The Revenge Kidnapping Drama's Transmigrated Female Lead - Chapter 9
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It had already been four days since her abduction. Psyche stared down at the neatly arranged food on the white tablecloth, debating whether to eat. Pretending to have no appetite had kept her from having a proper meal this entire time, and now the hunger was becoming unbearable.
She swallowed hard and was just about to pick up a sandwich when—
Knock, knock.
“May I come in?”
It was Terche’s voice.
A chilling sensation ran down the back of her neck. No one had ever entered during her meals before. With a tense expression, she set the cutlery down.
“My apologies for interrupting your meal.”
Terche said, standing in the doorway.
“Would you step out for a moment?”
Psyche hesitated briefly but then nodded, rising to follow Terche out of the room. For the first time since her abduction, she was leaving her bedroom. But there was no room to admire the interior of the mansion.
The atmosphere was heavy, foreboding. A suffocating stillness lingered in the air, thick with tension. It felt like a ticking time bomb—something was bound to explode at any moment.
It wasn’t time yet for Mathes’s side to harm Ruon. But judging by the oppressive mood, it felt as though Ruon might already be dead.
‘Could it be… has the original storyline changed?’
Her ominous premonition proved accurate.
As she passed through the mansion’s main hall and entered the parlor, a faint hum signaled something powering on. Soon, a transparent screen materialized in the center of the room.
On the screen was Ruon.
At that moment, Psyche had to stifle a scream that clawed at her throat.
It was horrifying.
There wasn’t a single unscathed part of Ruon’s body. One arm hung loosely, completely broken and dangling unnaturally. His exposed skin was covered in crimson gashes and blotchy bruises.
Not only his body but also his face bore the brutal marks of violence. His cheek and eyelid were swollen and bruised, turning a deep shade of purple, while blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“Ha…”
Psyche’s face twisted in agony. She raised a trembling hand to her lips, exhaling the breath she had been holding as though it physically hurt to do so.
“As you can see, Ruon…” A damp, heavy voice cut through the stifling atmosphere, “isn’t in any condition to regain his senses.”
The sound of someone grinding their teeth broke the tense silence. Psyche remained frozen, her hand still covering her mouth, unable to tear her gaze away from the screen. Her face, drained of all color, was met by Terche’s emotionless stare.
“Your brother orchestrated this.”
“…….”
“He threatened that if we don’t release you immediately, things will escalate far worse than this.”
His tone remained flat as he continued, unperturbed.
“Unfortunately, it seems your brother still hasn’t grasped why we’ve taken you in the first place.”
Psyche’s gaze, which had been fixated on the screen as if glued to it, finally shifted. She turned her head toward Terche with the mechanical stiffness of a broken doll. Terche’s cold, icy-blue eyes swept over her from head to toe, his demeanor unsettlingly composed.
“Which do you think would be more inconvenient to lose—your arms or your legs?”
Psyche blinked up at him, her face blank with confusion. The meaning of his words didn’t immediately register.
“…What?”
“I’m giving you the chance to choose which will break. If it were me, I’d choose my arms, Phrena.”
Helios, who had been standing near the sofa, offered her a kind suggestion in a tone that seemed almost considerate. Psyche opened her mouth slightly, as if to respond, but the words caught in her throat and she closed it again.
“Do you dislike both options? There is another choice, if you’d like to hear it.”
Terche said nonchalantly, his tone as casual as if he were offering a meal suggestion.
Psyche stiffened, her body growing rigid. How could he say something like that so casually?
She was too shocked to respond, and Helios, ever so helpful, chimed in again, ‘Go with the arms. That’s probably the better choice.’
“I….”
A strangled sound escaped from Psyche’s lips. She couldn’t manage to string the words together, and her mouth shut tightly once more.
“If you can’t decide, we’ll go with the arms.”
