content warning: nsfw
I had a dream. Beating down upon the top of my head was the radiant South American sun, with unfamiliar faces whisking me away in their midst, pulling me to-and-fro. The foreign languages sounded sweet to my ears, and the tropical forests were a mystical sight to behold. Yet, even in my dreams, even on foreign soil, I couldn’t help but glance behind me as I walked. Unable to keep my eyes forward, I often tripped and fell. As I lay there on the ground, I noticed a pair of familiar shoes standing before me. Carefully, the owner of those shoes lifts me up, and the moment our gazes meet, my eyes widen. At the same time, I jolted awake, hastily scanning my surroundings. The scene before me looked familiar. It was neither my hotel room in Argentina, my hostel in Chile, nor my cabin in Brazil.
At the sound of a clang, I glanced down at my wrist, where I found a thin handcuff secured around it. It was nestled above a layer of fabric that neatly covered my wrist, linking to a metal chain. My shoulders ached from sleeping in an awkward position, and I struggled to get up. Fortunately, however, my ankles were free, allowing me to leave the bed.
Sunlight gently filtered through the thin curtains, which I had risen to pull back, unveiling the view beyond. As expected, it was a familiar sight. In the distance lay a flowing river, with various types of cars speeding across the bridge above it in steady streams. The blue river shimmered beneath the sunlight. Towering buildings flanked the sides of the river, with people the size of sesame seeds bustling in and out of them.
Though this place was insulated from exterior noise, a rhythmic thumping managed to penetrate through the slight gap in the open door. I opened the door and went out to the living room, only to find no one there. So, I directed my footsteps towards the source of the noise—the kitchen—where someone stood with their back facing me. Clad in a white short-sleeved t-shirt, the fine muscles of their back moved in a rhythmic pattern beneath it. Even the back of the person chopping the onions looked familiar. They must have been blinking quite a bit. To seem like they weren’t crying.
Slowly, I walked over and rested my chin on their shoulder. If I had to be honest, though, I was thirsty for a glass of water, but I couldn’t forget what I had to do first. Haekyung stopped cutting. Then, he placed the knife in the cupboard and locked it. Haekyung turned around, gazing into my eyes as he said, “You’re up early.”
“I had a dream.”
“Another one?”
“You were in it.”
“…It must’ve been a good dream.”
“Yeah. Haekyung-ah, my wrist hurts.”
“Really?”
“Undo this for me, please?” I said, pressing my lips to his ear and jaw, but Haekyung seemed to have no intention of complying.
“I already told you not to come into the kitchen. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”
When I showed no signs of moving, Haekyung wrapped his arms around my shoulders and led me to the living room, where he settled me onto the couch. He switched on the television, tuning it to an entertainment programme we often watched together. Then, he returned to the kitchen and reemerged moments later with a bottle of water, placing it in my hand. After about twenty minutes, just as the commercial break was about to start, Haekyung beckoned me over. The fried rice laid out on the table looked rather appetising. Pulling out a chair, Haekyung invited, “Come sit.”
I didn’t sit. Instead, I lifted my plate. Looking straight at Jung Haekyung, I poured the fried rice onto the floor. The colourful array of minced vegetables and oily, tender rice scattered across the pristine surface. Seating myself on the ground, I began to devour the fried rice with my mouth.
“Euijin-ah.”
Upon hearing Haekyung’s call, I lifted my head, and our gazes intertwined. I scooped up the fried rice with my tongue and ate it.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Xfa eq.”
P fzafcvfv ws kglra, atf wfaji milcxlcu. “P atbeuta atlr atlcu wfjca atja P kjr reqqbrfv ab fja ilxf atlr?”
Ljfxsecu vlvc’a gfqis. P gfqfjafv, “Ljfxsecu-jt, qifjrf?”
