The Duke’s Obsession Leads to a Death Flag

Efforts to Avoid the Death Flag

The boy was a worm that lived hidden in the darkness. Born from an impure body, he was not allowed to be seen by anyone, nor to live like a person—just a worm.

The one who had given birth to him had died alone in a corner of the mansion, and the boy, left by himself, survived by scavenging discarded food while avoiding people’s eyes.

He didn’t even think of it as miserable. This was simply how life was for him, and he had grown used to it.

Then one day, the owner of the mansion summoned him. Dragged away without knowing why, the boy saw the mansion’s master up close for the first time.

Once, the one who had given birth to him had told him: You look so much like the master of the mansion. He had thought it was just the dying ramblings of someone desperate, a blatant lie. But it was true.

The people who saw the child being brought in all fell into stunned silence. Not only did he resemble the district lord perfectly, but his vibrant red hair and eyes, more distinct than any of the other children, matched the exact conditions they deemed essential for an heir.

“If only he hadn’t come from the filthy body of an Omega…” Someone whispered, and murmurs spread louder among the people.

Clicking his tongue lightly, the master of the mansion raised a hand to silence the voices. The mansion was excessively large—he could not possibly know everything that happened within its walls. He had known that the Omega he had taken on a whim had given birth to his child, but he had assumed the child had died long ago.

“Still alive, huh.”

His gaze was filled with pure disgust, as if he were looking at something vile that had no right to exist in this world.

The boy was used to such stares, but seeing that same revulsion reflected in red eyes so similar to his own felt different. An odd, aching sensation throbbed in his chest, making him unable to meet the master’s eyes any longer.

“Dispose of it quickly.”

With a casual wave of his hand, the master gave his command, and the waiting attendants seized the boy. The rough hands that grabbed him were no different from before, dragging him away without regard. Powerless against them, he was shoved into a large sack like a piece of discarded cargo.

He had once overheard people talking. They had said that the master regularly disposed of the children.

The master had many wives, and thus, a great number of children. However, only one could earn his acknowledgment, and so his children were forced into endless competition for the sole position of heir.

Those who failed in the relentless battles were disposed of on the master’s orders. No one knew where they were taken or what happened to them afterward.

The boy had never even been given the right to compete, so he should have been disposed of long ago. But he had managed to survive by keeping out of sight, hiding where no one would notice him.

Not that he had done so by choice.

Curled tightly in the sack, unable to see even an inch ahead, the boy was cast out from the mansion.

He had no idea how many hours—no, how many days—he had been trapped like that.

All he knew was that he was being taken far away from District 1, as he listened to the sound of footsteps, the hum of an engine, and the occasional murmur of voices around him.

Unlike the radiant District 1, where light shone from all directions, the boy awoke in a mansion shrouded in darkness. The moment he opened his eyes, he froze—countless eyes were staring down at him.

“A ‘gift,’ they said… and this is what they sent?”

A man, holding a flickering gas lamp close to the boy’s face, muttered in a sighing voice. The terrified boy could only tremble, having no idea what was happening.

He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who these people were. He didn’t know anything.

If he had been in a familiar mansion, he might have tried to run somewhere. But this place was too foreign, too unfamiliar.

“Was there any other message besides this?”

“No, none at all….”

“He still hasn’t gotten rid of his habit of playing with people, I see.”

The man pressed his fingers against his temple as if suppressing a headache. After finishing a prolonged exchange with the others, he finally pulled back the hood that had been covering half of his face.

His jet-black hair, dark as the night sky, contrasted sharply against his pale skin, giving his face a chillingly cold appearance. His eyes, deep and unreadable like a bottomless lake, locked onto the terrified boy.

“Tell him that I’ve received his ‘gift’ well.”

The moment the man finished speaking, frightening things began to unfold.

The boy begged over and over, pleading that he hadn’t done anything wrong. And when he came to his senses, he was alone in a cold and unfamiliar place. It was far colder and darker than where he had lived before.

He had been unconscious for a long time. Now, he opened his eyes to the moonlight streaming through a small window. But the moment he realized he couldn’t move a single finger, he closed them again.

Am I really going to die? the boy wondered in the darkness.

He wanted to live.

Even if he had to survive on discarded food, even if everyone cursed him as a wretched being and beat him, he still wanted to live.

So, please… someone…

“Come on, open your eyes.”

