Following orders nonstop drained every ounce of energy, revealing the true nature of the creditor also the boss, the father figure, the client, and who knows what else, all rolled into one.
Rock had a single, ironclad logic: obey everything, and it would be fine. But the work of this rich young master never ran out he could always find something to command.
His voice was deep and booming, carrying as if shouted from across a mountain, yet he often used it to issue orders up close. No fear of straining vocal cords, apparently.
It was simple in one way: if instructions were followed immediately, everything ran smoothly. But a delay or refusal unleashed Rock's second, third, fourth round of shouting, spittle flying as he leaned close to bark orders.
It wasn't just shouting, grabbing collars, or shaking people this guy thrived on tormenting. He could invent endless ways to boss someone around like a sadistic genius:
Wanting a seedless dragon fruit, making Star sit and pick out every tiny seed while urging him to hurry.
Holding a phone in one hand while being fed snacks by the other. Exhaustion became life itself; maybe Star dreamed of being disabled to justify this.
Fetching this and that all day, even while already busy with household chores. Once, Star secretly imagined swapping the water in the toilet for the coffee Rock demanded.
If the roles were ever reversed, Star thought about yelling in Rock's face, tugging at his collar, just once.
"Um… Master Rock, how tall are you exactly?" Star asked quietly while peeling shrimp, stealing a small sigh.
"Why the hell are you asking that?" Rock snapped, instant, savage.
"I'm… one sixty-five, weigh forty-eight kilos, but I have to guard someone nearly two meters tall, probably seventy kilos, right?"
Star didn't even know why these thoughts popped out of his head.
"Damn it! First thing you do is be my eyes."
Anyone hearing that might be confused by the wording… eyes? Blind?
"W‑what did you say, sir? Your… eyes… blind?"
Before Star could finish the question, a flick to the forehead sent hair flying in every direction.
POK!
A huge finger, thick as a palm leaf, jabbed the forehead with a loud pop. If the skull had been fragile, it would've been a hole by now. Who dares touch someone else like this with such strength?
Why do people this rich have to be so rough, so brutally sadistic? Why does fate insist on throwing terrible people into life?
"Oww~ what did I do wrong this time?"
"Open your eyes and see. My eyes have been red ever since dodging you in the car. My vision's already short as hell, and now it's blurrier. You're gonna pay for this, idiot!"
Ah, that explains why being close didn't help couldn't even see properly while he kept shouting.
"Why not get LASIK, sir? You've got money one good expensive surgery and it's fixed."
"I'm not doing it. I don't like anyone touching my eyes."
"But you use me to put drops in them all day…"
"You gonna keep talking back, or finish peeling the shrimp?!"
Living with this man was slowly teaching ways to survive. Apparently, the habit of teasing, roughness, and blunt force ran in the family.
"Um… were those Master Rock's parents just now?"
"Yeah!" The sharp reply clipped the air, making Star instinctively duck his head but curiosity lingered. Might be useful to handle the hot-tempered young master.
"They look perfect… like exactly the same, but the personality is… well—"
POK!
Hit again! What the hell Star had been complimenting! Pain shot through the forehead.
"Oww!"
"I told you, don't touch the shrimp!"
A dazed feeling washed over him, like his head might swell. The young master frequently inflicted torment on someone powerless, while Star couldn't retaliate. This debt made him feel smaller than a flea: squeezed to death or let go, still doomed. Why the violence? Nothing made sense.
"Master Rock, how bad is your vision? I need to be careful."
"Don't know. Don't like doctors. Just know it's really bad can't even see your face clearly from across this table. Think about that."
Rock lifted his sharp gaze, squinting at the person opposite, while jabbing a peeled shrimp into his mouth in one bite, cheeks puffing as he chewed.
"Oh… probably close to a thousand, huh?"
"You've got to watch me wherever I go, whatever I do. I don't like wearing glasses or contacts. Don't even talk about doctors I'm not going! Got it?"
"I'm not a doctor… I can only help so much. If you really wanted to fix it, just tolerate it a couple times and it'll get better."
"Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do? My mom hasn't even told me what to do yet! Don't start giving your opinion about my eyes. Just do what I say, that's it!"
The scowl deepened, voice low and rough, sliding through gritted teeth, gaze freezing Star in place. Head bowed, Star's small hands moved quickly, peeling shrimp as fast as possible.
"Have you eaten yet?" The harsh voice cut across the table. Even though Star's vision was blurred, the hood covering hair like someone who showers constantly was recognizable. And yet here he was, peeling shrimp before taking a shower?
"…Not yet," a quiet, muffled reply came, barely above a whisper.
The rich man frowned, cheeks flicking in thought, then nudged the plate closer.
"Eat." Head held high, chin up, the command came smoothly.
"Eat what? That's just shrimp shells," the small voice protested softly, though loud enough to be heard clearly.
A cold silence followed. Star blinked rapidly, staring at the pile of shells on the plate. You really want me to eat this?
"Ahem… give me a spoon. I want the broth." The smooth, high-chin face commanded again, as if nothing strange had happened, completely ignoring Star's puzzled look. Broth?
Still, a spoon was handed over.
Slurp~
Sluuurrrp~
Gag! Choke!
"Ahh! What the hell is this?!"
"Seafood dipping sauce."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me, kid? Choke! Choke! Water!!"
"Here's the water… I didn't know! Master Rock ordered the grilled seafood, not soup. There's no broth from the start. Sorry, I couldn't stop you from swallowing a big gulp."
"You messing with me? I just told you to take care of me!"
"Sorry, sir…"