Episode 9: There’s More Than One Obsessive Male Lead (3)
Try expressing the female protagonist’s mindset as she looks at the two grown men huddling in the corner of the room.
If I had to sum up my answer in one phrase, it’d be: The millstone is missing its handle.
It’s not like I’m trying to live alone. I genuinely want us all to live well together. Do I really deserve those kinds of looks for that?
I let out a short sigh and shook out my wrist. I hadn’t expected the prank I designed solely for Baizen to work just as well on Ian. Not that I planned to drag it out any further like this.
“…Haa—”
“Ack!”
Just a light sigh made Baizen and Ian stumble over their feet in surprise. Watching them react like that even made me feel a little guilty. Not that I’d show it or anything.
I considered messing with them a bit more, but instead, I raised my hand and picked up the letter I had dropped earlier—Odelia’s letter, which had slipped from my grasp when Ian grabbed my arm.
“I’ll be taking this letter with me.”
“Why would you—”
“Got a problem with that?”
I lightly flicked my wrist as I asked, and Ian shrank back.
Stamped on the white envelope was the swan seal representing Odelia. Gold wax on a pristine envelope—just like the innocent girl it belonged to.
At that moment, the contents of the letter came rushing back to me. The clumsy, pressed handwriting drenched in anger and sorrow. The tear stains that had wrinkled the paper.
And the simple plea, written in just three lines:
[Please save me. Help me. Get me out of this hell.]
That was all the letter said.
Pitiful, pitiable Odelia. A girl who deserved nothing less than the world’s love, but was dragged into ruin by the twisted obsessions of the male leads. She was too naive—she didn’t think to run away, nor did she try to rise and take revenge. That’s just how her character was written.
Thinking of the blood-stained desk in the room, I walked over to Baizen’s desk. I took out the matches I’d seen earlier, lit one, and set the letter ablaze.
A funeral in her place—for a girl who never got to die peacefully, even in her final moments.
The gold seal melted as the white paper burned, dripping like tears.
“Odelia, are you okay—”
Baizen’s voice was laced with concern as he watched the shift in my mood. I suddenly didn’t want to look at his face.
I agreed that everyone should be given a chance to repent. But no amount of repentance could erase the sins of the past.
Looking at the two of them standing there, my heart felt heavy.
They were the ones who caused so much death—ultimately driving Odelia to her grave. It may have been others who directly killed her, but these two stood by and let it happen. That makes them just as guilty.
“Odelia?”
Even Baizen, who looked genuinely worried…
“Move.”
A pounding headache came over me. I didn’t even know why I was so irritated. I just… was.
“I’m spending the whole day alone. Don’t come looking for me.”
I shoved Baizen aside and left the office. I didn’t even have the strength to lift my head. Lucy, waiting outside, sensed the mood and silently fell into step behind me.
“Sorry, Lucy. I’m not going to the study today.”
“Then…”
I glanced out the window. The sky was hazy.
“I’m just stepping out for a bit.”
Lucy hurriedly grabbed my hand. She didn’t say anything, but her anxious eyes betrayed her worry.
“I’m not going far. Just need to clear my head.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry. Just wait for me in my room.”
Brushing past her, I left.
Maybe because the weather was gloomy, or maybe because I was feeling miserable, the hallway looked especially dark today.
I passed by a few servants, but I couldn’t greet them with jokes or smiles like usual.
When I finally reached the garden, a cool breeze welcomed me. One short sigh, and I felt like I could finally breathe.
“All I did was walk out of a building, and I can breathe again.”
Odelia must’ve spent years trapped here.
In the original story, Odelia died at just twenty-three. Back in my world, girls that age were going to college, making friends, stressing over exams or drinking too much—living each day in a whirlwind of normal youth.
Odelia was bright and lovable—surely loved by all. She would’ve been responsible, never skipping out on an assignment. She was thoughtful, someone who would’ve been respected and loved at the center of any group.
She would have fallen in love with someone nice, fought sometimes, made up, and lived a normal, loving life.
But reality had been cruel. Her official cause of death at twenty-three was suicide due to psychosis. That’s what they said. She suffered so much pain, she chose to end her life.
But the obsessive men didn’t let her die on her own terms. They saved her. Brought her back. And then killed her with their own hands. They dismembered her. She died from shock, unable to endure the agony.
What a wretched, humiliating end.
Back then, as just a reader, I thought she was pitiful. I was frustrated by her foolish death and angry at the author for ending it that way.
I even remember leaving a comment: If this is how you’re going to end it, you shouldn’t have started in the first place.
But that was it. Just the shallow reaction of a reader.
Now that I was living as the protagonist inside this story, everything felt filthy. So foul, I couldn’t put it into words. Twisted and sickening.
