Rage

Ch-3Decision

Undoubtedly, Kim is a formidable commercial tycoon with the power to dismantle anyone in the entire Asian region—quite literally anyone. A tragic incident appears to have rendered him paraplegic, consigning him to a bed for the foreseeable future. In the upcoming week, he was set to marry Rebecca, his financial manager and the daughter of his business partner. The incident brings to light his values, or lack thereof. Through a reversal of time, he unravels the identity of the unwitting perpetrator behind the accident—a South Korean immigrant on an unstable visa who had recently fled from a detention facility.

In the dimly lit alley, the surveillance camera silently recorded the unfolding events. Kim's vigilant bodyguard approached a nearby police officer, discreetly sharing that the incident was a private matter and urging discretion among onlookers. Meanwhile, in a chilling contrast, Fang found herself in a harrowing situation on a stormy day. Abducted and confined to a lightless cellar, she struggled against the restraints that bound her to an unforgiving chair. Blindfolded and silenced, her attempts to break free proved futile, creating a palpable sense of unease. Suddenly, the air grew heavy with the ominous approach of footsteps. A voice, both honey-like and menacing, pierced the darkness, instructing the removal of Fang's bonds. Startled, she opened her eyes to a shocking revelation—a familiar figure stood before her. In a tense moment, he seized her jaw, his nerves betraying a mix of emotions. An abrupt eruption of anger broke the eerie silence as he yelled, "How dare you!" Fang, visibly shaken, met his accusatory gaze, tears welling up in her eyes. In a surprising turn, she uttered the name "Kesong-li." Confusion hung in the air as he responded with a hesitant, "Huh?"

As Kim barked orders, his soldiers moved with a menacing determination, seizing her and forcibly dragging her towards his master's foreboding "bedroom."Fear gripped her, and a surge of rebellion surged within as she resisted the clutches of these evildoers, caught in a desperate struggle between opposing forces. The impending threat loomed large, and she keenly sensed the peril awaiting her. Amidst the chaotic scene, her screams reverberated off the sterile white walls, a desperate plea for escape.

Yet, in the midst of this dire situation, a remarkable transformation occurred. Despite the overwhelming odds, she summoned inner strength, channelling it through a repertoire of martial arts skills. With swift and precise movements, she defied the grasp of her captors, breaking free from their clutches. The corridor echoed with the unexpected sounds of her resistance.

The sudden turn of events left everyone, including Kim himself, in stunned disbelief. Her ability to swiftly regain composure and counter the force against her not only surprised but also challenged the expectations of those who sought to control her. The air hung heavy with tension as the unexpected display of martial prowess disrupted the nefarious plans unfolding in the ominous corridor.

The question hung in the air like an unspoken challenge: "Who exactly are you?" Kim's tone was surprisingly serene, his demeanour contrasting with the intensity of the moment. Undeterred, she met his inquiry with a bored and spiteful stare; her response was delivered with a touch of nonchalance: "It's none of your business."

A furrow formed on Kim's brow as he probed further, seeking to unravel the enigma before him. "What exactly is your problem?" The query lingered, a reflection of his perplexity in the face of her seemingly defiant attitude.

With a sigh, she leaned into the confrontation, her eyes locked on his. "You're the only one!" A breath was taken, a moment of pause, before she pointed with emphasis, directing attention to an undisclosed source of discontent.

The exchange continued, each word carrying weight in the charged atmosphere: "Did we ever meet before?" Kim sought clarity, a hint of uncertainty tainting his usually composed demeanour.

"I'm not sure," she confessed, her admission adding a layer of mystery to the unfolding conversation. The air between them crackled with tension, a dialogue unfolding on the precipice of revelation and withheld truths.

Kim, adopting an unexpectedly gentle approach, moved closer to her, his touch weaving a seductive dance as he deftly tied her hands. The transition from gentle to restrained happened almost seamlessly, leaving Fang in a bewildering state. Her heartbeat raced, each minute intensifying the whirlwind of emotions she grappled with. Somewhere in the exchange, she realised her hand was entangled, a subtle but effective move on Kim's part. She attempted to resist, to free herself, but it proved futile. Despite the escalating tension, she managed to maintain an outward appearance of composure.

As the guards took charge, binding her hands to the headboard, Kim's gaze bore into her with a mischievous grin. "I know how to get your attention!" he declared, his words hanging in the charged atmosphere. The door closed behind the departing guards, leaving the two of them alone in a room filled with palpable tension.

