𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛 / 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

S2 ch 56

Jiwon paced around his room, the same four walls he'd been staring at for what felt like an eternity. "Rafayel, let me roam around, please," he pleaded, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and desperation. He had been confined to this space for far too long, and his patience was wearing thin.

Rafayel, standing near the door with his arms crossed, sighed deeply. "No. It's not safe."

But Jiwon wasn't one to give up easily. He asked again. And again. And again. His persistence was relentless, chipping away at Rafayel’s resolve until, finally, with an exasperated groan, Rafayel gave in.

"Fine," he snapped. "But you're going to have a guard with you at all times. And you are not—under any circumstances—allowed near the boats or the sea. Got it?"

Jiwon grinned. "Got it."

Stepping outside was a relief. The salty breeze kissed his skin, and the sun warmed his face. But his freedom was short-lived—his guard, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a permanent scowl, shadowed his every move. Jiwon felt like a child on a leash.

As the day wore on, Rafayel had to meet with his father, which meant all the guards were given strict orders to keep an eye on Jiwon. The island was vast, a sprawling paradise with sandy beaches, towering cliffs, and even a dense forest in the distance. But none of it felt truly accessible—not with his babysitter always looming nearby.

Jiwon wandered aimlessly, searching for something, anything, to entertain himself. He offered to help the workers, but they all refused. No one wanted his assistance, not even outside. There was no one to talk to, and the TV inside the estate had nothing but dull channels he couldn’t care less about. Boredom clawed at him, and he needed to do something—anything—to shake things up.

A mischievous grin curled his lips. If he couldn’t have fun normally, he’d have to make his own entertainment.

He started small. Fake traps—branches arranged on the ground to look suspicious, strings tied between trees to create the illusion of tripwires. The guards fell for them every time, stepping cautiously over harmless twigs or calling in backup to investigate nothing at all. The paranoia on their faces was priceless.

Then he upped the ante. Hiding. He would slip behind trees, dart around corners, and disappear behind furniture. The guards would scramble, calling his name, checking behind every bush and rock. And he would just sit in the shadows, watching them panic, biting back laughter.

One afternoon, he climbed into a tree, perching on a thick branch as he watched the guards below. They searched for him frantically, calling out, their faces twisted with frustration. He sat there, silent, unmoving, until one of them happened to glance up and nearly jumped out of his skin. The guard shouted, pointing wildly, and the others came running. Jiwon just grinned down at them. "Took you long enough."

By the end of the day, Rafayel returned to find his men exhausted and frazzled, muttering about how Jiwon was nothing short of a menace.

Rafayel pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "Jiwon. What the hell did you do?"

Jiwon just shrugged, the picture of innocence. "Nothing much. I'm just having fun."

Rafayel shot him a glare, but Jiwon knew he wasn’t really mad. Maybe just a little. But mostly? He was impressed. And that was enough to make all the mischief worth it.

But Jiwon wasn't done yet. If he could tease the guards, why not Rafayel too?

The next morning, he made it his mission to push Rafayel to his limit. He started with little things—swapping his coffee with salt, moving his papers just enough to be annoying, pretending not to hear when Rafayel spoke to him. The small irritations built up, and Jiwon could see the vein in Rafayel’s temple twitch every time he smirked.