Trapped in Love, Not Chains

I woke up to pain and the smell of metal.

Not celestial choir.

Not lava, not void-screams.

Just cold and rusty. My shoulders threatening mutiny.

I tried to move and metal bit into my wrists. Chains. Thick ones.

My feet couldn’t find the floor; I was hanging just enough that my joints complained about it.

“…ah. Of course.”

Last memory: a sword in my wing, a harpy whispering that stabbing me was love.

Before that: a pop-up cheerfully announcing [OPPOSITE DAY ACTIVATED!].

And now, the sequel.

A blue window slid into my vision with the enthusiasm of a malware ad.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[WORLD: THE HUNTER’S LAMENT]

[CURRENT HOST: HAN SI-WOO ( A+ SUPPORT / DESIGNATED ‘TRAITOR’)]

[LOCATION: RED DRAGON GUILD – DETENTION CHAMBER]

[PRIMARY FLAG: CLEARED? NOPE (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻]

Ah, a detention room and a traitor this time. Truly Wonderful.

The System wasn't just trolling me; it actively tortured me and enjoyed my suffering.

I flexed my fingers experimentally. Rough calluses. Good muscle tone under the ache.

This body had been used. Not in a fun way.

Chains first.

I twisted my wrists, shifted my weight, searching for give in the metal, for the right angle.

The chains didn’t move.

Something did crack. Not the right thing.

“Urgh—fuck.”

Another window bloomed.

[WARNING: EXCESSIVE FORCE DETECTED.]

[REMINDER: PLAYER REQUESTED ‘NO MORE CHEATS, JUST LET ME LIVE’. CHEATS: DISABLED.]

[CURRENT STRENGTH: ADJUSTED TO AVERAGE HUMAN MALE (OVERWORKED).]

I ground my teeth.

“I NEVER said overworked,” I muttered.

Of course, no response. The System knew very well I was talking to it and was ignoring me out of spite.

Again.

Fine.

I forced my eyes to adjust to the dark. Bare concrete walls.

A single metal door with no handle on the inside. Mana-suppressing shackles buzzing faintly against my skin. No windows.

Interrogation room. How original.

I’d been in worse.

Didn’t mean I liked how this was trending.

Footsteps approached on the other side of the door. Slow, heavy. No attempt at stealth.

I stopped moving. If I thrashed around like a panicked animal, I’d lose leverage. If I played dead, I’d lose information. The best play was conscious, calm, and annoying.

The locks clanked. One, two, three. The door swung inward with the cheerful squeal of un-oiled hinges, and light knifed into the room.

A woman stepped in.

Black combat trousers. Dragonic tattoos etched across her chest like black shadows. White shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Red guild coat draped over her shoulders like a cape. Her hair was tied, red and smooth, but the neatness stopped there.

She looked like she hadn't slept since the invention of the wheel.

The pressure that came with her hit a heartbeat later. Mana, dense and suffocating, rolled across the room.

My lungs noticed immediately and filed a complaint.

She shut the door, clicked the locks back into place, dragged a metal chair to face me, and sat down.

Silence.

She just… looked at me. No greeting. No opening line.

As if on cue, the window updated.

[NAME: CHA EUN-HA]

[CLASS: HUNTER (RANK: S)]

[ROLE: GUILD MASTER OF RED DRAGON]

[RELATIONSHIP: COMPLICATED ♡~]

[LAST INTERACTION WITH HOST: ‘BETRAYED BY YOU’]

A little red heart wiggled at the end of the word “complicated.”

I stared at the notification and considered biting my tongue off.

Her gaze tracked the tiny movement of my eyes. She followed my line of sight to the empty air where the System hovered and frowned very slightly.

Ah. Ideally, this was the part where she asked “Who do you work for?” or “Why did you betray?”

“Han Si-woo,” she said.

Her voice was lower than I expected. Rough at the edges, like she’d been shouting or smoking or both.

“Guild Master,” I answered automatically.

She flinched.

Not visibly, not for anyone normal. Just a tiny tightening at the corner of her mouth.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” she said.

Neutral words. Flat tone. Eyes that were anything but.

She didn’t ask if I was in pain. She already knew the answer.

"Hard not to be," I replied, my voice dry. "The accommodation service here is terrible."

She didn't smile. She didn't frown. She just watched me with that unblinking, bloodshot gaze.

"You still have that mouth," she muttered, tapping ash onto the floor. "Even after everything."

