If I Have to Offer My Body, Can I Offer It?
Yoo Jimin's hesitation, her eyes darting away in panic, stirred no pity in Lee Dongwoo. Instead, a cold, cynical smile curved his lips.
“Hah. In the end… it was all just words, wasn’t it?”
A voice laced with mockery. He clicked his tongue in disgust.
“You were just saying that to get out of this situation, right? That’s all it was.”
“N-no! It’s true! I really am sorry!”
Yoo Jimin cried out almost like a scream, desperately making excuses to survive and escape this madman’s grasp.
“It’s just that… I’m really dumb! My memory’s bad… I forget things fast… and I couldn’t even finish what I was saying. I really am sorry…”
Her voice trailed off. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but no other excuse came to mind.
“Dumb, huh? That’s why you can’t speak?”
Lee Dongwoo looked down at her for a long moment. Not a trace of sympathy showed in his eyes.
“Then… I suppose I’ll have to do it without words.”
With a light snap of his fingers, something dropped from the air.
Clack!
A neat bundle of white A4 paper and a plain black ballpoint pen landed right in front of Yoo Jimin on the bed sheet, as if they had always been there.
“Hic?!”
Yoo Jimin let out a short scream. She stared in disbelief at the impossible scene. Was it magic? Or was she hallucinating? But the paper and pen were undeniably real—every bit as tangible as the chains binding her.
Lee Dongwoo spoke in a flat, emotionless tone, ignoring her reaction.
“From now on, write down everything you think you’re sorry for.”
His gaze swept over the paper, the pen, and Yoo Jimin’s face in turn.
“Without missing a single thing. All the memories you have. The more you write, the more I’ll consider whether to let you off nicely or not.”
The word “consider” carried a chilling promise of hope torture rather than mercy. The pristine white paper and black pen were her final chance.
“I… have to do this?”
The wrists bound by chains itched painfully. The white paper and pen in front of her felt like a death warrant. Yoo Jimin looked at Lee Dongwoo pleadingly, but his face remained completely unchanged.
Dongwoo turned without answering, plopping down on the living room sofa. He crossed his legs, rested his chin on his hand, and stared only at Yoo Jimin.
There was no urgency or anger in his gaze—only cold, ice-like observation. He had casually picked up the hammer he had placed on the floor earlier and rested it on his knee.
“Five minutes to write, right? Or do you need more? I’m being generous. I can even give you five more minutes.”
Yoo Jimin tried to answer but closed her mouth. The subtle movement of her fingers fidgeting with the hammer’s handle on his knee sent a chill down her spine. The silent pressure that the hammer could fly at her at any moment was terrifying.
In the end, she sighed and picked up the pen with trembling hands. The cold plastic touched her palm. On the white paper, she wrote the first line with great difficulty.
1. Money stolen.
That was it. The pen stopped. What else could she write? Her mind went completely blank.
What did I do to her again? I made her run errands? Buy bread, get water… That’s something friends do, right? I teased her for being ugly? Honestly, she was ugly back then! Isn’t telling the truth a crime? What am I supposed to do!
Memories of the past flashed through her mind, but they didn’t feel serious enough to apologize for. Instead, she felt unjustly treated. It seemed insane that Lee Dongwoo would do this after seven years.
Time passed relentlessly. Lee Dongwoo sat on the sofa without saying a word, watching her.
Only his regular breathing and the occasional tapping of the hammer’s head with his fingers broke the silence in the room. When five minutes passed and even the promised additional five minutes were up, he stood up.
Lee Dongwoo slowly approached her and picked up the paper on the bed. A smile escaped his lips as he checked the single line written on it.
“Puh… Is this all?”
The laughter that started low, as if mocking, gradually grew louder.
“Only ‘Money stolen’? Kkukkk… Kha hahaha!”
As if he had seen the funniest comedy in the world, he threw his head back and laughed loudly. The sound echoed in Yoo Jimin’s ears like a demon’s chuckle.
***
The laughter that burst out madly was cut off like with a knife, stopping abruptly. The air in the room turned cold again.
Lee Dongwoo looked down at Yoo Jimin with eyes full of contempt, his face completely devoid of any laughter. An icy whisper slipped from between his lips.
“Playing with me?”
His voice was low, but the killing intent inside it was not diluted at all.
“You fucking bitch?”
The curse word pierced her ear. Yoo Jimin flinched and trembled. What could she say? Her mouth wouldn’t open.
No, honestly, what did I do that was so bad? Ji Hyun or Seoyeon did much worse! They led the way in bullying, I just watched and laughed a few times! Why is this crazy guy picking on me only!
Inside, injustice and anger boiled, but she couldn’t let it out. The hammer in his hand. The fear that it might fly toward her head next moment bound her tongue.
She tried to show the most pitiful and submissive expression to escape the situation again.
“…No, Dongwoo… Honestly… That day… It was all just a joke, right? We all played like that when we were kids…”
“Joke?”
Lee Dongwoo repeated her words, savoring them. A strange smile appeared on his face again. But it was not a pleasant smile. A demonic grin that chilled the spine.
“Yeah, a joke. Right, it was a joke.”
He nodded. As if agreeing with her. But the next moment, his eyes sparkled with a sinister light.
“So… everything I do to you from now on…”
He took a step closer to Yoo Jimin. The veins bulged in his hand gripping the hammer.
“…Is a joke. Got it?”
“Hic…”
A breathy sound escaped from Yoo Jimin’s mouth. The blood in her body turned ice cold. She had never realized that the ordinary word “joke” could sound so terrifying.
His gaze, his voice, the atmosphere he emitted—all of it foretold the horrific future that awaited her.
Lee Dongwoo slowly rotated the heavy hammer in his hand. The metal’s cold shine passed over Yoo Jimin’s pale face.
One step, another step. The sound of his approaching footsteps echoed in her ears like the executioner’s. The terrifying image of the hammer falling on her head was vividly before her eyes.
No… I can’t die like this…!
In the moment death’s fear bound her body, her instinct screamed. Pride? Injustice? It was useless. She had to live. By any means.
“I was wrong! I really was wrong, Dongwoo!”
Yoo Jimin reflexively fell onto the bed. She didn’t feel the pain of the chains digging into her skin. With her forehead pressed to the floor, flattened, she started begging desperately.
“Please… Please spare my life! I… I really committed a crime against you back then! I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”
Her snot and tears soaked the bed sheet. The pretty and dignified appearance she showed on the broadcast was nowhere to be seen. Only a pitiful, desperate figure remained, having thrown everything away to survive.
“…”
Lee Dongwoo looked down at the crown of Yoo Jimin’s head lying prostrate and begging with an expressionless face. Silence fell for a moment. Then he finally spoke.
“So… sorry?”
No emotion in his voice.
“Uh, yes! Of course! I’m really sorry! Sorry to the point of death!”
Yoo Jimin answered hurriedly without lifting her head. Her voice was shaky, trying to grab onto any hope.
“Hmm…”
Lee Dongwoo thought for a moment, stroking his chin with the hand holding the hammer. Then he asked her again. His voice had dropped a tone lower than before.
“If you’re that sorry,”
He slowly bent his waist and whispered into Yoo Jimin’s ear.
“Will you offer your body if I demand it?”
“…Eh?”
The unexpected word. ‘Body.’ The moment that word pierced her ear, her tearful plea stopped. She blinked blankly, unable to muster the courage to lift her head.
Body…? What does that mean…
Her mind went completely blank, no thoughts rising. Only Lee Dongwoo’s cold breath tickled her ear, mocking her confusion.