When I was locked alone in the basement, I wanted to see Joo Seunghyuk.

Finding out he’d been obsessed with me for seven years shocked me—and it made me feel sorry. Just as my aunt had once hurt me in my previous life, I realized I had hurt him too. That guilt stayed with me. And since he was the only person I could rely on in that enclosed space, I clung to him all the more.

I guess that lingering attachment is still affecting me. That must be why I had those thoughts just now.

Right... that’s all it is.

Lee Yeonsu, pull yourself together. Feeling guilty and choosing to stay by his side are two entirely separate things.

And if I think about it calmly—nothing has actually changed.

Seunghyuk is still hiding something from me. I’d assumed it was a marriage to the daughter of Lexington Pharmaceuticals, but apparently not. Then what is it? What had Park Geonwoo been trying to tell me?

And who was behind the car crash that nearly killed Park Geonwoo?

The questions I had before running away remain unanswered. On top of that, I’m still being held prisoner.

Just because Seunghyuk hasn’t abused me physically the way he did in the original novel doesn’t mean I can relax.

Unlike Kim Jun in Swamp of the Guide, I never provoked him. Since the moment I was confined, I haven’t made a single attempt to escape. Maybe that’s the only reason he’s “going easy” on me. It’s not that he’s being especially kind.

Even in the original story, when Seunghyuk locked Kim Jun in the basement, he was relatively gentle—until Jun flipped the food tray and started screaming curses.

I might’ve moved from a sunless basement to a beautiful room with an ocean view, but that doesn’t mean my situation has improved. If anything, it’s worse.

I have no idea where this place is. I don’t know what country we’re in, whether it’s an island, a seaside town, or some remote, uninhabited place. I don’t even know how many floors this building has—let alone which one I’m on.

If Seunghyuk wanted to erase me from society, he could do it instantly. Sure, for now, he’s told my parents that we’re “together,” but that doesn’t mean anything.

He could just say I disappeared abroad—or drowned—and lock me away in some unknown location.

And he’s the kind of person who could do that.

To think I was okay with all this... To think I considered staying here as if that was fine...

I need to snap out of it.

I sat down at the desk without thinking. After being confined and physically entangled with Seunghyuk for five straight days, my mind must’ve gone numb.

Reading again, getting up and moving around—doing ordinary things would help me recover.

I have to leave him. Nothing will change.

Seunghyuk might keep me here forever. Even if he’s rejected political marriage and claims he’s been obsessed with me for seven [N O V E L I G H T] years, that’s no reason to stay. If anything, it’s all the more reason to go. He’s not someone I can handle. I can’t let the comfort he provides make me forget that.

I have to leave. It’s the right thing to do.

I kept repeating the words to myself, trying to burn them into my brain—when I suddenly heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Hyung.”

There was only one person who could enter this room and call me that.

“Seunghyuk...”

I instinctively smiled at him. I had to, just in case he could somehow read what I’d just been thinking.

“What were you doing?”

“Ah... I was just, uh, planning to read. Oh—no! I mean, I was looking for you.”

But the moment I resolved to leave him, I slipped up. I tried to hide my panic as I watched his reaction.

To my surprise, Seunghyuk only smiled softly and patted my head.

“You were looking for me and also planning to read?”

“Yeah! Yeah. That’s right.”

“Let’s eat first, then read.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

Ever since I arrived here, Seunghyuk had always brought the meals himself. Not only did he never withhold food—he even brought me snacks without fail.

Today’s meal was another feast. Doenjang stew, braised short ribs, pumpkin jeon, simmered radish, salad, kimchi, grilled jumbo shrimp... One meal a day was always a full traditional Korean spread.

I don’t think I’ve ever eaten three full meals a day like this, in either of my lives. It wasn’t just the variety—the presentation and dishes were gorgeous too. So much care went into it that it felt almost wrong to eat it.

“It looks amazing.”

“Eat as much as you want.”

“Thanks. But... isn’t it a lot of work to make Korean food every day?”

“It’s fine. As long as hyung enjoys it.”

“Still... getting ingredients overseas must be hard. And the cookware might be different, right?”

“Don’t worry. Everything we need is here. We even have a gamasot.”

“A gamasot?”

I hadn’t left the room, but I could guess what the rest of the villa looked like based on the decor. It was extravagant—European, almost Baroque in style. A traditional Korean iron cauldron felt completely out of place.