“…Meow—”
I looked up at the hazy sky when I heard a cry. Then something lightly bumped my leg. I looked down and saw a small white cat meowing under my legs.
“Meow—”
“…Hi there.”
The tiny creature made me smile.
“Are you lost?”
“Meow?”
“Where’s your mom?”
“…”
The cat, casually grooming its fur, suddenly flopped onto the ground. Its indifference was strangely charming.
I sat beside it and offered a fingertip. Its little nose twitched as it sniffed me.
“The weather’s not great. You should get home.”
“Mrrrow—”
“…Are you ignoring me?”
When I gently stroked between its eyes, the cat flopped onto its back and exposed its belly.
And then—plink. Raindrops began to fall.
So it was going to rain, after all.
The white cat twitched its ears in irritation as raindrops hit its head.
“…Mrow!”
It gave a short, annoyed cry and darted under my legs for shelter.
“Even a tiny thing like you runs from what it hates. Why couldn’t she?”
“…”
“She still had all her limbs back then.”
Was she too naive to even think of running? I chuckled bitterly, watching the rain dot my skin and the cat lick the drops from my forehead.
“There must’ve been a reason she didn’t run, right?”
“…?”
“Maybe… just maybe… she loved one of them. Loved him so much, she didn’t want to leave—even in that hell.”
Even I knew how ridiculous that sounded. That’s why I stopped. If I said any more, I’d start hating myself.
I looked at the cat, who was staring up at me, and forced a smile.
“Just kidding. That was a lie.”
“Meow—”
“Yeah… I just lied to myself.”
I stroked its little head a few times and stood up.
“It’s really coming down. Go on home. Be safe.”
“Mrow!”
As I turned to leave, the cat cried out loudly and rubbed its head against my leg.
“Meow!!”
Its long, drawn-out cry felt like it was asking me to take it with me. But I couldn’t afford to carelessly adopt a stray.
I could barely take care of myself.
“You should go home.”
“Mrow!”
The cat let out a grumpy cry. Even when I tapped its butt to shoo it away, it hissed and buried its head under my legs again.
“Do you… not have anywhere to go?”
“…Meow.”
It cried out softly, as if answering me—giving me the excuse I needed to take it in.
Is this what they mean when they say a cat chooses its human?
“But I really can’t take responsibility for you.”
“Meow—”
“I might end up sending you away.”
“…”
The cat yawned, unbothered, then nestled its head on my lap.
The way it curled into me made my chest ache a little.
Maybe because I saw Odelia in this little creature. She and this white cat… they would’ve gone well together.
“Then… can you make me a promise?”
It couldn’t understand, of course. But I whispered anyway, a sliver of hope in my voice.
As I stroked its soaked fur, the cat let out a soft purr.
“Will you be Odelia’s family?”
“Meow?”
“It’s nothing big.”
I gently picked up the little thing and kissed its damp forehead.
“It’s just… she’s scared of being alone. I hope you’ll stay by her side. In sadness, in joy… always.”
“…Sniff.”
The puff of air from its nose made me laugh. It was like it was saying, What nonsense is that?
Some of my friends adopted pets because of loneliness. One had battled depression for a long time, and after getting a pet, she slowly came back to life.
She used to say things like, I wake up early to feed my potato, or I scold Mandu if he skips meals, or If I come home drunk, Happy nags at me…
They’d complain, but they were smiling.
I hoped this little white cat could be that kind of presence for Odelia, when she returned someday.
Even if Baizen wasn’t family anymore. Even if Ian disappeared to a distant land.
“Shall we go back to the room now?”
“Meow!”
The cat cried out, burying its face into my elbow. Its bold, clingy affection made me laugh.
The rain thudded against the window, sliding down the frame. In the pitch-dark room, veiled by clouds and missing both moon and stars, a soft white glow appeared.
First one. Then another.
From two to three, three to five.
Like fireflies, the orbs of light multiplied, filling the space.
One of the white lights floated toward the bed.
Pop!
As it brushed the sleeping woman’s cheek, it quivered and burst.
Maybe it burst from her overwhelming beauty. Or maybe… it was the sound of someone snapping their fingers.
“Meow… haah!”
Next to the woman—Odelia—the cat stretched, then slowly began to change.
The ears faded last. The man, brushing his human fingers over where the cat ears had been, twirled his long hair between his fingers.
“…Family.”
He softly echoed the word he’d heard from Odelia, blinking his crimson eyes.
“What are you? Why are you… so interesting?”
He pressed a gentle kiss to Odelia’s dark hair, slipping through his fingers, and whispered:
“…I want to have you.”
Cradling her in his arms, he let out a satisfied sigh and fell back asleep.