"Everything" was doing a lot of heavy lifting there. I had zero memories of this body. Did I sell guild secrets? Did I kill her dog? Did I put pineapple on her pizza?

I needed her to talk first.

"If you're going to kill me," I said, testing the waters, "you're taking a long time to"

"Kill you?"

She laughed. It was a dry, cracking sound.

"No. That would be too easy. And too kind."

She stood up.

We stared at each other.

She sighed. It wasn’t tired. It was the sound people made when they saw something they liked get dirty.

Then she reached into her coat and pulled out a knife.

Short blade. Utility, not ornament. The kind of thing you use in dungeons to cut ropes or throats.

She flicked it once, testing the weight, then stepped forward.

I didn’t bother begging. Begging never stopped knives; it just made them feel better.

I tried to twist away, but the chains reminded me who was in charge.

The knife went into my thigh.

Heat and white noise rushed up my spine.

My vision spot-flickered. The curse that punched out of me was less elegant than I wanted.

“FUCK—”

Her face didn’t change.

Blood soaked through the ripped fabric, warm and sticky. Pain flared bright, then dull, then settled in like an unwelcome roommate.

[HP: 100% → 72%]

[TIP: YOU’LL BE SEEING THIS SCREEN A LOT. (＾▽＾)]

“Why?” she asked.

Not “hurt?” Not “okay?”

Just that one word. Dropped between us like another knife.

I forced my eyes to focus on hers.

“Which ‘why’ are we talking about?” I rasped. “The philosophical one, or the part where I woke up in hardcore bondage?”

Her hand twisted the knife.

My leg tried to leave my body.

“Don’t,” she said softly. “You know what I mean.”

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The mana coiled around her tightened in response, humming against my skin.

“Why did you do it.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

Right. Traitor.

The System hadn’t bothered to send me a highlight reel of Han Si-woo’s greatest hits, the lazy bastard.

All I had was a name, a title, and the fact that this woman wanted me dead but hadn’t done it yet.

That “yet” was important.

“I’d love to answer,” I said. “Unfortunately, I don’t remember what the hell you’re talking about.”

Her eyes cooled a few degrees further. She pulled the knife out in one sharp movement.

I nearly bit through my tongue.

She let me bleed for a moment, watching my expression, then reached again into her coat and produced a glass vial. Clear liquid, faint golden glow.

High-grade potion.

She uncorked it, poured some over the wound. It burned like righteous judgment, then numbed. Flesh knitted under torn fabric, slow and obscene.

[HP: 72% → 96%]

[BLEEDING: REMOVED]

[PAIN: …TEMPORARILY MASKED]

She didn’t waste a drop. The rest she tipped into my mouth before I could decide if I trusted it.

I didn’t drown. Progress.

“If you’re going to torture me,” I said after the potion cleared my throat, “you might want to coordinate the healing a little better. You’re stepping on your own work.”

“Si-woo.”

The way she said my name shut me up.

It wasn’t angry.

It was worse.

“You vanished during a raid,” she said. “The healers said you dragged three bleeding idiots out of an exploding dungeon by yourself, then walked back in alone.”

Her gaze didn’t leave my face.

“The next day, footage appears of you walking into Black Sun’s building.”

Ah.

Rival guild. Black market handlers.

“Two hours later,” she went on, “they announced their new raid captain. A man in a mask. Your height. Your build. Using your skills.”

Her voice stayed flat. Too flat.

“And the next week, Benny and Seo-yeon are ambushed at their home.”

Names. Good to know.

“Layouts exposed. Empty Vaults. Trap patterns broken. Someone who knew our internal routes, our cooldown rotations, our supply lines, handed them over. Almost like a raid leader had switched sides.”

She tilted her head.

“Do you remember that?”

Black Sun, presumably. And I emptied the vault?

The original owner of this body was either a genius or a suicidal idiot. Judging by my current position, I was leaning toward the latter.

"You have the logs," I said, keeping it vague. "So why do we need this conversation?"

"Because I want to handle you myself."

She leaned in, her hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look at her. Her fingers were cold.

"Why, Si-woo? Was it the money? Did Black Sun offer you a better contract?"

Her eyes searched mine, desperate and furious.

"Tell me it was the money. Tell me you're just trash who sold us out for a higher salary. That would make this easier!"

I looked at her. Really looked at her.

She wasn't just angry. She was terrified. Like her world would crumble any moment.

