“Hey, someone educate this idiot!”
“If you want to keep your head dunked in water all day, go ahead and act up. No matter how much you bark, it won’t work here.”
“Young punk acting without manners? You little bastard, want me to teach you what manners are? Huh?”
His head was filled with auditory hallucinations.
Even knowing this wasn’t real but a false world he created, Rude didn’t dare escape it.
It was a scar created by violence and his own prison.
From an orphan pickpocketing in back alleys to becoming a slave in the arena.
The hell that began from that day continued until Rude realized his reality and bowed his head.
If you rebel, whipping follows. If you rebel again, water torture follows. That was the education method of the vast dark world called the ‘underground’.
They thoroughly tamed and subjugated the young kid who still knew how to fight back and climb up, and finally succeeded in creating one usable fighter.
But only the conclusion was so simple. The process was by no means simple.
Rude developed an extreme aversion to water. Even the slightest whiff of watery smell made his skin crawl.
The feeling of open wounds stinging in water, the hands that held his hair and dunked his head underwater even as he retched and choked.
He couldn’t forget any of it.
So when Rude suddenly woke up and realized his body was submerged in water, he was dragged into the hell of his past as if plunging into it.
It was useless to know it was just hallucinations and illusions. His mind was already completely paralyzed.
Ringing ears and a chaotic, dirty mess of a mind.
The watery smell invading his nose and the damp unpleasantness clinging to his body overwhelmed him, not allowing a moment of clarity.
What does it matter? What soft hands are lifting him up, what warm and ticklish voice is waking him? What does any of that mean?
He just thrashed about madly in hell.
Something sharp in his hands drew red lines on something white and smooth, gripping with all his strength.
What could this be? Why is it so delicate and thin?
As he was falling into questions, something covered both his ears.
“Rude.”
A familiar voice. He’d definitely heard it before. Who was it again…?
The mocking laughter and men’s coarse curses that had been tormenting him dissipated hazily.
Someone put their lips to his ear and called out as if whispering. Rude, come to your senses.
The strained voice from a constricted throat was extremely thin. As if it would snap at any moment.
At that moment, all the auditory hallucinations completely cleared and his vision brightened.
“…Rude.”
The first thing he felt was the small hands covering his ears. Next was the voice, then… this woman’s face.
His breath stopped the moment their eyes met.
As if he’d become a newborn baby taking its first breath, he was unsure how to exhale and inhale.
The woman’s impression was like a painting, if he had to describe it.
Not like some cheap painting he’d occasionally seen in passing at underground auctions, but an incredibly expensive painting that was hidden behind luxurious silk he dared not even look at, only revealing itself briefly when the wind blew.
It was shocking. How could he express this feeling and impression?
The moment he saw the woman, he felt as if he himself was nothing but black ashes piled in a fireplace.
If he had to squeeze it out with his uneducated, cheap mind, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Nothing else was visible except the woman, and even colors faded.
In his world, the only thing with color and radiance was this woman alone.
“Rude, are you alright now?”
Though he knew the question was for him, he couldn’t answer.
Because the moment she asked, their gazes locked perfectly.
The corners of the woman’s eyes were tinged red. Her eyelashes, which looked white or pale gold, hung like peacock feathers, and beneath them was a lake.
It was a lake that seemed like it would swallow you if you lost your mind.
Blue eyes that could only be created by mixing white paint into vivid blue paint in a subtle combination looked at him, wet with moisture.
…Wet? Wet with moisture?
When he realized this, the brief moment when only the woman and he existed in the world stopped.
When he saw the tears falling down the woman’s white, soft-looking cheeks, the sense of reality that had faded so distantly returned like a lie.
“You, what kind of crazy act…, are you insane?!”
The woman silently crying had a neck as red as her eyes. Because he had been choking it with all his strength.
He let go in shock, but there were even more shocking things left.
Wounds that he must have cut with the glass shard he had just thrown, and the blood flowing from them were tangled messily.
Damn it, does this woman have no sense of fear? With a body clearly more than twice her size, what was she thinking jumping in to grab a crazed man?
“Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking coming in here? Do you really want to die meddling?”
The uncouth manner of speaking he had been trying hard to suppress until now, not wanting to appear even more vulgar, burst out like a flood.
The extremely noble woman, who clearly didn’t belong with such a lowly bastard just by looking at the tips of her well-oiled and maintained shoes, had no response to Rude’s harsh words.
Come to think of it, the eyes he had gazed into mesmerized, comparing them to a lake, seemed somewhat hazy.
As if they would close at any moment… Damn it, they really are closing!