“Yeah. There are a lot of Koreans here.”

“There are?”

“Yeah. Most of the staff are Korean.”

I’d suspected there were other people here. Clearly, someone had to be doing the cooking. Still, given Seunghyuk’s personality, I hadn’t expected many staff members. But maybe I’d been wrong.

“Did you bring them from the main estate?”

“No. I heard they were hired locally.”

“You heard?”

So he didn’t hire them himself? That would make sense—this place didn’t exactly scream ‘Seunghyuk’s taste.’

Maybe it was a villa managed by Chairman Joo or the Seonghan Group.

And if they were hired locally, that meant we were probably in an area with a large Korean population. Maybe a tourist destination. In any case, this didn’t seem like an uninhabited island.

That was a relief. If it were an island, there’d be no way out no matter what I decided.

“Is there a Korean town nearby?”

“You’re curious about that?”

His voice was gentle, but his eyes went cold. That switch had flipped again—he was suspicious.

I’d pushed too far. I should’ve stopped once I confirmed it wasn’t a deserted island, but I got greedy and asked too much.

“Yeah... I was wondering if there were any Korean snacks. I kind of want something sweet.”

I made up an excuse on the spot. Hopefully, it was believable enough.

“What kind of snacks?”

“Uh... Shrimp Roll-Roll and Choco-Ring.”

I named a couple of my usual favorites. Seunghyuk’s lips curved into a warm smile.

“Okay. But let’s eat first. Snacks later.”

He peeled a shrimp and brought it to my mouth. It was perfectly cooked—melted the moment it touched my tongue.

“Thanks. It’s really good.”

“Eat a lot.”

He peeled another one.

“I can do it—”

“No. The shells are sharp. It’s dangerous.”

It’s not like it’s a crab shell. How sharp can shrimp shells really be?

“I’ll be fine.”

“No. You’ll hurt yourself.”

He insisted on peeling the shrimp and feeding me. It was borderline overprotective.

“Seunghyuk, you should eat too.”

“I will.”

But he made no move to eat. Just like yesterday—he piled all the best food on my plate and barely touched anything himself.

I couldn’t let him do that again.

“Let me peel one for you—ah!”

In my rush, I accidentally knocked over a glass beside me. A clear crystal cup hit the floor and shattered.

Even at a glance, it looked expensive. I gasped and bent down to clean it, but Seunghyuk grabbed my wrist, his expression tight.

“What are you doing?!”

“Sorry. That must’ve been expensive, right? I’ll—”

Before I could finish, he scooped me up and gently placed me on the bed.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I... I’m fine.”

“You can’t touch broken glass like that. It’s dangerous.”

“But I broke it...”

“Don’t do that again. Let me handle things like this.”

“...Okay.”

I could have cleaned up a broken cup on my own. But Seunghyuk genuinely seemed alarmed, so I gave a small nod.

“Just wait here for a second.”

He picked up the shattered glass himself. Then he went into the bathroom and returned with a wet towel.

“You’re really okay?”

He checked my hands again.

“Yeah. I didn’t even touch the shards. You stopped me too fast.”

Thanks to him, I hadn’t touched a single piece. He examined my hands thoroughly, then gently wiped them clean with the wet towel.

Maybe he didn’t like that the same hands peeling shrimp had touched me. He carefully wiped my shoulders and legs—anywhere he’d laid a hand earlier.

“I’m fine...”

“What if you ran away because I got you dirty?”

“...!”

My heart sank. Why would he say that all of a sudden? Did he somehow know I’d made up my mind to leave?

No—that’s impossible. He might be an S-rank Esper, but he can’t read minds. There’s no way he could know what I was just thinking.

I was probably just projecting my own guilt.

“You’re the one who touched me. There’s nothing dirty about that. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“But you’re bleeding!”

Despite what he said, I could see a faint trickle of blood on his right index finger. I reached out to check, but he quickly shoved his hand into his pocket.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, we need to treat it.”

“Okay. I will.”

He brushed it off and focused on inspecting my hands again. It was like he didn’t even care about his own injury. With his left hand, he held mine and gently caressed the small scar—left behind when I’d tried to stop his earlier outburst.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was full of guilt.

“It’s nothing. You can barely see it.”

“I’ll never hurt you again.”

He gripped my hand tightly, like a vow. And then, once more, he whispered:

“...I’m really sorry.”