Delusive Fate

#048

It was almost like the servility of a slave. And not just any slave, but an enthusiastic one full of ambition to be recognized and liked by their master. It’s strange, very strange. Is he being this submissive just because he doesn’t want to be kicked out? There must be something more to it…

I narrowed my eyes and stared at him intently. Ki Baek-woo let out a small “Ah,” and suddenly covered his mouth with the back of his hand, slightly lowering his head. Then, as if embarrassed about something, he abruptly apologized.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“The swelling hasn’t gone down much… So, what would you like to drink?”

What the hell is this bastard talking about…? Swelling? Sorry? I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. It was absurd how Ki Baek-woo was acting as if he was self-conscious about his unsightly face.

Ha, I snorted, crossing my legs, and Ki Baek-woo, who was heading towards the kitchen counter, lowered his head even more. As if he was trying to hide his face from my sight as much as possible. I was so infuriated by this level of deception that I almost stabbed the fork I was holding into that bastard’s neck.

That’s when it started. Ki Baek-woo began to act completely like a slave. Not metaphorically, but literally, sincerely.

***

“Ki Baek-woo.”

“Yes?”

“Ramen.”

“You want ramen? Which kind?”

“The spicy and fiery man’s taste. Make it extremely spicy. So spicy it makes tears and snot run.”

“That spicy…? Alright, just wait a moment. I’ll boil it right away.”

“Stir in an egg.”

Ki Baek-woo, who was heading to the kitchen, paused.

“An egg?”

I stared quietly at Ki Baek-woo, who was questioning, in an arrogant posture with my arms draped over the back of the sofa.

“Sorry, just wait a little.”

Ki Baek-woo quickly apologized and turned away. I glanced at the kitchen light turning on and then smirked. Oh, you idiot. I snickered inwardly. A giggle escaped involuntarily at the thought of messing with Ki Baek-woo again.

Ki Baek-woo had completely lost his mind. It was certain. Although I’m not a psychiatrist, as a room expert who has experienced a wide variety of mental illnesses for a considerable time, Ki Baek-woo was clearly in an insane state right now.

I thought I knew everything about Ki Baek-woo. No matter what he did now, even if he suddenly gained S-class acting skills one day, he couldn’t fool me. If Ki Baek-woo was a magician, I was an audience member who knew every magic trick in existence. But lately, I’ve been realizing anew. The saying that you can know the depth of water but not the depths of people’s hearts was really true…

Who would have thought that Ki Baek-woo’s secret future aspiration was to be a slave boy?

Watching what he does quietly, I seriously wondered how much effort he must have put into hiding his desire to submit and grovel to others until now. I think this way: This isn’t an attitude you can achieve by running a simulation for a day or two. Unless he had been imagining being used as someone else’s slave every day, an ordinary person couldn’t become this proficient at servitude overnight.

Suddenly, I remembered the morning a few days ago when Ki Baek-woo made pancakes and waited for me. From that point on, Ki Baek-woo started doing things he wasn’t even asked to do, volunteering himself as a slave. He’s doing so many things that it’s hard to list them all in detail.

My recent daily routine goes like this:

In the morning, Master Lee Han-sol wakes up and drinks the water that Slave Ki Baek-woo has prepared in advance. The slave, perhaps worried that his master who is three years older might die of a heart attack, always serves lukewarm purified water in the morning. Of course, since the master’s insides are always burning due to long-standing resentment and anger management issues, ice is prepared separately in another cup and placed on the bedside table in case he wants something cool.

After moistening his throat, the master leans against the bed headboard nobly and elegantly, savoring the warm coffee placed next to the water cup.

Mm, caffeine.

Perhaps because life is so damn hard, the master, who can’t function in the mornings, regains his senses by drinking warm coffee at just the right temperature. And for a moment, he wonders:

‘How does this slave bastard know when I’ll wake up and always prepare coffee at just the right temperature?’

But as with all nobles, the master isn’t genuinely interested in how the slave handles things. If the slave thought the master was really curious and started to babble an answer, the master might throw a fit, saying, “How dare a lowly creature like you flap your lips! Shut your filthy mouth and get out of here!”

Anyway, after washing up in the en-suite bathroom, the master steps out, roughly combing through his messy bed hair. Sometimes he scratches his belly or his butt. It’s an unsightly appearance, but the only one watching is the disposable slave. The master doesn’t care at all.

“Master, I hope you had a peaceful night. I’ve prepared food for you again today. Please, have a seat.”

“Mm.”

Master Lee Han-sol sits at the table full of food he happened to want, ignoring Slave Ki Baek-woo’s polite greeting. Today’s dish is gomtang (beef bone soup).