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

A cautious hand brushed over his swollen cheek, stirring him from his sleep. His heavy eyelids slowly lifted.

The once-dark surroundings had brightened. Though his swollen eyes prevented him from opening them completely, he could make out a shadow standing against the light.

Terrified, the boy tried to move away from the approaching figure, but he still couldn’t move even a single finger.

A gentle hand reached out and carefully caressed his forehead and cheek. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for pain, but instead, a warm touch eased the tension from his body.

“It’s okay.”

A murmuring voice.

The boy opened his eyes again and looked at the person in front of him.

As the sunlight outside slowly shifted, the black silhouette disappeared, revealing a gentle face.

“Hello?”

It was the first meeting that would change the boy’s life forever.

***

Bang!

A gunshot echoed through the empty clearing, sending startled birds flying into the sky.

The clay target, falling in an arc, hit the ground without so much as a scratch.

A complete miss.

There was no time to be disappointed. Moving swiftly, I reloaded the gun, my hands working quickly.

The moment I adjusted my stance again, the waiting attendant shouted loudly.

“Young Master, I’ll throw it now!”

Following the lessons from shooting practice, I closed one eye and held my breath. My gaze remained fixed at the tip of the gun barrel, aimed at the empty air, while my finger rested on the trigger.

The moment the disc, thrown with full force by the attendant, entered my line of sight, I pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Bang!

This time, it hit. The disc, which had briefly floated in the air, shattered into countless pieces.

“Direct hit!”

Only after hearing the attendant’s voice—more excited than I was—did I finally lower the gun and release my tension. I handed the empty firearm to the attendant and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

My heart was pounding loudly. Whether it was a sign that my body was starting to falter again or simply the result of intense concentration, I couldn’t tell. Please, let it not be the former. I glanced at my sweat-soaked sleeve and sighed.

“Young Master, that was excellent.”

“Well, it’s nothing special.”

That was what I said, but my shoulders were already puffed up with pride. I tried to suppress my twitching lips, forcing a nonchalant expression, when suddenly, the sound of clapping reached my ears.

“Your shooting skills have improved quite a bit.”

“Father.”

At the familiar, gentle voice, I turned around.

Han Jae-hoon was approaching the garden with his aides. He was supposed to be busy preparing for his departure to District 1, but since things seemed to be wrapping up, he must have found time for a stroll.

“Out for a walk?”

“I came to see my baby while getting some fresh air.”

Kneeling down to meet my eye level, Han Jae-hoon gently ruffled my sweat-dampened hair. His large hand carried a faint scent of daisies—the flower that Seo-yul’s mother had loved the most when she was alive.

“I think you’re ready to go hunting with me now.”

“Hunting?”

“Yes, it’s about time my baby learns how to hunt.”

Compared to other districts, District 5 had an unusually vast forested area. Perhaps because of this, the district’s residents all had a strong affinity for hunting, and Han Jae-hoon himself had a deep passion for it.

Due to my weak constitution, I had never been able to participate in strenuous activities, but shooting was something I had consistently practiced. It was part of Han Jae-hoon’s grand scheme—to create an opportunity for us to spend time together.

Thanks to that, even when my body was at its worst, I had at least been able to continue training with firearms, which had given me a small sense of relief.

Of course, improving my skill was a different matter. Still, considering my experience as a reservist, I wasn’t exactly terrible at handling a gun either.

“What do you think? How about going after this business is over?”

“The villa?”

He was trying to phrase it subtly, but in the end, he was inviting me on a vacation to the villa.

Han Jae-hoon, caught off guard by my direct remark, averted his gaze with an awkward smile.

Out of habit, I was about to reject his invitation, but I hesitated.

According to my plan, by the time Han Jae-hoon returned from the district leader’s meeting, the child would no longer be here.

I’ll send him far away.

Somewhere that’s neither District 1 nor District 5.

If I did that, wouldn’t I be able to continue my peaceful life here?

A life without worrying about the future.

A life without worrying about the child in the storage room.

A truly peaceful life.

“I want to go hunting too.”

“Really?”

When I gave a firm nod, a bright smile spread across Han Jae-hoon’s face.

He opened his arms wide and pulled me into an embrace, clearly overjoyed.

Even though he hadn’t shown it, he must have been bothered by the fact that I kept rejecting his vacation plans.

“I’m really looking forward to this trip.”

“Me too.”

And for once, I truly meant it.