That night, Kian, who returned to the villa in Trillian, lay in bed, tossing and turning.
It was late at night, so the villa was still. Only the sound of the waves rushing in and out of the water was heard regularly.
He got up and walked to the window.
The sea seen through the open window was calm as if nothing had happened.
I still couldn’t believe it.
I thought I’d never see her again…
He recalled the moment Olivia had broken through the door.
I never thought she’d come to find me.
Even going so far as to jump directly into a pirate-infested ship…?
Isn’t it crazy? A master who takes risks to save a slave.
It’s unimaginable, but she’s been surprising since we first met.
She was fundamentally different from my other owners.
Maybe that’s why…?
Until now, I was indifferent if my owner changed, but when I thought I was breaking up with her, I couldn’t stand it.
Without realizing it, her presence was too large within him.
She looked at him as if she were looking at the most precious thing.
Besides, she often seemed blind to others or to conventions as if she could do anything for him.
At one time, Kian had tried to find out the reason for Olivia’s kindness.
And I wondered why she bought me. But now, the reason why I came here was irrelevant; I like being with her.
I had gotten used to her kindness and couldn’t imagine living the way I used to.
Once I had tasted her sweetness—like an exquisite candy—I could not forget it.
Knowing that taste, it was impossible to return to the same painful life I had led before.
Once breathing, you don’t want to go back to a dead life.
And she colored this gray life.
It was at that moment, Kian had a clear and stunning realization.
The sound of the machine running, rattled, constantly rang in the factory.
All of the workers with exhausted expressions stood in front of the spinning machine and were pulling white and fine threads.
“Little” Tom, a child who worked at the Ashford spinning factory, had a bad fever the day before yesterday.
However, there was no way he could pay for a hospital bill, so he had beared the pain and had come to work.
Even today, his fever showed no sign of abating, so Tom’s hand on the spinning machine slowed down.
“Why is this guy so sluggish?”
It was James Ashford, the factory’s boss. He slapped Tom.
“Sorr— I’m sorry………”
Terrified, Tom’s shoulders trembled as he asked for forgiveness.
But James was not amused or appeased. He said, pulling the tip of his lips straight.
“I get angry when I see guys who are lazy like you and trying to make money easily.”
The child screamed in pain.
James struck the child with the stick, hitting Tom’s skinny body.
His slender limbs were quickly bruised.
When no one could stop James, someone bravely stepped up.
It was a young woman named Anna, a female employee at the Ashford spinning mill.
“Get out of here!”
Anna looked at Tom, who had fallen, not worrying about James’ rampage.
She was startled by the hotness of the child’s body like an iron kettle on the fire.
She said urgently:
“His fever is severe. If he doesn’t see the doctor right away, the child will be in danger.”
But James wasn’t interested in the child’s critical condition.
He was only interested in workers working without wasting a second and earning him more money.
“There are plenty of people who need work and can take his job. It’s none of my business whatever happens to him.”
Even though people’s lives are unpredictable and need flexibility and compassion, James’ attitude was relentlessly cold and unfeeling.
Anna couldn’t understand how a person could say such a thing.
She clasped Tom’s little hand.
The child’s finger, which should be soft, was so overworked that instead they were covered with calluses.
An eight-year old child working 15 hours a day for ridiculously low pay—he was virtually a slave.
“Who said it was okay to rest? Your superior never said you could!”
James started to scold the workers who had paused and watched the spectacle.
“You are machines, not humans! Remember that as you work!”
Anna clenched her fist, trembling with anger.
Yes, there was little difference between their lives and the life of a slave, but they were still human!
Being poor wasn’t enough of a reason to be treated as subhuman.
They were not beings that can be used and discarded like consumables!
I’ll let the trash scumbag boss have a piece of my mind!
Anna pulled out the hammer she had hidden under the workbench, avoiding the supervisor’s eyes.
She hit the machine as hard as she could with the hammer. (*fangirls*)
“W—what are you doing!”
But Anna, ignoring James’ scream, continued to break the machine.
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