Approaching her with a deliberate stride, Kim's eyes met hers. She, however, averted her gaze, avoiding the intensity of his look. This act of avoidance placed her in a vulnerable position, with her knees momentarily buckling under the weight of the situation. "You're so pretty," he blurted out, his words breaking the silence and adding a layer of unexpected complexity to the encounter. The atmosphere crackled with a mixture of tension, uncertainty, and a hint of an unspoken connection between them.

"Why don't you strike a bargain with me?" he proposes.

"If you marry me, I won't file a police report," he suggests, intertwining the personal with the legal.

"Why would you think that? I'd marry South Korea's haughty, cold president," she retorts with a hint of sarcasm, pointing out his self-centred demeanour reflected in his grumpy expression and perfect shot. Kim, sneering, questions, "Do you even have a choice left?" He highlights the potential consequences of her background, emphasising the difficulty she would face in securing employment or a reputable position.

Name: Xiao Fang

Age: 23

Occupation: Martial Arts Specialist

Recent personal loss: My mother passed away not long ago

Despite the government's lack of support for criminals escaping from prison illegally, you successfully made it out alive. I am offering assistance by providing you with a position as a house nurse at the mansion.

Fang cynically chuckles, asserting that life experiences, rather than what is learned from books, do not define who they are.

You accuse me of being a criminal without knowing anything about me, all because I left a prison campus that caused immense harm, resulting in numerous deaths and ruined lives. With bloodshot eyes, I gaze down at Kim, whose mood is dismal and ominous. "Did you forget the accident footage? Your scooter collided with my car, causing irreparable damage and leaving me crippled, condemned to a life in a wheelchair. You were never the woman I was destined to marry, and now I'm utterly powerless.

However, the purpose of our conversation isn't to dwell on past grievances. I am willing to assist you for six months. If you can help me recover and regain the use of my legs, we can part ways amicably, and our respective affairs will remain private. Fang laughs dismissively. "Do you really think I'm a magician? I'm neither a doctor nor a nurse; a full recovery is impossible. Just let me be free."

"Why not seize the opportunity of my fantastic offer at this very moment?" Kim interjects, granting Fang the option to depart solo.

"You still have time until tomorrow," Kim adds, allowing Fang to leave on her own.

The night's starry sky gives way to the morning light as the sun rises, marking the transition with a breathtaking display of colours and renewing the world with a sense of hope and anticipation.

A sharp pang sliced through my back as I awoke, the memory of the previous evening's encounter with Kim clawing at the edges of my consciousness. Morning's delicate hues had just begun to dance on the horizon, but my lips were sealed, not out of reluctance to speak but out of fear of the repercussions that might unfold. The dawn painted the sky with hesitant strokes as I grappled with the turmoil within.

You've woken up! If that's the case, we can resume our talk from yesterday. Kim queries, "What do you want for breakfast? I'm not sure why you'd care. Okay, your desire! starve.

"Have you woken up? If that's the case, we can resume our talk from yesterday," Kim inquires. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'm not sure why you'd care," Fang responds with boredom.

"Okay, your desire! Starve then," Kim retorts, irritated.

"If you're going to be defiant, I'll show the tape to the cops," Kim declares firmly, giving a serious look.

"It showed how your motorcycle collided with my SUV," Kim adds, presenting the evidence.

"Pardon me," Fang says, confused.

"That would be a scooter," she corrects Kim.

"Oh!" Kim exclaims.

"So, how are you going to repay this?" Kim asks, pointing to the state of his legs.

"I'll only consider your marriage proposal under specific conditions," Fang asserts.

"What are these conditions?" Kim inquires.

"You must publicly acknowledge me as your wife," Fang declares.

Kim's expression tightens. "Okay, but..."

"I have my own set of requirements and guidelines," he declares with a mocking smirk. Her voice trembles as she orders, "Untie this rope."

"Sweetheart, my sentence isn't over yet!" The other person retorts dismissively, but she responds with a nonchalant, "Who cares?" pacing her composure.

"Please pay attention because you should not go outside until I tell you to. Second, you'd take my advice. Third, always adhere to my instructions. Fourth, never attempt to depart this location." As he walks away, he leaves Fang shattered into bits and pieces.

Amidst the aftermath, she realises she's choking.

In her misery, she finds herself too overwhelmed to ask for help.

"As she closed her eyes, she found herself confronted by the worst nightmare imaginable—a loaming darkness that gradually sought to envelop her. Despite her efforts to grasp and dispel it, she remained trapped, hindered by the pervasive anxiety that intensified her dread of the concealed torment."