The Duke’s Obsession Leads to a Death Flag

“Come here so I can apply the medicine.”

The child, who had gone to wash his hands after finishing his meal, turned around. His flame-colored eyes wavered greatly when he noticed the disinfectant and ointment neatly placed in front of me.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and come here.”

I gestured to the child, who, despite having already washed his hands, was hesitating pointlessly in front of the sink. The moment my eyebrow arched slightly, signaling impatience, the child, who had clearly been reluctant, obediently walked over.

“Take off your shirt.”

“…This is hard.”

The child tapped the buttons on his shirt as he spoke. No matter how many times I had taught him how to fasten and unfasten buttons, he still struggled with precise, delicate tasks.

Of course, it would be quicker if I just did it for him, but I refused to. He was already ten years old—how could he still not button his own shirt? If I indulged him now, there would be no end to his dependency. Small things like this, he needed to handle himself.

“Even if it’s difficult, give it a try.”

“I don’t want to.”

The child muttered, pouting his lips. After fidgeting with the buttons for a while, he gave up without even really trying and glanced at me. I deliberately turned my head away, pretending not to see the silent plea in his eyes.

For a long moment, he simply toyed with his collar before finally giving up on waiting for my help. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Ugh…”

With trembling hands, he managed to undo the first button with great effort. Encouraged by his initial success, he moved on to the next, lowering his hands to work on it. With each successfully unfastened button, his confidence grew.

Although he struggled with the last one, he ultimately managed to remove his shirt without issue. Holding the fully unbuttoned shirt in his hands, he proudly showed it to me.

His eyes sparkled expectantly, clearly waiting for praise. It was amusing how something so small could bring him such joy. Holding back my laughter, I granted him the words he wanted to hear.

“Good job.”

As I patted his head, his cheeks flushed red, and he gave a shy smile. Just a few days ago, he had recoiled in disgust from my touch, but now we had grown close enough that he accepted it. The realization left a warm, ticklish feeling in my chest.

“Now, shall we start the treatment?”

I soaked a towel thoroughly with disinfectant, signaling the beginning of the process. The child, who had been hugging his damp shirt with satisfaction, immediately stiffened when he saw the towel in my hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I grabbed the child’s arm as he tried to sneak away. His face turned deathly pale as he shook his head frantically. At first, he had endured everything without a single complaint, but at some point, he had become a complete crybaby.

No, he had always hated pain. He had just been pretending to be tough in front of strangers. How very childlike.

“You need to disinfect the wound and apply medicine.”

“But that hurts.”

Seeing the child’s horrified reaction, I pretended to give up on the treatment. Then, the moment he let his guard down, I swiftly wiped his wound with the towel. His body stiffened, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Does it hurt?”

The child hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. So, it didn’t hurt. Even though he hadn’t said anything, I had been worried. Thankfully, it seemed unnecessary. After all, I didn’t want to cause him pain.

“It’s healed a lot.”

I couldn’t say it was completely fine, but the wounds had certainly improved. There were no longer any deep injuries exposing raw flesh.

After wiping away all the dirt, I applied ointment over the cleaned wounds. Every time my fingers gently rubbed the medicine in, the child’s shoulders flinched.

“Who taught you how to speak?”

He seemed too tense, so I asked a question to distract him. His tightly shut eyes cracked open slightly, and he answered in a trembling voice.

“Se-yeon.”

That name suited District 5 more than District 1. Was he someone who had left his district to work as a butler somewhere? I tried to imagine what kind of person this “Se-yeon” was.

Short, round-faced, kind, with a gentle and warm demeanor—something like that.

“Was he your nanny?”

“No. He was the one who gave birth to me.”

My fingers, which had been applying ointment, froze at the unexpected answer.

As far as I knew, the one who had given birth to this child was a male omega. It was surprising enough that Se-yeon was a man, but the fact that he was that omega…

The child noticed my silence and seemed to ponder something for a moment before continuing in a steadier voice.

“Se-yeon was a man. He… said he was an omega. But I don’t really understand. People said that was something filthy and disgusting.”

“They called it filthy and disgusting?”

The child nodded. I was aware that the new human species were treated poorly in this world, but I hadn’t expected people to openly spew such vile words in front of a child.

