TE 18

A flower similar to the rose, the so-called queen of flowers, with its equally crimson petals, appeared simply beautiful to those who knew nothing of its true nature.

Yet those who understood the flower’s value would immediately calculate the numbers one could have upon selling, and those who knew its taste would salivate with anticipation.

Bihwa Island, spanning 1,959 square kilometers – the largest island in South Korea – harbored a secret landscape of poppies. Unlike ornamental varieties, these plants bore black spots that deepened their crimson hue, spreading across the landscape as extensively as the island’s famous rapeseed fields

Some foolish individual had purchased what seemed like a useless mountain, yet maintained ruthless control over its access. Clearly, there were secrets that demanded absolute concealment.

CCTV cameras dotted the mountainside with almost obsessive precision, and suspicious individuals appeared to inhabit this seemingly empty terrain. The island’s tourists and residents remained blissfully unaware; the mountain’s secrets carefully guarded.

But the truth of the poppy fields, nestled deep within the mountain, inevitably reached the island’s owner.

The local governor, who had been generously compensated, and the police who had been paid off, had overlooked one critical detail: nothing remained hidden from Kwon Joo-hyuk on Bihwa Island.

The governor’s mouth, purchased with his money, became weightless in Kwon Joo-hyuk’s presence. The drug dealer clearly failed to comprehend the significance of being labeled “Bihwa Island’s owner.”

“Preparations are complete,” a voice reported.

The poppy’s distinctive scent dissolved beneath the sharp odor of gasoline. Kwon Joo-hyuk made no specific instruction, merely gesturing. Song, his long-time assistant, immediately retrieved a lighter from his semi-formal jacket pocket.

Click.

The silver lighter’s flame danced, and Joo-hyuk’s eyes overlaid the fire with the poppy field, his voice unexpectedly cheerful.

“This flower is more beautiful,” he remarked, turning to his assistant with a sardonic smile.

“Isn’t that right, Song?”

Understanding that his boss wasn’t truly seeking a response, Song remained silent, his gaze fixed on the poppy field. Joo-hyuk’s attention similarly returned to the landscape – the moment had come to incinerate this impure growth from its very roots.

With a casual motion, he tossed the lit lighter into the poppy field. The crimson landscape was instantaneously consumed by an even more brilliant red.

What had moments ago appeared peaceful and beautiful transformed into an inferno.

Observing the hellish flames with satisfaction, Joo-hyuk was interrupted by Song’s query.

“What are your next plans?”

“Hmm… well.”

Pretending to contemplate, he touched his chin. His earlier amusement slowly faded, replaced by a more calculated expression.

“I’ll head to Seoul first.”

Someone had dared to plant this on his land. Someone who mistakenly believed themselves beyond consequence. But anger would solve nothing – for now, he would savor his meticulously crafted destruction.

The flames’ sparks leaped like luminous butterflies against the night sky – beautiful, almost mesmerizing in their dance.

“Like butterflies,” he murmured.

The burning embers rose, momentarily transforming into something ethereal – something he could almost possess.

“What…?”

***

—A caterpillar emerging into the world seeks flower buds. It feeds within these buds, finding shelter and protection. Simply put, the flower bud becomes a safe haven for a caterpillar dreaming of becoming a butterfly.”

The documentary, titled “A Journey to Becoming a Butterfly,” played against the backdrop of Seo-ha’s carefully controlled world. Her father’s media restrictions meant documentaries about nature and animals were her only window to the outside world. He scrutinized every book, every piece of content that might reach his children.

Fairy tales were forbidden – they might offer inappropriate lessons. Literary novels were banned – lest they inspire philosophical thinking. Religious texts were a minefield. The Bible was acceptable, but interpretive religious texts were strictly off-limits. Any pastor other than her father was considered an agent of Satan.

Dramas and variety shows featuring diverse characters were, of course, completely prohibited.

But today, her father was absent.

Having already broken one taboo, she saw no reason to hesitate about breaking another.

Casting a cautious glance toward the bathroom where Tae-beom was showering, Seo-ha moved like a tentative thief, her fingers trembling slightly as they pressed the remote control.

