But the woman didn’t argue. 

Unlike the people here, her eyes were shallow and clear, untainted by shadows. He saw her struggling to keep her head up. And then, without warning, she lifted her eyes. 

The sunlight caught in her light, transparent eyes, revealing their depths. 

“I really want to go….” 

Her voice was cautious and small. Then her gaze gradually fell away. 

“Could you please take me there…?” 

“....” 

Seduction, you see, isn’t just about sexually enticing someone. It’s about luring someone into a state of confusion or leading them down a dangerous path. Seduction doesn’t have a fixed form or follow any specific rules. 

It’s an intricate blend of intuition, tone, voice, gaze, and timing. Trying to calculate every aspect of it is nearly impossible. In that sense, seduction is less about effort and more about natural talent. 

And the most dangerous type of seducer is the one who doesn’t even realise they’re doing it. 

As Abel looked at Seo Ah, who had just managed to get what she wanted with a few soft words and a faint smile, he thought to himself: 

She’d be a real asset if she were a wolf, not a target. 

Even someone as skilled in the art of seduction as he was, had been momentarily captivated. Despite swearing to himself that he wouldn’t go to that wretched market, he now found himself sitting in a carriage, the decision already made. 

But before he could fully process the shock of this newfound realisation, the price he paid for being momentarily enchanted by a foreigner began to catch up with him. 

Meanwhile, Seo Ah, who had felt suffocated by Abel’s deathly glare inside the carriage, immediately understood why he had been so reluctant to come here as soon as she stepped out. 

The markets she had visited so far had been crowded, but at least the entrances were somewhat respectable. Most had archways that marked the entrance, and the paths were wide enough that she didn’t have to constantly bump into people. 

But this place had no sign, no archway—just a narrow, convoluted path barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through. To make matters worse, tents were haphazardly strung above, making the entire place feel like a tunnel. 

“A ghost clinging to you because you haven’t visited enough markets, maybe.” 

His voice, thick with disdain, muttered behind her. 

It seemed likely that he would soon abandon any pretence of politeness. 

“I’ll be quick,” she murmured in a small voice, then took a step ahead of him. 

She turned back to ensure he was following her, silently conveying that she would lead the way. 

When she glanced back, Abel was being dragged along like someone being led into a slaughterhouse. She could almost swear that if it weren’t for Oscar’s orders, Abel would have abandoned her long ago. 

She resolved to go in but not linger as she had in the other markets. 

With that thought in mind, she stepped into the market and immediately felt the change in the air. 

The smells of stale goods, fish, meat, and a mix of other scents blended faintly with the smell of sweat, seeping into her lungs. The narrow path was lined on both sides with vendors who had piled their goods haphazardly, their stalls packed tightly together. 

The interior of the stalls was no different from the cramped market itself. There was just enough space for one person to slip between the stacks of goods, and the vendors either stood or sat in that narrow gap. 

In other markets, the vendors had called out to passersby, inviting them to buy their goods. Here, however, the vendors simply stood and watched the people walk by their gazes sharp and intense in the dim light. 

But none of those stares compared to the one burning into the back of her head. 

It felt like it might bore a hole into her skull. 

Meanwhile, Abel was struck by the sinking feeling that today might just be the worst day yet. He could almost wager his entire fortune on it. How could this wretched place still be the same as it had always been? 

Even though this was a place that felt like home to him, it still filled him with such revulsion. What could have made her want to come here when she wasn’t interested in buying or selling anything? 

As he watched the back of her round head bobbing ahead of him, Abel felt an overwhelming urge to crack it open and see what was inside. Any thoughts of her being some kind of talent quickly evaporated, like whiskey spilt on the ground. 

He felt like his trauma and claustrophobia were closing in on him.