[AFYC] Chapter 27

A muffled, agonised sound escaped from the man’s throat as it felt like his tongue was melting away. The smell of his burning flesh invaded his nostrils, turning every second into an eternity of torment. The icy blue-eyed devil standing over him offered no mercy, just stared down with a chillingly detached gaze.

After what felt like an eternity, Oscar finally averted his gaze from the man. His eyes then fell upon the brothel owner, who his subordinates had quietly dragged in. She stood dumbfounded in the silent hell that had unfolded before her. 

“Oh…” 

Oscar, who had so effortlessly crushed a grown man beneath his heel, casually straightened his back, brushing his hands off. The man, now free to move, crawled towards the brothel owner like a beaten animal, groaning in pain. Despite the scene, Oscar remained unchanged from the moment he had first entered the mansion. 

“You’ve arrived?” 

His low, almost gentle tone sent shivers down her spine. All thoughts of valuable gems or potential earnings vanished as primal fear took over, washing away any rational thoughts like a receding tide. She collapsed to the floor, pressing her forehead against the cold ground. 

“I was wrong,” she whispered. 

Oscar looked down at her without a hint of emotion while his subordinates moved quietly and efficiently around them as if anticipating his orders before they were given. 

“I was wrong; please forgive me.” 

As she lay prostrate on the floor, she noticed a heavy sack of money land in front of her, splattering in the puddle of her vomit.

The sight made Seo Ah realise that the men, now unconscious at her feet, were human traffickers.

Trembling uncontrollably, the owner pressed her forehead back into the mess, her hair sticking to the foul mixture. She tried to understand why this was happening to her. Why was this mysterious man so fixated on the girl? Why was she being treated like this? But those questions were irrelevant now. She had been brutalised for something as simple as procuring a girl. The reasons for her punishment were far more numerous. 

“Pl-please forgive me…” 

With every slow, deliberate step Oscar took towards her, she felt as if she might faint from terror. She had thought herself worldly and experienced, but never had she been so utterly terrified. 

“Forgive me, please, forgive me…” 

Her rationalisations, thoughts of legalities and power dynamics seemed absurd now, like the remnants of a fading dream. 

Oscar stopped just before her, his hands in his pockets, staring at her trembling form. He carefully considered how to deal with her, weighing his options. 

What would be the most efficient choice? 

The brothel owner, whom Simon had thought was digging her grave, was fortunate. In a small place like Felphe, causing unnecessary bloodshed wasn’t the wisest move. 

“No guest was staying here tonight,” Oscar stated calmly. 

She nodded frantically, “Yes, of course.” 

“And the woman you bought for five thousand—she was never here either.” 

“Absolutely,” she agreed immediately. 

“Clean this up.” 

Oscar nudged one of the bodies with his foot. “Can I trust you to handle it? If not, I’ll do it myself.” 

“No, please trust me, I’ll take care of it,” she stammered, repeating her assurances without even realising what she was saying. 

“Good. I’ll trust you then,” Oscar said in a soft, almost affectionate tone. This made her express her gratitude like he was a saviour. 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” 

But it was too early to feel safe. 

“So, what did you give her?” Oscar asked, his gaze turning to the bed. 

She jolted, snapping her head up to see Oscar standing by the bedside, his tall figure leaning slightly over the girl. 

The girl, who had previously clung to the door as her only defence, had changed briefly since Oscar had last seen her. Her face, which had been pale and drained of colour, was now flushed red. Her eyes, unfocused and fluttering, struggled to stay open. 

“Haa…” 

Her breathing was shallow yet tinged with a strange languor. 

Oscar had been puzzled by the brothel owner’s earlier insistence on keeping the girl. Even when he heard the sum she had paid for the girl, he didn’t understand it. She had bought someone who couldn’t even make proper eye contact—what could she want with her? 

But seeing her now, he began to understand. There was something the brothel owner had seen in her. 

Straightening up, Oscar turned his gaze to the brothel owner, who was trembling as she crawled toward the bed. 

“So, you’ve already done something unnecessary?”