The screen erupted with unexpected intimacy. A man and woman, barely acquainted, locked in a passionate kiss. The scene resonated with uncomfortable familiarity – reminiscent of her own recent encounters with Tae-beom. Though they hadn’t kissed, the progression felt eerily similar.

—– Mi… Mr. Min-jun,  We’ve only just met…

—– What does the period of time we’ve known each other matter? What’s important is that I was captivated by you from the first moment

“Huh…!”

When she first freely navigated through the channels, Seo-ha found herself transfixed—her eyes and mouth expanding in disbelief at the scene unfolding before her. A man and woman, barely crossing the hotel’s threshold, were entangled in a passionate kiss that seemed to consume the very air around them.

The scene—its setting, lighting, the raw intimacy—echoed with startling precision the memories of her own recent encounter with Tae-bum. Though they had not shared a kiss, the underlying rhythm felt hauntingly familiar. A peculiar embarrassment washed over her, as if someone had captured her own intimate moment and was now displaying it with clinical detachment.

The content was provocative – a narrative of workplace dynamics, an aggressive younger man pursuing a hesitant older woman. For Seo-ha, who had experienced almost nothing beyond her father’s strict control, the scene was electrifyingly foreign.

Seo-ha swallowed hard, her breath catching as she watched the male actor remove his shirt and guide the female lead onto the bed. The background sound of running water—Tae-beom’s shower—had long since faded from her consciousness, her entire focus absorbed by the unfolding drama.

“Is it entertaining?”

Seo-ha hastily changed the channel upon hearing Tae-beom’s voice right behind her, rather than from the male actor on screen.

Tae-beom was more surprised by Seo-ha’s startled reaction to his casual question. He could easily guess why she was so flustered. After all, this drama was rated 12+, so even its most daring scenes were quite tame. It would likely show a gratuitous shirtless scene of the male actor, followed by a kissing scene on the bed, and then cut to them waking up under the covers in the morning.

In other words, it wasn’t the kind of content that should make Moon Seo-ha react so dramatically. At first, Tae-beom was taken aback by her exaggerated response, but then…

“I was just changing channels! I barely saw a few seconds!”

Her intense reaction made this quite amusing.

Though he hadn’t intended to, he now felt like teasing her.

“You’re acting so guilty.”

“N-no! It was just a coincidence! A complete coincidence…!”

“Should I put on an actual erotic movie for you instead?”

“No, thanks!”

Even her indignant response to his mild teasing was entertaining.

Tae-beom couldn’t hold back a smirk, already thinking of what else he could say to provoke Seo-ha. What other comments could he make that would cause her to defend herself so vehemently?

However, that thought was short-lived…

“Do you find it amusing to tease me?!”

The desire to mock Seo-ha wasn’t calculated, but purely for amusement.

“This is really too much…”

It seemed as if he had genuinely offered a sliver of emotion to that woman.

The sex had been entirely intentional, and even sharing the bed afterwards was part of the plan. Because Moon Seo-ha needed to open her heart to him.

However, he didn’t need to open up too.

As this thought crossed his mind, Tae-beom’s urge to play with Seo-ha vanished completely. It was an unnecessary step.

Tae-bum’s approach was deliberate, his movements carrying an intimate familiarity that spoke of their recent encounter. His hand settled on Seo-ha’s shoulder with calculated precision—not quite a caress, not quite a claim, but something that existed in the liminal space between intimacy and control.

“I just… can’t see things like this at home…” Seo-ha mumbled, her explanation emerging like a defensive reflex. The words hung in the air, fragile and unconvincing.

Tae-bum’s proximity was a language of its own. The dampness of his shower-warmed skin, the loosely draped shower gown—each element a subtle provocation. His fingers traced the edge of her sweater’s sleeve, a touch so light it was almost a suggestion rather than physical contact.

“Such a good daughter,” he murmured, the words landing with calculated softness. “Always listening to her father.”

“…I have no choice but to listen.”

Tae-beom’s hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, now caressed the sleeve of the sweater Seo-ha had put back on. The touch seemed as if it might slip under her clothes at any moment, making Seo-ha acutely aware. She now knew how those hands could touch her, how exquisite the pleasure they could bring.