Ljfxsecu’r ujhf ilcufgfv bc wf obg j yla yfobgf tf gfaglfnfv j xfs ogbw tlr qbmxfa, rfaalcu la vbkc bc atf vlclcu ajyif. P rqgecu eq jcv vbmlifis rja bc atf mtjlg. Qtfc Aecu Ljfxsecu xcbmxfv bc atf ajyif aklmf jr j rluc bo qfgwlrrlbc, P tjrafcfv ab ugjy atf xfs jcv ogff wsrfio ogbw atf tjcvmeoor. Cr Aecu Ljfxsecu wjvf tlr kjs ab atf xlamtfc, qijaf lc tjcv, qgfrewjyis obg j gfolii bo oglfv glmf, P gfjmtfv obg j rlvf vlrt qijaf jcv ragemx la tjgv jujlcra atf ajyif, ygfjxlcu la. Ktbeut atf jmaeji uijrr jcv qbgmfijlc qijafr tjv jii yea njclrtfv, aglajc mbeiv wjxf obg j nfgs rtjgq fvuf lo sbe ygfjx la gluta.
As I gripped the broken plastic in my hand and approached him, Jung Haekyung lifted an eyebrow. Regardless of his reaction, I aimed to thrust the plastic shard into his eye. Sometimes I succeeded, and sometimes I failed. The attempt was up to me, but the result was up to Jung Haekyung. Today, I failed to stab him in the eye. The broken piece of plastic melted just before reaching his lashes.
“Ah, shit.” My finger turned a little red from the heat of the melted plastic. I asked Jung Haekyung, “Didn’t you say you hate seeing me in pain?”
Haekyung didn’t reply. So, I repeated my question, “Didn’t you say you hate seeing me in pain?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“If you don’t want me to see me in pain, maybe you should be the one getting hurt instead. Is this truly the extent of your love?”
“Stop it already.”
“Stop? You think you have the right to say that?”
I laughed out loud. Haekyung turned around, perhaps in an attempt to scoop the fried rice again. I dragged a chair from the dining table over. Then, with all the strength I could possibly muster, I lifted it into the air and slammed it hard against Jung Haekyung’s head. The chair, crafted from sturdy wood, broke into several pieces, but Jung Haekyung remained unmoving. He probably didn’t even furrow a brow. Anyway, it didn’t matter.
I grabbed one of the chair’s broken legs and used it to hit the cupboard. Bang, bang, bang! I struck it hard, using all of my strength. The place where he stored the knife varied from day to day, so the places I struck varied as well. Soon, the cupboard door broke. I shoved my hand through the splintered gap and pulled out the kitchen knife.
“Yeah, you’ll live forever. Forever in that state.”
I tried to stab the knife into my throat, but as always, the blade bent in a strange direction before shattering into pieces, its shards clinking as they fell to the ground. I fell to the floor, attempting to chew and swallow the shards of the blade at the very least. Haekyung threw the frying pan, with its contents and everything, onto the floor. Rice and vegetables were scattered about, turning the kitchen into a mess. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I was the one who was going to have to clean it anyway.
Sifting through the mess of fried rice, I snagged a piece of the blade, but Haekyung pried my fingers apart before I could manage to swallow it. Once more, he snatched the blade from my hand, his eyes finally taking on a murderous glint. With each passing day, it grew stronger, more potent, like the wound on his forehead that never healed. The tip of the blade began to boil, molten iron dripping onto the floor. The muggy smell of searing protein dominated the kitchen as Jung Haekyung’s finger seemed on the verge of melting off. However, it was quick to regenerate, with new flesh wriggling to break through as the old melted away.
I approached Haekyung, standing close enough for our lips to almost touch. Then, I whispered into his ear, my cheek brushing past his, “Monster.”
The round ceiling light shattered with a loud boom! Shards of glass rained down upon us in the darkened kitchen. I felt a sting in my neck, head, and cheek, where the glass had embedded itself. When I stroked my cheek, my palm came away smeared with blood. A little more—just a little more.
However, Jung Haekyung simply rose without a word and left the kitchen, only to return with a pair of slippers in hand. He slipped them onto my bare feet and pulled me up, leading me over to the bathroom. He washed the shards dusting my hair away with the showerhead, dried my body with a large towel, and applied ointment to my wounds. His hands were meticulous in their application, but that didn’t deter me from slapping them away.
“Hurting me, then healing me—you just don’t know when to stop, do you?”
“Stay still.”
“What did I expect? You’ve always been like this. I can always feel the love in your pathetic grace.”
