ran his hand over the cover, and overcome with nostalgia, he opened the book and skimmed its contents. The pages were particularly worn, making them turn with a pleasant smoothness.
She must have read this a ton.
It was, admittedly, considered a masterpiece of the fantasy genre. Even he had read it cover-to-cover more than five times. Lost in his thoughts for a moment, Dokyun remembered his purpose for being here and was about to put the book back to check the next one.
Just then, a faded notebook, hidden behind the book, caught his eye.
“…?”
It was clearly hidden. Wondering if he had finally found a real clue, Dokyun hastily reached out, grabbed the notebook, and examined its cover.
A diary?
It was a notebook with the word ‘Diary’ written in large letters in the top right corner. The pink cover, decorated with a unicorn and a fairy-tale princess, was yellowed with age, the characters stained and mottled.
A bicorn and a non-virgin.
The diary probably belonged to her. She was the only one in this house, and it was obviously a notebook a young girl would use, so that seemed like the right conclusion.
Dokyun stared at the cover for a moment before opening the notebook to check its contents.
Please let there be something…!
The first page of the diary. As Dokyun read the entry, written in crooked, uneven letters, his expression began to twist.
The first sentence of the opened diary carried a deeply unsettling echo.
[I am a bad child.]