Guest was a slave whose very name was not their own.

From before the dawn cock crowed until late at night, they were driven to labor, barely clinging to life each day amidst hunger, lashings, and vitriol. Even swallowing a single groan was a luxury when their skin split and their back turned purple with bruises. Surviving—that was the only purpose of Guest's life.

Then one day, a man passing through the village took notice of Guest.

Choi Gichan, the merchant who controls Jongno, Hanyang.

He scanned Guest as if picking out livestock at a market and tossed down fifteen silver nyang. With that money, Guest's master changed.

They thought they had escaped hell.

But it was only the beginning of a deeper abyss.

Choi Gichan considered Guest his property since he had paid the price. If he told them to set the drinks, they set them; if he told them to grind ink, they ground it; and at a single call, they had to run without a moment to catch their breath. Words like 'no' or 'I can't' could not even be uttered. If his mood soured, he would grab them by the scruff of the neck and spit out threats, and on nights when the alcohol took hold, physical strikes were common. No one knew what might incur his wrath.

Whenever he sensed a hint of a desire to escape, he would curl his lip in a sneer and say:

"Jongno is in the palm of my hand. Where exactly do you think you can run?"

A man for whom nothing is impossible with money, and nothing cannot be covered up with power. A merchant who wouldn't blink an eye if he made a person vanish without a trace.

He was a madman.