The Duke’s Obsession Leads to a Death Flag

Prologue

“Ahhh-!”

On a night when unease kept me from sleep, a short scream echoed from somewhere. It was the seventh day since Han Jae-hoon had left the mansion for reasons unknown.

“That was a scream, wasn’t it?”

I didn’t miss the fleeting sound and, with a face drained of color, hurriedly put on the cardigan draped over my chair.

Looking out the window, I saw that the moon was half-covered by an unnatural shadow. Could today be the day described in the original story—‘the day half of humanity’s moon disappeared’?

“Please… let it not be.”

I desperately prayed to an unknown god that it was merely a passing gust of anxiety before following the sound and stepping outside.

As I moved down the dark corridor and neared the first floor, the whispers grew clearer. Just as I was about to carefully descend the last few steps—slap! A sharp, brutal impact shattered the silence of the wide space.

Startled by the chilling sound, I quickly extinguished the gas lamp and hid myself in a safe spot. Cautiously peeking below the railing, I saw Han Jae-hoon standing amid a gathering of servants under the dim, flickering light.

Of all times, Han Jae-hoon had to return on ‘the day humanity’s moon was halved’—a bad omen.

“Bring it here.”

At his cold command, the servants dragged something across the floor and threw it down. Though its face was obscured by Han Jae-hoon’s back, the moment I saw the unusually small hands, I realized—it was a little child.

“P-Please, I was wrong. Hic… Please spare me. I don’t want to die. Please, I beg you.”

Despite the child’s desperate pleas, not a single person in the room reacted. Han Jae-hoon, watching the child with emotionless eyes, raised the whip high in his hand—only to suddenly lock eyes with me, hidden behind the railing.

Countless thoughts flashed through our gazes in that brief moment. After a short silence, Han Jae-hoon swiftly erased his terrifying expression, replacing it with a gentle smile. I rubbed my eyes as if I had just woken up.

“Ah, little one, did the noise wake you?”

“Mm.”

“I’m sorry. It’ll be quiet soon, so just wait a little.”

Han Jae-hoon discreetly hid the whip behind his back, then gave a subtle signal to the servant closest to the stairs, instructing them to take me away.

“Sir Seo-yul, it’s time for bed.”

“It was too loud…”

“It’ll be quiet soon.”

A servant quickly ascended the stairs, gently pushing me toward my room. I deliberately slowed my steps, pretending to still be half-asleep.

As I climbed higher, my elevated vantage point gradually revealed the child who had been hidden behind Han Jae-hoon.

A small, limp hand. A tiny face. And striking, blood-red hair.

The moment I saw those vivid strands, I recognized him instantly.

In this world, only two people possessed such brilliantly burning hair.

Luis Shining, the head of District 1.

And the mad slaughterer who would one day destroy this very District 5 where I now stood.

“Vincent Shining…”

Roughly ten years left.

A sudden death flag had been planted, marking the beginning of my countdown to the grave.

***

1. A Possession Without Any Buffs

A few years ago, I suffered a severe fever of unknown origin. The servants said I had always been frail, but never before had I fallen this ill—so much so that everyone expected me to die.

Han Jae-hoon, already having lost his wife and now facing the impending death of his son, was out of his mind with grief. He summoned the most renowned doctors from all over the district, desperate to save me.

But as my condition worsened, the exhausted doctors all gave up, eventually declaring that I had, at most, six months left to live.

Han Jae-hoon despaired, and the mansion was shrouded in sorrow. Even with his and the servants’ devoted care, I lived as nothing more than a breathing corpse—until, miraculously, I survived.

And that was the very moment I possessed Han Seo-yul.

‘Where… am I?’

Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, my mind reeled in confusion. But then, I caught sight of the vividly bright moon hanging outside the window—even in the middle of the day—and the towering walls enclosing the estate. That was when I realized: this place was the world of Mad Love, the novel I had read before falling asleep.

Moreover, the body I had possessed belonged to none other than Han Seo-yul, the son of District 5’s ruler, Han Jae-hoon—the very district that would one day be annihilated by Vincent Shining.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me. Mad Love?’

Mad Love.

It was a novel I stumbled upon while browsing the internet—a true, unfiltered descent into depravity, notorious for its extreme brutality and disturbing content.

Captivated by its dystopian setting—where half of humanity had perished due to the fallen moon and morality had been utterly obliterated—I was drawn into Mad Love and devoured it in one sitting.

Most of the characters in this world were insane, but the protagonist, Vincent Shining, stood in a league of his own.

With his blood-red hair and eyes, he was known as the Bloody Tyrant—a name he lived up to with relentless savagery, ruthlessly eliminating anyone who stood in his way.

His hobby? Shooting.

For leisure, he often indulged in hunting—but the problem was, his prey was never animals. It was always people.

With his lifeless crimson eyes, he would take aim at his target and pull the trigger without a shred of hesitation.

He was the embodiment of quiet, unrelenting madness.

But as the saying goes, there’s no lunatic without a story. Vincent Shining became the madman he was due to an unbearably tragic childhood.