The reality must have been even crueler. Not just for Se-yeon, but for the child born from him as well. I could already imagine the kind of treatment he must have endured.

“So, where is Se-yeon now?”

“He’s dead.”

Because the child spoke so calmly, it took me a moment to fully grasp the meaning of his words. Se-yeon was dead. The one who had given birth to him was dead.

The child’s voice as he spoke of death was chillingly devoid of emotion.

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you suddenly asking if I’m okay?”

The child tilted his head in curiosity. His crimson eyes held not a trace of sorrow. I quickly brushed it off, mumbling that it was nothing.

There were so many things this child didn’t know—perhaps death was one of them. But I had no desire to explain it. There was no need to bring up the past and trouble him with it.

“Oh, right. I have something for you.”

To break the heavy silence that lingered even after the treatment, I changed the subject. The child, who had been grimacing from the sticky sensation of the ointment on his skin, brightened at my words.

As he watched with eager anticipation, I turned toward him and, with a dramatic ta-da, pulled something out of my bag. His eyes filled with curiosity when he saw my hands full of batteries.

“What’s this?”

“Batteries.”

“Batteries?”

A child who didn’t even know how to open a lid or button his shirt wouldn’t know what a battery was. At this point, I wasn’t even surprised. I simply retrieved a lantern and demonstrated its use.

“If you put them in here and turn it on… there.”

Click. With a press of the switch, the lantern lit up brightly. The once dim surroundings instantly became clear, revealing the shabby interior of the storage room in sharp detail.

“Wow!”

The child clutched the lantern in his arms, exclaiming in awe. Seeing him genuinely delighted made me feel oddly pleased as well. Though, of course, the butler back at the mansion would probably be mourning the sudden disappearance of the precious batteries.

The child repeatedly flipped the switch on and off. Click, click. The flickering lights made the room flash like a chaotic nightclub, constantly shifting the visibility of our surroundings. It was dizzying.

“Uh, hey…”

I subtly nudged him, waiting for at least a simple ‘thank you.’ But he was too enthralled by the lantern to notice me at all.

Hmm-hmm. I cleared my throat pointedly. Only then did the child pause, switch the lantern off, and look up at me. His crimson eyes, still curved in a bright smile, shimmered with lingering excitement.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“Something to say?”

The child blinked at me with wide eyes. Maybe I had been too vague. I decided to give him a hint.

“You know, like… your honest thoughts about me bringing you the batteries, or something like that.”

By now, any ordinary person would have caught on, but this child remained frustratingly unpredictable. He fidgeted, unsure of what to say, and I realized getting a thank-you out of him would be impossible.

“Forget it. If you don’t know, you don’t have to say anything.”

I quickly abandoned any hope of hearing gratitude. It wasn’t like I had brought the batteries just to be thanked. Fishing for appreciation was the pettiest thing one could do.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“…You’re not messing with me, are you?”

At this point, I started to wonder if the kid was just playing dumb to tease me. But no matter how much I doubted him, his wide, innocent eyes held not a single hint of deception.

So, he really didn’t know.

“Try saying, ‘Thank you.'”

“Thank you?”

“Yeah, ‘Thank you.'”

“Thank you.”

The child mimicked me like a parrot. It was far from the usual way people expressed gratitude, but for now, it was enough. My irritation melted away instantly.

“I have a question.”

“A question?”

The child nodded. I had no idea what he was about to ask, but he looked a bit nervous. Avoiding eye contact, he fidgeted before finally lowering his head and mumbling,

“What… should I call you?”

Only then did I realize we hadn’t even introduced ourselves properly. Considering how recently he had started speaking, it made sense that we hadn’t had many chances to call each other by name.

Still, I should’ve told him my name the moment we met. I had completely forgotten.

Just as I was about to give him my belated introduction, I instinctively stopped myself from saying Jung I-hyun and instead gave him the name I used now.

“Han Seo-yul. That’s my name.”

“Han Seo-yul…”

The child repeated my name slowly, savoring each syllable like he was tasting them. His lips, soft as flower petals, parted slightly, revealing a flash of red tongue between them. For some reason, the sight left me feeling oddly flustered.

Wanting to shift the mood, I threw the same question back at him.

“Then, what should I call you?”

“Bug.”