Haekyung picked up the ointment, which had fallen onto the bathroom floor, but I gripped his hand, causing it to spill again. Drops of it fell to the ground. Swiping them up with my hand, I spread them on my cheek and asked, “Hm? I love you, Haekyung-ah. But tell me, where is it that you feel my love?”
Jung Haekyung stared into my eyes, my reflection against the lustrous sheen of his brown iris. He answered, “Simply from the fact that it’s you. So, behave yourself.”
“And what will you do if I don’t behave myself?”
“Euijin-ah.”
“I asked what’d you do, you son of a bitch.”
“Euijin-ah.”
“Oh, wait, am I the son of a bitch in this scenario?”
Arf, arf! I barked as I dropped to all fours, crawling around the damp bathroom floor, shaking the water droplets from my wet hair. When Jung Haekyung reached to touch me with his hand, I bared my teeth and growled at him. Nevertheless, he held me up.
I tore at his neck with my teeth, intent on stopping his breath. Torn flesh entered my mouth, and red blood trickled down his shoulder. The metallic scent of blood filled my mouth. Jung Haekyung could have reinforced his body like iron, but he didn’t. Why? Was he worried my teeth would break? I hated it most when Haekyung acted this way. Every time he feigned care for me, pretended to cherish me, it sent goosebumps rising along my entire body, fueling my desire to kill him even more.
Jung Haekyung suppressed even his instinctual urge to heal himself. Blood continued to trickle from Haekyung’s neck, where the flesh had been torn away. The crazy bastard acted like this every time I whispered the word “monster” to him. He was basically the same as a monster anyway, so I hadn’t a clue why he acted that way. Anyhow, I couldn’t understand Jung Haekyung. Ptooey, I spat out the flesh in my mouth and silently prayed. I hope this becomes a habit, Haekyung-ah.
Jung Haekyung returned to the room and seated me on the bed. He rummaged through the drawer and retrieved a pair of handcuffs, securing them around my wrists once more. He didn’t forget that pathetic grace of his either, wrapping my wrists with a soft cloth. However, this time, he cuffed my arms behind my back, making it even more uncomfortable than before. Jung Haekyung also fastened a shackle around my ankle, connecting it to the bedpost. I looked up at him, as pitifully as possible.
“Haekyung-ah, I love you.”
“I love you too, Euijin-ah,” replied Jung Haekyung, but I could see his hand pulling a gag from the drawer. My love for him was genuine, but my words had long lost their sway, irrespective of their sincerity. I found it both regrettable and joyful—regrettable that I had to wear a gag, my wrists bound behind me, and joyful that the word “love” had lost its meaning. I shuffled back and said, “Haekyung-ah, we won’t be able to kiss if you put that on. Hm?”
“You’re right. Then, let’s kiss first.”
The iron chain attached to my ankles was too short, hindering me from retreating any further. Jung Haekyung climbed on top of me and pressed his lips to mine, his tongue darting in the second I opened my mouth. I bit down hard on his tongue, but he refused to part, the taste of blood only intensifying. Yet, it was different from before; it wasn’t tender to the point of cruelty. The tongue ravaging my mouth was violent and aggressive. Yes, our encounters should’ve been like this from the very start.
Shortly after, Jung Haekyung forced me onto my stomach and raised my hips. I tried my hardest, contorting my body in an attempt to wriggle free from beneath him, even if it meant I had to crawl. However, with my hands and feet bound, the more I struggled, the more pain I felt. I could offer no other form of resistance, merely writhing as I heard the clang of metal against metal echoing around me. Jung Haekyung whispered in my ear, “You don’t want to?”
I answered, “I don’t want to.”
“Okay.”
Jung Haekyung tried to gag me again. I wanted to be gagged even less. I spoke again, “No, let’s do it. But I don’t want to be gagged.”
“Then, how about a muzzle?”
As I vehemently shook my head, a soft, black, rubbery sphere was forced into my mouth. Fucking bitch, that didn’t mean I thought the gag was any better. Now, even when I told him I wanted to do it, he refused to uncuff me. I shook my head and body, my words slurred as I tried to speak.
“I love you, Haekyung-ah, it hurts, Haekyung-ah. I…”
However, the gag was soon secured behind my head, leaving me unable to even slur my words. Still, I continued to speak.
