“Julia, her husband, her children—I don’t give a damn about any of them. I haven’t contacted or seen them since Bluebell. I don’t even consider them family.”“Sounds like your mother hated you for a good reason.”Jerome smiled annoyingly. “Aren’t you curious why she did?”I finally snatched the fork and flung it aside in frustration. My appetite had vanished. I’d deliberately tried to forget Julia after escaping Bluebell—I hadn’t revisited those memories. I had no time to worry over her problems. Revenge or whatever else, I had dropped everything and run. If Jerome intended to exploit me to blackmail Julia or extort money, it was absurdly futile—Julia wouldn’t bat an eye; she’d pretend I didn’t exist.Silence fell. Jerome picked up the fork and looked at me. “You should eat more.”Staring him down, I kicked the plate across the floor. Jerome shrugged and cleared away the fallen dish. “You said you hadn’t eaten much until now?”“……”“Simon was thoughtless. I’ll apologize on his behalf.”“Simon ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) did nothing wrong!” I burst out before I could stop myself. I flushed with embarrassment—yet Jerome had no right to blame Simon. Because… why?Jerome narrowed his eyes and laughed. “Oh—so you’ve been tamed already? Cute.”His flippancy lasted only a moment before he added, “That was a lie, right?”“……”“It’s okay. Lie to me if you want. I actually like it. Seems Simon took your lie to heart, but not me. I enjoyed it.”“……”“Right. Taming you—nothing could be more impossible. Must be the drug effect.”Drug effect?“Raymond, don’t go around taking drugs recklessly. You always reacted too strongly to them, even at Bluebell.”Taking drugs? What drugs? Pills? I’d hardly taken any later…“You’re healthy but unusually sensitive to medication.”“What drugs are you talking about?”“Didn’t you notice while you washed earlier? You couldn’t have missed it.”His lips glistened with meat oil as he smiled enticingly. He gestured to his arm. “Your arm—look at it.”A chill ran down my neck. I slowly extended both arms—but saw nothing unusual. Just my arms, tanned by the sun.I looked back at Jerome. He burst into laughter at my bewildered face—a laugh that somehow made me feel ashamed and flustered. Desperately, I checked my arms again. Nothing—but I stared as if I could see something.Then I began to see it. The moment I realized what it was, my arms trembled uncontrollably. When had it started? Who had done this to me? Why had I known nothing?My forearms were covered in tiny red puncture marks—too many to count. Dozens… no, hundreds… maybe thousands.“Gasp… wha—what the hell…?”My breathing grew ragged. My arms seemed aflame, red with puncture wounds. I could have sworn blood dripped from them—no, it was dripping! My forearms became soaked in blood, burning with pain as if plunged into boiling oil!“It hurts! It hurts so much! Ugh…”My skin felt like it was tearing away. Then a cold hand clamped onto my arm. “Shh… it’s okay. You can endure it. It’s okay.”It was the same voice that once sang lullabies—a comforting, gentle tone. The cold hand stroked my arm softly and pulled me into an embrace. I had no time to recognize whose arms held me. The heat from my arms spread through my body, as if my entire being were thrown into a blazing inferno.Ah—knife! You were so hot too. You suffered this pain… like falling into hell. Tears streamed down my face; I wanted to cling to anyone. As I tried to grasp the soothing hand stroking my arm, I lost consciousness.Fainting felt instantaneous.When I opened my eyes again, late afternoon had already passed. I instinctively raised my arms—only to find them perfectly normal. The multitude of puncture marks had vanished, replaced by just two or three faint needle sites. What I’d seen before was a hallucination—pure delusion.I sighed and lowered my arms. Only then did I notice someone drying my legs with a damp towel. I looked down: Jerome’s dark hair appeared as he hummed, gently lifting each leg to wipe the calves and feet. His strokes were meticulous and tender, yet he said nothing, even knowing I was awake.I turned my head. Sunlight, less fierce now, streamed through the window. Keeping my gaze beyond the sill, I spoke quietly: “…You drugged me.”“If it’s any excuse—” Jerome answered calmly, unstartled. “I opposed using drugs. They ruin people.”“Isn’t that your purpose?” I asked softly. “To incapacitate me?”“No. That’s nobody’s goal, Raymond. You still misunderstand.”Jerome suddenly leaned over me, met my eyes, and grinned. “We truly like you.”