Yesterday, while watching a program called “Korean Table” on TV, the master had mentioned to the slave that he wanted to eat ox-tail gomtang that had been simmered for a long time with great care. The slave simmered ox-tail all night for the master. Since it was difficult to suddenly obtain high-quality Korean ox-tail, he even made a private trade using something called the Center community. Of course, the money came from the slave’s own pocket.

After filling his stomach generously with gomtang from the morning, the master sits on the living room sofa and zones out. Slave Ki Baek-woo stops doing the dishes and quickly runs to open the living room curtains wide. It’s a sunny day. Master Lee Han-sol isn’t a plant, but he likes to laze around and photosynthesize like one.

“Master, here is the remote control for you.”

“Mm.”

The slave tactfully turns on the TV and hands the remote to the master. The master just flips through channels with nothing to do, until he starts to focus on the only program he finds interesting, an infidelity exposé show called “Love is War.”

“You! How could you do this! I bought you a house, a car, even set up a hospital for you, and you dare to have an affair behind my back? You and that homewrecker won’t get away with this! Just you wait!”

The sharp voice of the wronged wife cursing her cheating husband and his mistress leaked out of the TV.

Master Lee Han-sol occasionally shouts excitedly, “Kill that fucking bastard! Forget divorce, just kill him!” Slave Ki Baek-woo bites his lips nervously while scrubbing the dishes. The slave’s red lips, which used to be plump and glossy, are now constantly chapped. The rough, raised skin and scabs never seem to heal.

“Master, lunch is served.”

“Mm.”

The master heads to the kitchen to eat something again after lazing around. Lunch is eaten simply. Today it’s a salad with fruits. The master instructed the slave to make a salad with elaborately carved fruits and vegetables in the shapes of stars, hearts, rabbits, and so on.

After finishing the morning dishes, the slave spent two hours sitting next to the master, carving fruits for the salad. Although the master had yelled at him to stop fidgeting and go work in the kitchen, the slave only pretended to leave and just stayed there. The master found it unpleasant, unable to understand why the slave kept trying to stick around. However, he ate the salad with relish.

“Master, your afternoon coffee is served.”

“Mm.”

In the early afternoon, Slave Ki Baek-woo served the iced Americano for the master to drink in the afternoon. Master Lee Han-sol was lying on the sofa, fiddling with his phone. The slave then does the neglected housework. He diligently dusts, scrubs the floor vigorously, and polishes it. Even during this, he frequently checks on the master’s state. If he notices that more than half of the ice in the iced Americano he served to the master has melted, making it watery, he quickly goes to the kitchen to brew a new coffee.

The slave prepares dinner. Tonight’s dinner is Vietnamese spring rolls. It’s not a difficult dish, but it takes a lot of effort to prepare. Master Lee Han-sol seemed determined to make Slave Ki Baek-woo suffer, always demanding such labor-intensive foods. Anyway, after diligently shredding vegetables, stir-frying meat, and setting the table with sauces, the slave calls the master.

“Master, dinner is ready.”

“Mm.”

The master arrogantly sits at the table and stuffs himself with food again. The slave takes this opportunity to bring a dehumidifier and air purifier to the bedroom. This was to create a comfortable environment in the bedroom while the master was eating. The reason for moving the machines in and out of the room was because the noise might bother the master when he’s resting or sleeping if they were left on all the time. The slave lingers in the bedroom for a moment. Originally, the master had allowed the slave to tend to the bed, but not anymore. These days, the slave spends his nights in the living room.

“Master, I hope the food is to your liking.”

“Mmph.”

Master Lee Han-sol mumbles while chewing Vietnamese spring rolls like a pig. Although it’s a completely undignified appearance, the master doesn’t care at all how he looks to the slave and just keeps eating. Slave Ki Baek-woo quietly observes the master and quickly approaches with a tissue.

“Master.”

“Mm?”

When the master looks at the slave with disgust, the slave carefully takes the master’s hand. The master’s hand was smeared with chili sauce from the spring rolls. Slave Ki Baek-woo meticulously wipes Master Lee Han-sol’s hand. The master continues to eat noisily, and the slave sits quietly beside him, starting to roll spring rolls for the master. If anything gets on the master’s hands or around his mouth, he diligently wipes it off.

The master suddenly thinks that he doesn’t seem to have seen the slave, who prepared all three of his meals today, eat anything. But he doesn’t care. That’s not the master’s concern, it’s the slave’s business to take care of himself.

And then night comes. Slave Ki Baek-woo diligently massages Master Lee Han-sol’s body as he lies on the sofa. He pats the back, kneads the shoulders, and does his best to give a massage. Although the master’s entire body is soft without any knots due to his extremely lazy lifestyle, the slave just provides all the services he can to the master. In fact, it’s the slave himself who needs a massage.

These days, the slave’s complexion is no different from that of a corpse.