I told you I don’t like being in pain. Hm? I knew it, those were just empty words, weren’t they? Fucking bastard. Perverted son of a bitch who derives pleasure from raping me while keeping me tied up. This isn’t love, Haekyung-ah, you asked me what love was. You said you loved me. So, please, let me go. It hurts, Haekyung-ah, I love you, Haekyung-ah.
However, not a single complete word was formed. The words I spat out came only as muffled groans, their echoes filling the room. Soon, I felt the sensation of wet lube being applied to my ass, as well as the rip of a condom wrapper being torn open.
Haekyung-ah, just because you use condoms and lube doesn’t mean this isn’t rape.
Once again, I attempted to speak, but only saliva, unable to be swallowed, trickled down my lips and chin, my words stifled. Soon, Jung Haekyung’s cock pushed inside me. A tingling sensation shot through my tailbone and travelled up my spine—a physiological response. At some point, I disliked this sensation so much that I even rationalised that if I were to bite down on a pen, saliva would still escape. But it was also true that there was a separate kind of pleasure.
Haekyung-ah, if you think this is sex, then so be it. If you think this is a romance, then so be it. If you think this is love, then so be it. Even if it saddens me, I, too, feel love for you. Even if this can no longer be called love, let’s just say it is. But, until the very end, I will never forgive you.
However, it is I who should be begging for forgiveness. Eight hours later, when he removes the gag, I must beg and tell him I was wrong, that I won’t do it again, and obediently suck his cock without using my teeth. Because if I don’t, he’ll force me to eat again, all while keeping me bound, and that would be a pain. I felt a little hopeless, as it seemed he was no longer willing to undo my restraints, even if I cried while sucking his cock, but that’s okay. Today wasn’t a success either, but that’s okay. I can just start over from the beginning.
Haekyung-ah, you make a pathetic fool out of me. Whatever I do, it’ll never amount to anything more than an ant bite to you, so it hardly matters anyway. No, maybe it’ll be even more fun than before? My chest swells with pride, knowing I’ve made things fun for you. But still, you’ll tire of it all one day. Until then, I’ll just have to keep starting over from the beginning, again and again.
All this time, I’ve been trying to suppress and bury the unpleasant memories and negative emotions. I tried not to think about it. But now, I find myself constantly revisiting and repeating them. I tried not to forget any memories. I tried not to lose any more of myself than I already have, having nearly lost every part of who I am. No one begged for my forgiveness, but until the very end, I tried not to forgive anyone.
Until the day this unfair romance comes to an end. Until only traces of this romance were left.
orcinus comments:
While this may not be the most intense novel I’ve read, I don’t think I’ll ever translate something like this again haha. If you want to read something a little lighter but still very good, be sure to check out the author’s other novel, which was my first project, so the translation might be a little amateur. I’ll be back with the last extra when I can 
High-key regret reading this to the end but thanks for translating
You COULDNT have said it better my friend LMAO
Man that’s such a unsatisfying ending fuck that rapist bitch ass
I love your translation though pookie
love you too pookie thanks for sticking till the end despite the presence of jung h*ekyung (he deserves to have his name censored)
Wow I feel sick😭
I so regret starting this. NEVER again.
Thank you for translating..! I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to write all this twisted stuff T__T ) Thank you for your hard work o7
Love the ending tho, mc refuse to yield haha
Most of the later chapters i though that the only HE will be if MC suicides to run from this…
His POV actually made me realize that the opposite can work as well 😜
Actually, only now do i kinda understand how the author counts this as HE –
I think it’s not about the fact that they’re both alive, but more like they refused to give in to the other on their own assumed feelings.
Don’t get me wrong though – MC defiantly lost his mind, but I don’t think it would’ve been realistic to expect the opposite at this point.
On a different note, this epilogue is actually intriguing me more than the whole story till now.
Like, at this moment each of their stances about the relationship can be understood by the other, and from that they can finally work out how to properly get together / break up without the emotional abuse that they both are going through!
Don’t know why, but i still kinda prefer them to get together… Maybe it’s my own masochistic side 😂
Just a few to many times I ask myself why I torture myself reading heartbreaking novels like this one (´-ι_-｀) though thank you for your hard work on translating boo