A week was enough time for a wild cat to evolve into a house cat. Rina completed this evolution in seven days…
At least on the surface.
On the first day, she still tried to maintain her “innocent kidnapped girl” persona, putting up fierce verbal resistance to everything Kurose Hisaki did.
On the second day, she realized resistance was pointless except for making this woman smile even more.
On the third day, she started slacking off.
On the fourth day, she discovered that slacking off felt pretty good.
On the fifth day, she even started proactively asking the kidnapper for things.
And today was the seventh day.
Rina was curled up on the huge sofa in the living room…
She was sprawled across it in an extremely arrogant posture, her silver-white hair spread out like a puddle, one foot propped up on the sofa armrest, the light blue slipper on her foot dangling precariously.
She held a slice of chilled watermelon she’d just taken from the mini fridge, took a bite, and juice dripped down the corner of her mouth. She was too lazy to wipe it, just sticking out her tongue to lick it up.
Then she silently marveled to herself.
So this is what being kept feels like.
Kept.
She corrected her wording internally.
She wasn’t being “kept,” but she did have room and board, air conditioning, and chilled watermelon.
Tsk.
She shook that dangerous thought out of her head.
Her biggest intelligence gain was learning the kidnapper’s name.
Hisaki.
The process of learning this name was completely lacking in drama.
One day, Hisaki took a work call…
It turned out this woman who seemed like a full-time pervert actually had a legitimate job, something related to design work that she could do from home.
The person on the other end of the line called her “Miss Kurose.”
She had been lying on the sofa pretending to scroll through videos while actually eavesdropping with her ears perked up.
Kurose.
Kurose Hisaki.
What do you know, her name was actually pretty nice.
Of course, she would never call her that to her face.
Her forms of address for Hisaki remained the same fixed options…
“Kidnapper,” “Pervert,” “Weirdo,” “Small Fry.”
Hisaki didn’t seem to care about this at all, and even seemed to enjoy it.
Every time Rina called her “Kidnapper,” she would flash that smile that made one’s back crawl, as if she were hearing an affectionate nickname.
Perverts really do think differently.
The second thing that bothered Rina was Hisaki’s eating habits.
To be precise, Hisaki didn’t have eating habits at all.
During this week, Rina had eaten fried chicken, pizza, sushi, ramen, curry rice, braised pork, sweet and sour ribs, mango mille crepe cake, tiramisu…
Hisaki would sit beside her while she ate, quietly watching her with those dark red eyes, occasionally helping her wipe sauce from the corner of her mouth.
But Hisaki herself almost never ate.
She had only eaten in front of Rina once.
One time, she deliberately pushed a piece of fried pork cutlet in front of Hisaki and said, “I can’t finish all of this alone, you eat some too.”
Hisaki hesitated for a moment, then picked up her chopsticks, picked up the pork cutlet, put it in her mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed.
Her expression was calm, but Rina noticed her throat move…
It wasn’t the swallow of someone enjoying food, more like someone forcing down something she shouldn’t be eating.
“Not tasty?” Rina asked.
“No.” Hisaki smiled in response. “Anything Shiro gives me is delicious.”
Liar.
Rina said in her mind.
When this woman eats, her face clearly reads “I’m chewing on a piece of tasteless styrofoam.”
But she didn’t press further.
Compared to worrying about the kidnapper’s dietary health, she was more concerned about something else…
Every time Hisaki finished eating with her, she would go to the kitchen for a while.
The kitchen door was frosted glass, and she could see a blurry figure inside, but couldn’t tell what she was doing.
Every time she came out, Hisaki’s complexion would be slightly better, and her lips would be a bit more rosy than usual.
Sneaking off to eat.
Rina concluded in her mind.
This kidnapper definitely had a secret stash of snacks she refused to share, waiting until she was full before sneaking into the kitchen to enjoy them herself.
Extremely stingy.
As for what delicious things were hidden in that fridge, Rina decided she would find an opportunity to dig through it sooner or later.
But then again, aside from this one suspicious point, this kidnapper’s attitude toward her was…
Almost ridiculously good.
Whatever she said, Hisaki would do.
And Hisaki never talked much when doing these things, never emphasized “I did this for you” or “I did that for you,” just quietly got things done, then looked at her with those dark red eyes, waiting for her reaction.
If she showed she liked something, Hisaki would smile.
This kind of pleasing had absolutely no limits.
Rina once deliberately tested the boundaries…
She pointed at the neon sign on the top floor of the building across the street and said.
“That barbecue place’s sign is too bright, it’s hurting my eyes. Can you have them turn it off?”
This was pure provocation.
A normal person would say “That’s someone else’s sign, it can’t be turned off.”
But Hisaki just seriously looked at the sign, then took out her phone to check, and said.
“That place’s lease expires next month. I’ll renew it then. What color do you want the sign changed to?”
Rina choked on the spot.
“I was joking!” she coughed.
“I know.” Hisaki patted her back. “But if Shiro doesn’t like something, I want it to disappear.”
Rina shuddered.
This woman’s “pleasing” wasn’t pleasing, it was something much scarier.
After being kept for seven days, Rina felt she was visibly turning into a pig at a noticeable rate.
She quickly extinguished the thought of “being kept isn’t so bad” in her head, then thought about escape plans. The thinking process was harder than before because Hisaki had filled her brain with food and comfort.
Eat and you want to sleep, wake up and you want to lie around, lie around enough and you want to eat.
Every time the thought of escape surfaced, it was pushed back down by the undigested mango mille crepe cake in her stomach.
And now she had one new thing in her hands.
A phone.
Hisaki had given it to her three days ago, white, the latest model, with a bow tied on the box as if this weren’t a tool of imprisonment but a gift.
The first thing Rina did when she turned on the phone was check for a SIM card.
None.
The second thing was check for installed messaging apps.
None.
The third thing was try to download WeChat.
Parental password required.
Parent?
Rina let out a sound of disbelief at that moment.
She opened the settings and found that this phone was already bound to the “Kurose Hisaki” account, and had minor mode enabled.
Minor mode.
She stormed over to Hisaki with the phone, shoving the “Minor Mode” text on the screen in her face.
“What does this mean?”
Hisaki was sitting in a chair in the study, a laptop in front of her, looking like she was handling some work-related matter.
She saw Rina’s puffed-up angry face, froze for a moment, then smiled.
“Safety measures.”
“Whose safety?”
“Shiro’s.”
“I think it’s your safety!
Rina slapped the phone on the table.
“Unlock it for me. I want to contact the outside world.”
“Not allowed.”
Hisaki’s voice was still so gentle, but the refusal left no room for negotiation.
“Shiro can use it to watch videos, read news, play games, shop…
You can buy whatever you want, my account is linked. But chatting with strangers is not allowed.”
“Why?”
“Because there are a lot of bad people.
What if Shiro gets targeted by bad people? What if you get tricked by someone with ill intentions? What if someone sweet-talks you away?”
“…The things you’re describing, how are they different from what you yourself did?”
Hisaki blinked.
“There’s a difference.”
She raised one finger, seriously, and said one word with complete confidence.
“Me.”
“I’m the good bad guy.”