“You’re all insane.”“We’re not sick—just clumsy.”Jerome tossed the wet towel aside and stretched leisurely. He placed a pair of shoes neatly beside the mattress. Without resisting as he helped me up, I stood and slipped into them. Naturally, I reached out my hand—after all, Jerome had offered it every morning this week. But he did not; he simply watched me lace up. Then, stepping ahead, he began to walk.I remained unbound. I glared at his light attire, which bore no weapons. Perhaps he already knew I wanted to die and sought to make me want to live—to replay some old hunt-and-chase game. A futile effort. I followed one step behind him and left the cabin.As I walked unaided through the doorway, a deafening roar shattered the air, nearly staggering me. My heart pounded. The noise came from the construction site. As I stared blankly, another roar struck like lightning beside my ear. Helpless, I collapsed, my heart racing as if to burst.Clutching my ears, I looked to Jerome in bewilderment. He looked puzzled—then, as if realizing something, he let out a shout. He seemed to realize I was covering my ears; I could not be sure. He spoke, lips moving, but I could not hear him. Then he reached out his hand.Seeing his outstretched hand, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief. Cautiously, I took it. He gripped mine tightly and helped me to my feet. Slowly, he led me back along the familiar forest path where we always walked. Though the sounds still intruded less brutally, my nerves were raw; I kept glancing over my shoulder. Before long, we reached the woods where we usually strolled.Finally able to match his pace, he asked, “Why did you do that?”“The sound… it was unbearable.”My anxiety made my breathing uneven. “Like my eardrums would tear.”“Yes, I expected that,” Jerome nodded nonchalantly. “It’s probably aftereffects.”“Am I… hearing things?” I panted.“No. The sounds were real. They’re demolishing over there right now. You couldn’t hear them all these past two weeks, but every time we walked, the construction noise was there—just not ear-splitting.”He explained kindly. “Your senses must’ve grown hypersensitive.”“What did you do to me?” I rubbed my face with my free hand.“How much time has passed?”“How long since I gave you drugs? Not too long.” Jerome yawned and answered, “About ten days. Maybe a bit more.”“Impossible. Only ten days?”“Simon used a lot of strong drugs in a short period. He must’ve been desperate,” Jerome said softly. “As you know, we don’t have much time left. Soon you’ll die too.”After that, we fell silent. Jerome seemed in good spirits—whistling now and then, his steps light. Our clasped hands were sweaty, yet he never let go. We wandered the woods until the heat drove us back to the cabin. Even the campsite was quiet then, as if on break.Jerome fetched our meal: simple sandwiches, but he returned with ice cream for dessert. We shared it. He cleared away dishes and brought out the knitting pile we’d struggled with for the past fortnight. He watched me knit without mistakes—until he finally spoke.“How long are you going to keep this up?”“I’ve barely gotten half a foot done. Aren’t you impatient?”Jerome laughed. “There’s still a long way to go before it’s a scarf.”“…How long will you put me through this pathetic rehab?”“Ah, that.” Jerome answered readily—but not as I’d hoped. “Ask Ms. Acacia about that.”“Then bring him here.”Jerome fell silent, feigning ignorance. “I’ve stayed in this cabin nearly a month. That so-called Acacia has hardly shown up. How am I supposed to ask him?”“He’ll come… once you’re healthy enough. It’d be nice if you were as fit as during your military days, but recovering this much in such short time is remarkable. Still, you should at least match your condition from our reunion, don’t you think?”“ You deliberately broke me down, and now tell me to get healthy again? What kind of perversion is this?”“To excuse myself once more,” Jerome said, raising a hand, “I was against it. I’ve always liked you at your strongest.”“I’m healthy now.”I tossed the knitting pile at his feet. “I’m healthy enough—so bring that man here. And then…” I swallowed the rest of my words—“kill me”—and fell silent.Silence reigned. Jerome picked up the knitting pile and laid it on his lap, wearing an inscrutable expression. Seeing him quiet and deep in thought—I realized something momentous was about to happen.

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