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~Chapter 2~
I always knew Edell was no ordinary child.
From the very moment I rescued him, his gaze had been sharp with suspicion and hostility. Perhaps that was natural—he was a stranger in a strange place, with no memory of who he was.
“Is this really where people live? I can’t possibly be a beggar… Was I picked up by one?”
He was, frankly, insufferable.
He was arrogant and haughty, his manner more befitting the spoiled youngest son of a chaebol family. Even when I presented him with a carefully prepared meal, he scoffed, “Am I expected to live off this from now on?”
Yet, perhaps through sheer persistence, I managed to win a sliver of his trust.
“Edell, could you stop calling me ‘hey’ or ‘you’ and start calling me ‘Sister’ instead?”
“I suppose I have no choice. With the body of a memory-less child, there’s not much I can do, and the only one who feeds me is you, Sister.”
But truthfully, it wasn’t trust. He was simply coldly assessing his circumstances and making the best of his situation.
He was calculating—more like a grown man battered by the world than a child.
Once, when I shared food with a child begging in the street, Edell looked at me as though I were mad.
“Why would you give your food to someone else?”
“He’s still growing, he needs to eat well.”
“And what do you gain from that? Are you trying to get even poorer?”
I wanted to snap back that raising a glutton like him brought me no benefit either… But I was an adult who knew when to hold her tongue.
Edell only sighed, muttering in disapproval,
“He’ll only grow up to be a criminal.”
What kind of upbringing had he received to possess such beliefs so young?
Until then, I’d simply thought him a spoiled, overindulged rich boy.
But that changed the day I watched him observe a vagrant struck by a carriage—his face utterly expressionless.
Any adult would have been shocked or alarmed by such a sight.
But Edell, despite witnessing the accident unfold before his eyes, was eerily calm.
“Edell, are you in shock?”
He merely shook his head, face blank.
“Why should I be? If you’re useless, you’re naturally weeded out. If he’d been the one in the carriage, he wouldn’t have died.”
His cynical, matter-of-fact gaze sent a chill down my spine.
A child under ten should not have developed such a philosophy on his own. What sort of parents had shaped him into this?
Edell was indifferent to others—beyond indifference, he was nearly devoid of emotion, except for occasional negativity.
As though a part of his soul had been excised.
Of course, I’d met such people before, even in my previous life. They’d been my bosses, my colleagues—souls blunted by modern life.
I resolved to speak with Edell’s family, should I ever find them, about his education.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
This went far beyond bad parenting.
Hidden in the alleyway, I watched with my hand clamped over my mouth, scarcely able to believe what I was seeing.
Edell’s innocent smile now resembled the delight of a child pulling the wings from a dragonfly—pure malice.
A scream split the night as the man was devoured by shadows, his desperate struggle futile.
His outstretched hand vanished into the darkness, leaving not a trace behind.
‘What on earth is happening?’
My face went pale and cold sweat beaded my brow.
‘Edell… is using shadow magic?’
A chill raced down my spine. I had never known he was a mage—he’d never mentioned it, never cast a spell in my presence.
Panting, I somehow stumbled home.
I crawled into bed and pulled the blankets over my head, my heart hammering as my breath came in ragged bursts.
‘Edell is a dark sorcerer!’
In this world, a black mage is one whose heart has been corrupted—whose power has become tainted by evil.
The Black Syndicate, the villains of the original novel led by Yuri Sinclair, were made up of such mages—monsters born of forbidden experiments.
And the power to control shadows, the element of darkness, belonged to the syndicate’s infamous leader—Yuri Sinclair himself.
Wait. Didn’t Yuri Sinclair also have that stunning face, black hair, and those violet eyes?
‘Is he a hidden son?’
No, that couldn’t be. Dark magic isn’t inherited—it’s gained through forbidden rites or the corruption of an existing gift.
Besides, Yuri Sinclair was incapable of love—a creature abandoned by all, betrayed and wounded beyond repair, a villain to the core.
Could Edell actually be Yuri Sinclair, the villain who was executed?
‘But it’s only been two years since the ending…’
Was he not reincarnated, but made young again by some mysterious force?
Or was it just his body that was restored?
“What on earth did I pick up?”
Whatever the truth, it was clear—I was in over my head.
Curled up beneath my blankets, I was still reeling with confusion when the door creaked open. I squeezed my eyes shut and faked sleep, even going so far as to let out a little snore.
“Why do you hog the covers to yourself? You sleep so selfishly.”
His breath brushed my cheek as he muttered. I silently promised to do better in the future.
Once again, he tugged my arm free to use as a pillow.
There is a perfectly good pillow—why does it have to be my arm?
Peeking through narrowed eyes, I studied his face—extraordinary beauty, black hair, violet eyes, the same uncanny powers.
Wasn’t it 99.9% certain he was the villain, Yuri Sinclair?
Did he really remember nothing?
If he did, he’d never tolerate this attic, constantly grumbling about how cramped it was. He’d have no reason to hide his identity from me, no reason not to slip away and rally the dark mages for revenge against the saint and the crown prince.
Perhaps magical ability remains, even when the memory is lost.
What was I to do?
Tormented by fear and worry, I stared into the darkness all night, finally falling asleep as dawn broke.
And then…
In a feverish half-dream, I saw an alluring man with black hair resting his head on my arm. The dream was too vivid to be just a dream.
As soon as our eyes met, his purple eyes curved with dangerous charm.
“Let me use your arm as a pillow.”
His deep, languid voice and lazy smile left me breathless.
I realized at once—he was the adult Edell, the villain Yuri Sinclair of the original novel.
He was even clad in the black uniform described in the story, a silver serpent pin gleaming on his chest—the emblem of the Black Syndicate.
A villain, asking to use my arm as a pillow?
The audacity!
But with a face like that, who could say no?
He was so devastatingly beautiful, I forgot he was supposed to be a cold-blooded monster.
“Ahh! Even if it’s just a dream, I mustn’t fall for a handsome face!”
I woke with a start, throwing off the covers and crying out. Edell, already up and changing his clothes, looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. I forced a bright smile and greeted him.
“Ah, good morning!”
“Wash up. You look like a vagrant from the Seventh District’s riverbank.”
I stared at the ever-insolent Edell in a daze.
Had what I’d seen last night truly happened?
His behavior was as normal as ever, and confusion gnawed at me. I’d loved the villain in the story as a reader—but being tangled up with him in real life was another matter.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, I tried to recall the night’s events.
As far as I’d heard, that middle-aged man had been lurking near our house, knife in hand. Could it be Edell had dealt with every villain who’d come seeking revenge?
Was the shadowy attacker people whispered about actually Edell?
Had he done it to protect me? That ruthless child?
I glanced his way, only to meet his challenging glare.
Maybe what I’d seen last night was only a dream. Maybe Edell had spent the night quietly at my side, and I’d imagined it all.
But my desperate wish to believe in that illusion did not last long.
