Chapter 34: The Truth of the Prophetic Dream
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 34: The Truth of the Prophetic Dream
...
【At this moment, my heart aches so, so much.】
...
【I love you so dearly, so why did you do those things?】
...
【You’ve changed.】
...
【Therefore, I can only use my own love to purify you.】
...
【Don't worry, I have so much, much more love to give.】
...
【Accept my love.】
...
【Young Master Muen.】
...
"Haa... Haa..."
Muen jolted awake from the nightmare, gasping for air like a fish accidentally washed ashore by a wave.
"Was I... dreaming again?"
"No, that was the prophetic dream."
"The person in the dream seemed clearer this time. She looked like..."
"Who was it?"
Muen shook his head, trying desperately to remember. He felt as if he were a hair's breadth away from identifying the person who had subjected him to a death by a thousand cuts in that dream, yet the answer remained just out of reach, tantalizingly close but impossible to grasp.
"Dammit, my head hurts."
As Muen strained to think, memories began flooding back into his mind, accompanied by a sharp, throbbing pain at the base of his skull.
"Right, what happened before..."
"I remember... An tried to drug me."
"But I saw through it."
"So... she resorted to force, attacked me directly... and knocked me unconscious?"
The intense pain, coupled with the jarring sensation of returning memories, broke Muen into a cold sweat. He instinctively tried to curl his limbs and struggle.
Clang.
Accompanied by the sharp screech of metal on metal, Muen’s movement failed. Instead, it only brought a cold, biting pain to his wrists and ankles.
"This is..."
Muen looked to his side.
Cold shackles were clamped tightly around his wrists and ankles, severely restricting his range of motion. He was forced into a spread-eagle position, pinned like Jesus on the cross.
Fortunately, his captor had shown a final shred of mercy; Muen was positioned so he could sit fully on the ground, preventing the imprisonment from becoming a constant physical torment.
"But imprisonment itself is the punishment, damn it!"
Muen yanked at the shackles, shouting in a rage:
"Who did this? Let me go! Do you have any idea who I am?!"
"Oh my, Young Master, you're awake."
A familiar voice rang out in front of him.
"Seeing you still so full of energy really puts my mind at ease."
"You... An?"
Muen looked up. He saw An, still dressed in her maid uniform, her expression as poised and dignified as ever. In an instant, the bitterness of betrayal and the fury of being caged rushed to his head, making his struggles even more violent.
"Why are you doing this, An?!"
"Why did you betray me? Why have you locked me up?"
"Who manipulated you? Or were you a mole planted in the Duke’s house from the very beginning?!"
"Betrayal? Manipulation? A mole?"
An looked at Muen, a hint of confusion flickering in the depths of her eyes.
"What are you saying, Young Master Muen? How could I ever betray you? I am your loyal personal maid."
"Bullshit! Does a loyal maid knock her master out and chain him up?"
"Didn't I say it before? There was no other way. If only you hadn't been so clever, Young Master, and had just obediently drunk the black tea, you wouldn't have had to suffer so much."
"And then I would've been drugged and imprisoned anyway?" Muen sneered.
"Well, the outcome would have been roughly the same. But your guesses—betrayal, manipulation, being a mole—none of that is true. I have always, always been the Young Master's personal maid. Ever since I came to your side ten years ago when you were eight, it has been this way. I exist solely for the Young Master's sake."
"Then why?!"
"Ah, you've forgotten. The words I said not long ago."
"What words?"
"What I said right before I knocked you out..."
An suddenly knelt before Muen. Her soft, delicate body leaned in to embrace him intimately. A faint floral scent enveloped him, and the exquisite sensation of her touch caused Muen to lose himself for a split second.
An leaned close to Muen’s ear, her breath like orchids as she whispered:
"I said... everything I do is to bring the Young Master back onto the right track."
"What... right track?"
"Naturally, it's..."
Slurp.
An suddenly flicked her tongue out and licked Muen’s cheek.
The sudden, wet sensation made Muen instinctively try to recoil, but with his limbs shackled and his back against the corner, where could he possibly run?
"Naturally, it's the track where you, Young Master, belong to me—forever, completely, inside and out, from head to toe, from flesh to soul, every strand of hair, every drop of blood, and every scent..." An’s dignified face flushed crimson as she spoke in a soft voice, like a shy maiden confessing to her beloved.
However, the meaning behind her words was anything but sweet.
"What—"
Muen’s mind went blank.
His brain had been subjected to so much stimulation in these few short minutes that it had effectively crashed, unable to process the situation.
Just then, that faint floral scent wafted into Muen’s nose again, stinging his nerves and forcing him back to alertness.
But Muen wished he hadn't cleared his head.
Because he remembered this scent.
"Why didn't I realize it sooner?"
In that prophetic dream, the identity of the killer who wanted to cut him into a thousand pieces had been blurred—both her voice and her face—for some unknown reason.
Except for one thing that never changed.
The mysterious floral scent that always lingered around her, its source unknown.
And that floral scent was identical to the fragrance currently radiating from An’s body.
At that thought, Muen couldn't help but slowly turn his head to look at An, who was inches away.
An, who had always presented a dignified image, was now clinging to Muen, greedily inhaling his scent. Every so often, she would lick his cheek or neck, showing a look of pure satisfaction as if she were tasting a gourmet delicacy.
The sickly, feverish flush on her face hadn't faded since it appeared!
And only now did Muen finally perceive the emotion hidden deep within An’s eyes—an emotion she could no longer suppress, leaking out despite herself.
It was a possessiveness as deep and dark as the abyss... one that could utterly consume a person!
"So... that's how it is?"
"The truth behind the Black Book's prophetic dream."
"An, my personal maid who stays with me day and night... is actually a yandere?"
Once all the pieces clicked into place, Muen felt his teeth begin to chatter.
True, plenty of people enjoyed reading about yandere plots in novels or anime, but enjoying the trope and actually being targeted by one were two very different concepts.
Especially a high-tier yandere who would knock you out and imprison you at the drop of a hat—that was a genuine threat to one's life! Brother Seiji’s head was still watching from the heavens, for God's sake!
"Wait, this is wrong! This is all wrong!"
"Normally, shouldn't this kind of yandere plot happen to the protagonist?"
"I'm just a lowly yellow-haired villain! What did I do to deserve this?"
"Where's the protagonist? Where is she? Someone come save me!"