Jiwon woke to a sharp sting spreading through every vein of his body, his breath hitched as soon as he tried to move; his waist and legs ached so violently it felt like knives were lodged inside him.
A low groan slipped past his lips before he even realized it.
"Ugh"
For a long moment, he didn't dare open his eyes because he already knew what he would see.
But instinct won, and his lashes lifted.
There he was again.
Sitting in the chair by the window, pale light dripping over his shoulders, his icy eyes fixed on Jiwon who was wearing an oversized white shirt with only boxers no pants.
Jiwon's chest tightened. His throat burned dry, but the air refused to move.
His whole body trembled uncontrollably, every muscle remembering the bathtub, the merciless hands, the suffocating pain that had stripped him bare.
His mind screamed to shout, to curse, to demand but all that left his mouth was a broken shaky breath.
And still, the boy watched unmoving.
Jiwon shut his eyes again, but the trembling wouldn't stop,
his body still shook when sergei finally moved.
His voice broke the silence low, steady, without a single hint of emotion.
"Jiwon Schmidt. Thirty-four years old.
Half Korean, half German.
You were born in Seoul, Korea. When you were seven years old, your parents died in an accident.
After that, you were sent to Germany, where your grandmother raised you. She died when you were eighteen.
Since then, you have lived on your own."
Jiwon's eyes widened. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He continued, his tone as sharp as a scalpel, slicing through Jiwon's memories one by one.
"You were always a top student. Intelligent, disciplined, the best in your class. You studied law in Germany and graduated at the age of twenty. But during those years, you lived with financial problems.
To support yourself, you worked part time jobs while studying.
You balanced both long hours of work, longer hours of study.
That is how you survived until graduation."
Jiwon's breath caught,his fingers curled into the sheets.
"After that, you moved to Russia.
Moscow.
There, you began your career as a lawyer.
You entered an international law firm and built your reputation quickly.
You handled criminal defense, corporate disputes, and cross-border contracts.
You worked with precision, never allowing distractions. Your colleagues respected you for your results and for your ability to win cases.
You advanced because you never stopped working, never stopped proving yourself."
Every word was a knife. How did this boy this stranger know his entire life?
Jiwon's lips parted, but no words came out.
He stared, stunned, trembling harder with each detail.
Sergei tilted his head, eyes glinting faintly in the morning light.
"Hmm...You had quite a hard life, right?"
Jiwon's throat burned as he forced out a whisper, his voice cracked and nearly breathless from pain.
"Who… are you."
The boy leaned forward slightly, those icy blue eyes never leaving Jiwon's face.
His lips curved not quite a smile, not quite a sneer.
"Me?...hmm...I already told you my name...but let's just say…"
"I'm someone who remembers what you chose to forget."
Silence... The weight of those words pressed heavier than the chains around him.
[What is he talking about...I don't know him...why is he..]
Jiwon barely had the strength to lift his head when he felt the air shift.
Before he could react, Sergei was there silent, the moment he moved, Jiwon's chest tightened.
He tried to scramble backward, but his body betrayed him;
trembling, weak, and aching, he barely managed to push himself up.
And then Sergei was on him.
The weight of him pressed down, pinning Jiwon to the bed.
Panic exploded in Jiwon's chest,he tried to squirm, to push, to escape but there was no strength, no leverage.
Every attempt only made him shake more violently.
[Not again… please…]
his thoughts screamed, fearing the torment he remembered from before.
But Sergei didn't strike, didn't raise a hand.
Instead, he leaned forward, a predator close to its prey.
"Haah!"
Jiwon's breath hitched as Sergei's face pressed against his neck.
The cold, controlled presence of him sent shivers crawling along Jiwon's spine.
"You...sm..."... " ha...n...chan..."
Words came, soft and low, brushing over his skin, but the syllables were distorted, almost swallowed by the rhythm of Sergei's breathing.
Jiwon couldn't make out a single phrase, and that uncertainty gnawed at him.
Then, as suddenly as he had come, Sergei slid off.
The weight lifted. Relief, confusion, and fear collided in Jiwon's chest.
He tried to catch his breath, trembling so violently he could barely sit upright.
Sergei walked toward the door.
Every step echoed through the enormous room, leaving Jiwon small, exposed, and alone.
Before the door clicked shut, Sergei's voice cut through the silence, calm, cold, and final:
"Don't try anything foolish. I'll be back in the afternoon."
And then he was gone.
Jiwon was left trembling on the floor, surrounded by the silence of the room,every muscle ached.
[What just happened?]
The silence after Sergei left pressed against Jiwon like a physical weight.
The echo of that warning:
«"Don't try doing anything foolish. I'll be back in the afternoon"»
He stayed crouched for a long time, trembling, hands pressed against the bed , body quivering.
Pain radiated through his waist and legs, and the memory of Sergei leaning down, whispering into his neck, made a cold knot of terror tighten in his gut.
[I… I can't stay here.]
The thought circled in his mind like a vulture. Panic flared, but beneath it, a spark of determination flickered. He had to move, he had to get out.
Jiwon dragged himself toward the far wall, scanning the room.
Then he saw it .
a window. Free, open, No bars, no locks, just air and sky waiting beyond.
His pulse jumped.
For a moment, hope surged through him.
But then he looked down. Second floor. Panic returned in a spike of cold dread.
[Shit. I might hurt myself, maybe worse…]
His hands trembled as he approached the sill, gingerly resting them on the frame.
The floor felt uneven beneath his bare feet, every small creak sounding like thunder in the quiet room.
He took a deep, ragged breath.
[I don't care. I can't stay here. I'll risk it. I have to.]
A moment of hesitation, then he swung one leg over the edge. The air outside smelled faintly of winter frost and wet earth. His heart pounded against his ribcage as he lowered himself down, gripping the edge.
"Okay… okay… don't think, just..."
"..."
He jumped.