However, today wasn’t a day for anything more. A glance at the clock made that clear.

She needed to go to church.

Rising from the sofa, Seo-ha’s movement was a mixture of deliberation and barely concealed anxiety. Tae-bum, sensing the shift, redirected their interaction with practiced ease.

It was just as Tae-beom was preparing to dry his hair for the arrival of the “Holy Woman” revered by the pseudo-religious cult followers.

“I… I don’t know how to do it,” Seo-ha mumbled hesitantly.

On the surface, it was an innocuous statement, hardly worth noting. Yet, Tae-beom sensed something peculiar in Seo-ha’s words, an undercurrent of naivety that sparked his curiosity.

“You’re an adult, right? Just register your card,” he suggested, his tone casual but his mind alert.

Seo-ha’s eyes widened with genuine surprise. “Adults can use those?”

Tae-beom’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have a card?”

“Well, I do, but… it’s my father’s,” she replied, her voice trailing off uncertainly.

Something felt off. Their conversation seemed to dance around each other, never quite aligning. Tae-beom could sense the dissonance, but couldn’t quite put his finger on what was amiss.

“Moon Seo-ha,” he said, deciding to abandon subtlety for a more direct approach.

“Why do you think people use condoms during sex?”

Seo-ha’s face scrunched up in concentration, clearly struggling with this unexpected question. “Well… isn’t it to make it less painful?” she ventured, her voice small and unsure.

It was a challenging quiz for Seo-ha, and her answer was as incorrect as it was revealing.

“Then… why were you worried about the condom breaking?” Tae-beom pressed, his suspicions growing.

“Because you put it on from the start… I thought it was just something you had to do,” Seo-ha explained, her words tumbling out in a rush. “And it’s slippery, so I figured it must make things less painful…”

Tae-beom fell silent, the implications of Seo-ha’s innocence dawning on him with alarming clarity. In that moment, he realized the depth of her naivety and the potential dangers it posed in their current situation.

‘I thought she was worried about contraception when she expressed concern about the condom breaking. Now I realize she was actually worried about her own discomfort if I didn’t wear one.’

Tae-beom looked at Seo-ha, slightly bewildered and lost in thought. For a brief moment, he even questioned if Moon Seo-ha might have a lower cognitive ability.

They said she was homeschooled, but it seems they completely neglected sex education.

No, it wasn’t just a matter of sex education.

She doesn’t know the purpose of condoms, uses her father’s credit card without having one in her own name, and can’t even use basic websites that everyone else uses. At this rate, she probably wouldn’t even know how to go to a bank and open an account in her own name.

“’I thought I was enjoying time with a mature woman, but…”

Tae-beom fell silent, his assumptions shattered.

“…..”

“’It turns out I was doing it with a child who didn’t actually know anything.”

Seo-ha’s expression darkened as she misinterpreted Tae-beom’s words. As she anxiously studied his face, sinking into feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness, Tae-beom chose not to comfort her.

He struggled to contain the elation bubbling up inside him.

If he opened his mouth to feign consolation, he feared his sinister thoughts would spill out unfiltered.

“Are you angry?” Seo-ha asked timidly.

“I’m not angry,” Tae-beom replied, his tone measured.

Angry? Far from it.

If anything, it was quite the opposite.

You’re so innocent, and I’m your first.

My precious lady, there’s so much for you to learn.

That’s why you fall for me so easily.

And why you’ll be so easy to manipulate in the future.

“From now on, if there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask me,” Tae-beom said, suppressing a smile that threatened to break through.

“…”

“I’ll teach you everything.”

He spoke with feigned kindness, and Seo-ha, finally reassured, nodded awkwardly with a smile. Her attitude was one of complete trust, devoid of any suspicion.

For Tae-beom, it was merely a physical encounter, but for a woman who had never experienced any kind of relationship in her life, this seemingly insignificant intimacy held great meaning.

All of this was thanks to Moon Seok-ho, who had raised his daughter to be so naive.

While Tae-beom usually despised Moon Seok-ho enough to want to kill him at every moment, in this instance, he felt a tiny spark of gratitude towards the man.

For giving birth to such a beautiful daughter, and raising her to be so delightfully clueless.