“Damn quack. Where the hell are you, someone’s dying here!”
It was when he was about to rush out carrying the woman.
The woman in his arms, whom he thought had collapsed, reached out and lightly brushed his shoulder.
It was a touch as fragile as if it would crumble like down feathers, but Rude’s body stiffened as if struck by lightning.
“…I’m fine, please bring some cloth or bandages from Mr. Burke’s bag to dress the wound.”
Even in this situation, her voice is damnably pretty.
What’s driving him crazy is that he has no idea who this Mr. Burke is among those words.
Barely swallowing his curses, Rude asked in the most gentlemanly way he could manage:
“Who’s Mr. Burke?”
“…I’m sorry. I mean the resident doctor who’s treating you.”
“Ah, that old quack. …But what are you sorry for?”
“I’ve never properly told you his name. Then I should have informed you about him before making the request.”
“What nonsense…”
He trailed off before saying “is that”. In fact, he had already exposed all of his terribly vulgar speech habits just before, so it was useless, but he still didn’t want to become even worse.
Rude took another deep breath and stared intently at the area around the woman’s cheeks.
He didn’t even try to make eye contact, afraid he might not be able to breathe again like before.
“…Alright. I’ll go get cloth or bandages or whatever, so let’s get out of here for now.”
This bathroom full of moisture was unpleasantly chilling. Rude stood up, holding the limp Merche.
[This is the timeline separator]Afraid she might shatter if he made even the slightest mistake, he placed the woman on the bed as if handling an extremely valuable glass sculpture.
After that, he rummaged through the medical bag of the quack whose name he didn’t even know was Burke, bringing all the bandages he could find. Only then did Rude belatedly realize one point of doubt.
“Where’s that quack bas… I mean, Mr. Burke?”
As soon as he asked the question, Rude felt an ominous feeling.
Because he saw a hint of difficulty creep into the woman’s eyes upon hearing his question.
The woman spoke in a voice as delicate as her kind manner of speech.
“He seemed to need treatment, so I advised him to step out for a while.”
Ah, treatment. …Right. Indeed, after being thrown around, hit, and beaten like that, a servant or doctor would need treatment. And it was he himself who had put him in that state requiring treatment.
Rude had nothing to say and just kicked at the floor with his foot. He was already in a position of receiving one-sided pity, and now he was about to receive contempt as well.
Thinking of the woman who would look down on him with coldly detached eyes like trash, just as others had done until now, his head oddly felt hot.
Damn it… Should I try to change the subject for now?
Rude sat down on the floor and looked up at the woman.
Of course, his gaze was slightly averted, not looking directly at her face.
“What’s your name, noble lady?”
Come to think of it, that’s right. Though he had blurted it out without thinking, he really didn’t know the woman’s name.
What could her name be? Hopefully something unattractive.
She’s already impossibly beautiful and a noble on top of that, wouldn’t it be a bit annoying if her name was pretty too?
“Merche Ashtad.”
Right, God is originally unfair, and those who have take even what the have-nots don’t have.
What did I expect? Rude resigned himself and softly recited the name he heard for the first time.
Merche, Merche… Even the pronunciation is so sweet it feels like my teeth will rot.
Rustle, rustle. The sound of someone wrapping bandages filled the quiet space, even amidst the complaints.
It was while that sound continued endlessly that Rude’s eyebrows slightly raised as he absently turned his eyes.
Abruptly, the large body swelled up and stood, reaching out a hand.
It was directed towards the wounded area Merche was trying to bandage.
As expected of a noble, her bandaging technique was clumsy.
If wrapped like that, it would unravel in less than half a day. It was an awkward action Rude had never done before, out of a sort of goodwill.
But before the outstretched hand could fully reach, Merche moved her body slightly backward.
“It’s fine.”
He was rejected. Very coldly. Rude silently looked down at Merche who had avoided his hand, then sneered with a cold laugh.
“Why, is it unpleasant to have a lowly hand touch you?”
The lake-colored eyes that were always calm slowly moved up Rude’s slender torso.
It was clearly a movement to meet Rude’s gaze, but Rude’s eyes were still averted.
“Well, a precious lady like you and I have different blood. You nobles have blood of a different color from the lowly ones from the start, and I’m just a slave with even my blood being lowly. It’s natural.”
“…I apologize if I caused a misunderstanding. I swear that wasn’t my intention.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t? Do you want to act merciful now?”
“Rude.”
At the call meant to calm him, he instinctively stopped speaking and closed his mouth again.
What is this, acting like a puppy rolling over and panting at its master’s words… As he wrinkled his face about to speak again, Merche cut in first.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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