If I admitted to greed, she would kill me. Or worse, lock me away as a criminal. But if I denied it...

I had to gamble.

I let out a breath, letting my shoulders slump as much as the chains allowed.

"It wasn't the money."

Her grip on my jaw tightened.

"Then what? A woman? Did the Black Sun Guild Master spread her legs for you?"

"Jesus, no." I rolled my eyes. "Is that really what you think of me?"

"Then give me a reason!"

She slammed her hand against the wall beside my head. Dust trickled down.

"You were the only one I trusted. The only one who stayed when this guild was nothing but a basement office. And you just... left."

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Wait.

Back up.

The System said I was a traitor. She said I stole from the vault and went to a rival guild.

But look at her. She wasn't acting like a Guild Master who lost an employee. She was acting like a lover who found a Dear John letter.

The original owner... Han Si-woo.

Why did he leave?

If he wanted money, he would have left years ago when the guild was small. If he was a spy, he wouldn't have been caught so easily on camera.

The System, helpful as ever, slid in a new line.

[HINT: WHATEVER YOU SAY WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU IN THE COURT OF LOVE~]

I ignored it.

Think.

She hadn’t killed me. She’d healed me.

Her eyes, haunted and furious, said “closure” the loudest.

“Eun-ha,” I said.

"I was tired," I said. It was the safest lie. "I just wanted... to stop."

"Stop?" She repeated the word blankly.

"The fighting. The dungeons. The politics. I wanted a normal life."

It was the truth, in a way. It was my wish, after all.

Cha Eun-ha stared at me. The anger in her eyes flickered, replaced by something far more unsettling.

Confusion. Then realization. Then... guilt?

She stepped back, her hand dropping from my face.

"Tired?" she whispered. "Because of the work?"

"Sure. Let's go with that."

She turned away, running a hand through her messy hair. She started pacing the small room, muttering to herself.

"Tired... of course. It makes sense. I poured everything on you."

She stopped pacing and looked at me. The dead look in her eyes was gone, replaced by a frantic, burning intensity.

"You didn't go to Black Sun to join them," she said. It wasn't a question. She was building a narrative in her head, brick by twisted

brick. "You went there to make me hate you. To make sure I wouldn't come looking for you."

I hadn't said that. I hadn't even implied that.

"Uh, that's a bit of a leap—" I started.

"You accessed the vault," she continued, her voice gaining speed.

"But nothing was missing. You just triggered the alarms. You wanted to be branded a traitor so you could disappear. Because you were burning out, and you knew I wouldn't let you retire if you just asked."

She looked at me with horror.

"You tried to destroy your own reputation just to escape the workload I gave you."

I blinked.

That... actually sounded plausible. And tragic. It painted me as a martyr rather than a snake.

"Well," I said, trying to look appropriately misunderstood. "I didn't think you'd catch me this fast."

Cha Eun-ha let out a shaky breath.

She walked back to me. Her expression had softened, but the mana pressure around her hadn't decreased. If anything, it felt more

suffocating.

“You always do this,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Turn everything into a joke.” Her lips trembled, then flattened. “Like that makes it better.”

I shut up.

She blew out a slow breath, like she was steadying herself before walking into a dungeon.

“You know what I think?” she asked.

“Enlighten me.”

“I think I ruined you.”

That… was not the line I expected.

I blinked.

“You what?”

“I pushed you too hard.” She was looking somewhere just to my left now, not quite able to hold my gaze. The mana around her frayed, like smoke in a draft. “No promotion. No raise. Extra raids. Paperwork. Babysitting rookies who couldn’t tie their boots.”

I recalled the System note. Guild Master. Relationship: Complicated.

Ah. Jealous boss.

“You were the only one I could trust to clean up after them,” she said. “So I kept giving it to you. And you took it. Every time. You didn’t complain, you didn’t push back, so I—”

Her hand tightened around the hilt again. The metal creaked.

“So I thought it was fine.”

She met my eyes at last.

“It must have been suffocating.”

I stared at her.

She genuinely believed that.

Not that I’d betrayed her for better pay, or prestige, or some lofty ideology.

No. In her head, this was about her.

Her insecurity. Her jealousy. Her fear that if she gave me too much, I’d fly away.

She thought I’d left because she treated me like shit to keep me.

Good. Great. Fantastic.

She reached out and touched the burn wound on my shoulder. A soft green light emanated from her palm—healing magic. The pain vanished instantly.