The Flesh Merchant

Untitled Episode

The last glow of dusk filtered through the window, brushing over the few pieces of furniture in the cramped room. A faint spill of light crawled into the corner—onto the silhouette of a woman with graceful curves. Even the dying sunlight seemed to echo the gloom weighing on her heart.

The door behind her opened with a soft click. A tall, elegant blonde stepped inside, halting after only two measured steps. As if reading the room perfectly, she said,

“You regret it, don’t you?”

“No.”

The voice from the corner was clear, but the woman’s posture remained rigid and unmoving.

“If you don’t regret it, then why won’t you put on the ring on the table?”

From the moment she entered, the blonde’s eyes had lingered far more on the table than on the room’s owner—as though that lone table was infinitely more compelling.

A small wooden box rested on it, carved with delicate patterns—so exquisite it looked more like something hidden deep in a royal treasury than a product of a modern industrial world. Yet it was, in truth, only a container.

The box was half open, revealing two compartments lined with black silk.

In the left lay a key, its electronic handle stamped with an intricate phoenix.

In the right rested a soft yellow ring that glowed with a jade-like radiance. At first glance, it looked plain—no jewels, no engraving—just a smooth band. But a closer look revealed faint, flowing threads of light moving beneath the surface, like drifting water. It held a quiet, unsettling beauty.

That beauty enveloped both women in a moment of shared silence, as if each had been pulled into her own memories. Eventually, the room’s owner broke the stillness, answering with a question of her own:

“My dear teacher, Lolita—do you really think I’m someone who breaks a promise?”

“Who can say?” Lolita sighed. “In an age where miracles hide their faces, whether a vow still holds weight… only heaven knows. I’ve never doubted your sense of duty. But vows don’t cover everything. People can’t always command their own hearts.”

“So it isn’t me who’s regretting—it’s you.”

A soft laugh escaped her, the tension easing from her shoulders. She stepped out of the shadows at last—with a beauty like moonlight breaking through clouds. Her face was so delicately pure it bordered on otherworldly; even Hollywood, famed for its endless parade of stars, would struggle to produce someone who surpassed her.

Slowly, she lifted the ring from the box and held it up to the fading light.

“It really is beautiful,” she murmured. “I imagine many women would give anything just to claim it.”

Lolita smiled gently.

“It’s more than beautiful. Ion Set… it seems you’ve already made your choice. Then I can rest easy.”

“Teacher, it seems you’ve been worried.”

“Yes. I feared you might hesitate, or doubt. This ring can offer you hope… but it can just as easily destroy you.”

“I never doubted.”

Ion Set smiled faintly. She lowered her right hand, sliding the ring onto the ring finger of her left. Though the band had looked slightly too large, it slipped on effortlessly—as if it had always belonged there. When she lifted her hand again, the ring didn’t budge. It clung to her skin with an almost natural certainty.

“You’re far more resolute than I expected,” Lolita said in a tone of strange admiration.

Ion Set shook her head. Her gaze on the ring grew distant. Her right hand drifted unconsciously to her chest, fingers brushing lightly over her breast as though searching for comfort.

“I simply have no other choice… I just don’t know when he’ll come to claim his due.”

At the sight of Ion’s expression, Lolita exhaled and turned to leave, a helpless smile on her lips.

“He will come.”

The last thread of dusk reflected off a corner of the room, catching Lolita’s hand as she reached for the door—her flawless skin glowing faintly in the warm light.

On the ring finger of her left hand… was a matching soft yellow ring, shimmering with the same jade-like glow.