Conqueror’s Desire

Cold.

That was the first thing he felt.

His body felt heavy, as if buried under an invisible weight. Rough sand clung to his cheek, and the damp sea breeze seeped into his pores.

Then, slowly…

His eyes opened.

A blue sky.

White clouds drifted lazily, moving in rhythm with the waves rolling in the distance. A few seabirds circled overhead, hovering as if waiting for the right moment to strike.

He tried to move his fingers. It felt like forcing a rusted wheel to turn. His entire body ached, as if he had just survived a battle that should have killed him.

Where am I?

That was the first question that came to his mind.

He scanned his surroundings, trying to make sense of them. White sand stretched as far as he could see, swept by gentle waves. A few palm trees stood tall at the edge of the beach, swaying slightly with the breeze.

This place… was unfamiliar.

More than that—he had no memory of how he got here.

Who am I?

Emptiness. No answer. No memories he could reach.

He frowned, trying to grasp at something in his mind. There were fragments, scattered pieces of memory, but they were all blurry, like shadows dissolving into thick fog.

Yet, in the midst of that emptiness, there was one thing he knew for sure.

He hated women.

He didn't know why. But the feeling was strong, deep, as if it had been carved into his very soul.

And as if the universe itself was mocking him, a voice suddenly called out.

"Oi, are you still alive?"

A woman's voice.

He slowly turned his head.

There, standing on a large rock jutting out over the ocean, was a woman with long orange hair, looking down at him with a curious smirk.

Her eyes gleamed with cunning intelligence, her lips curved into a sly smile that was difficult to decipher. She wore a tight white top and a short blue skirt, with a strange tattoo on her left arm.

At first glance, she seemed like an ordinary woman. But something about her gaze immediately put him on high alert.

Don't trust her.

The woman leaped down from the rock with effortless grace, as if gravity barely affected her.

"You look like you've been through hell," she said, crossing her arms. "Want some help?"

He didn't answer right away. He tried to get up, but his body refused to cooperate. Pain shot through every muscle.

Seeing this, the woman chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He remained silent, eyes filled with suspicion.

Who is she? What does she want?

But he had no choice. Right now, his body was too weak to refuse her help.

And just like that, he stepped into a new game. A world where trust was a fragile currency and weakness was nothing more than an invitation to be crushed.

But this wasn't the end.

One day… he would become stronger.And he would never let himself be played again.