Born as the illegitimate child of Luis Shining, the ruler of District 1, from an Omega—a member of the so-called New Humanity—Vincent was deemed an impure existence.

He wasn’t even given a name.

When he turned ten, Luis Shining decided to “dispose” of him, sending him to District 5 as a gift—a disposable hostage meant for venting frustrations.

At the time, relations between District 1 and District 5 were at an all-time low, and Han Jae-hoon, filled with resentment, took his rage out on the gifted child.

Vincent was abandoned in an isolated storage room, completely neglected for five years.

In the novel, this period is glossed over in just a few lines of narration, but it was during those five years that Vincent developed the deep-seated trauma that would one day lead to the downfall of District 5, as well as the deaths of both Luis Shining and Han Jae-hoon.

It was a tragedy set in stone.

Eventually, Vincent ascended as the ruler of District 1, then conquered all five districts—marking the end of Part 1.

And that was as far as I knew.

The story continued in Part 2, where Vincent, now the Supreme Leader of all districts, met and fell in love with Choi Yeo-min—a seemingly typical romance… except Choi Yeo-min wasn’t a woman.

I had been drawn to Mad Love for its unique dystopian setting and Vincent Shining’s compelling character arc.

I never expected it to be an R-19 hardcore BL novel.

No wonder it kept throwing around confusing terms like Alpha and Omega.

Determined to finish what I started, I forced myself through Part 2, enduring Choi Yeo-min’s introduction and their developing romance—until I finally gave up, overwhelmed by discomfort, and set my phone down with a sigh.

That was my last memory as Jung I-hyun—tossing and turning in bed, closing my eyes for a moment.

When I opened them again, I was Han Seo-yul.

Possessing the body of a complete stranger was utter chaos at first.

I couldn’t even remember my own name, throwing the entire mansion into disarray.

Han Jae-hoon was so devastated that he cried himself unconscious.

Well, that was all years ago now—just another part of my past.

***

Breakfast was the same as always.

As if the chaos of last night had all been just a dream, Han Jae-hoon, the servants who had been there, and everything else—except for me—remained perfectly at peace.

This doesn’t make sense.

I sneaked a glance at Han Jae-hoon, who sat at the head of the table. Unlike me, whose bowl was still half full, he had already finished his meal and was reading the morning newspaper.

Noticing my gaze, he adjusted the glasses perched on his nose and looked up. When our eyes met, he gave me a gentle smile—the same warm expression he always wore.

“Little one, do you have no appetite?”

He set the newspaper aside and focused entirely on me. I lowered my spoon, which I had been stirring meaninglessly, and forced a faint smile.

“Just a little…”

“You’re not feeling unwell, are you?”

The concern in Han Jae-hoon’s face made last night’s events resurface in my mind.

The man who had cruelly tormented a child with an unfamiliar coldness—was the same person now looking at me with such kindness?

They’re too different.

Between these two drastically contrasting personas, I couldn’t decide which was the real Han Jae-hoon.

The Han Jae-hoon I had read about in the novel was cold and calculating, yet the one I had observed for years was nothing like that.

Honestly, I was confused.

“I’m fine. I just don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Still, should I call the doctor just in case?”

Han Jae-hoon, unable to let go of his worries, moved as if to summon the physician.

Once he started worrying, he was relentless. His overprotectiveness when it came to me was extreme—once he got going, he wouldn’t stop easily.

Knowing that simply saying I’m okay wouldn’t convince him, I had no choice but to pick up my spoon again.

“The porridge tastes good.”

As I forced myself to eat the now-cold porridge, Han Jae-hoon’s expression softened once more.

And so, I had to finish every last bite under his watchful gaze.

“Good boy, my little one.”

Han Jae-hoon checked my empty bowl, then patted my head with a well done.

Skipping breakfast once wasn’t the end of the world, but Han Jae-hoon always made a fuss over things like this.

As I watched his hand ruffle my hair before pulling away, I noticed a fresh wound I hadn’t seen before.

A long, thin gash—one that looked as if it had been made by a whip.

Right. Last night, Han Jae-hoon was holding a whip.

“Father, your hand is injured.”

I grabbed his hand and feigned concern, deliberately bringing up the wound.

For the briefest moment, I saw surprise flicker across his face, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by his usual calm expression.

“Hm, I hadn’t even realized I was hurt.”

It was clear he wanted to keep last night’s events hidden.

Whether it was because of his overprotectiveness—his desire to show me only the good things in life—or because the child’s existence needed to remain a secret, I wasn’t sure.

But one thing was certain—this conversation made him uncomfortable.

“You should get that treated—”

“I’ll take care of it myself, so there’s no need to worry.”

Han Jae-hoon cut me off with a gentle yet firm tone, an awkward smile on his face as he rose from his seat.

It was his way of signaling that he wanted this conversation to end.

“Then, have a good day.”

Folding his newspaper in half and tucking it under his arm, Han Jae-hoon gave my shoulder a reassuring pat.

I watched as he quickly disappeared down the hall, my thoughts already set.

I needed to go check the west storage room—immediately.