Boss, Does Being a Pretty Vase Really Work? - Chapter 2

With one hand, Holt casually unbuckled his belt. With the other, he picked up the flashlight on the desk.

He glanced at me, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth. “Do I really need to teach you how an inspection works?”

My ears burned hot enough to melt the air.

The player character in the game had not been intersex. For some reason, when I arrived in his body, I had brought along the secret that had made me an object of contempt in my original world.

Before I got into Holt’s car, I had been gambling on the upright superintendent refusing to touch me.

I had miscalculated. This was, after all, a virtual game built around horror.

I hesitated, wanting to warn him in advance, but before I could speak, the impatient man pushed me down. Holt’s massive body pressed over mine like a mountain.

My skirt flew up.

Moments later, his pupils seemed to burn red. He licked his lips, the faint curve of his mouth lending a dangerous excitement to his otherwise steady voice.

“Darling, I promise…”

“Tonight is going to be very hard on you.”

…

At five in the morning, the sky was just beginning to pale.

Feeling as though every bone in my body had come apart, I struggled to sit up. A powerful arm hooked around my waist and stopped me.

Holt’s rich voice was lazy, but the words were cutting. “In such a hurry to earn money from your next customer?”

If not for the killer, I would have bitten him.

Grinding my teeth inwardly, I put on a timid expression. “A customer is coming early to collect some furniture. And I don’t want my brother to find out I’m doing this behind his back. My dignity is all I have left.”

Hearing the catch in my voice, Holt—who had meant to catch a little sleep before work—closed his eyes helplessly. With a silent sigh, he picked up the clothes scattered over the floor.

“I’ll drive you home.”

I almost refused. Under the game’s rules, the killer stopped hunting after five in the morning. In other words, I would be safe on my own.

Holt said nothing. He merely gave me a sidelong look.

I lowered my eyes obediently. “Thank you for the trouble.”

He seemed pleased by my good sense. The tall, handsome man picked up his keys.

“Come on, you pitiful little thing.”

The drive home was quiet.

Holt stopped in front of the carpentry shop. My brother and I lived upstairs.

Before I got out, Holt produced a thick stack of cash and handed it to me. I tried to refuse.

“Take it,” he said flatly. “You’re not sleeping with any other men from now on.”

While I stood there stunned, he looked me over and abruptly changed the subject. “When your brother has one of his episodes, he does more than smash things, doesn’t he?”

He must have seen the fading bruises on my body. They had come with the character setting when I entered the game; no supposed brother had actually beaten me.

I held the money awkwardly and pressed my lips together. “Thank you.”

Holt ignored my gratitude.

“Eat more, little thing. Do you have any idea how bony you are? Holding you is uncomfortable. Is this what you call professional standards?”

After leaving behind those seemingly critical remarks, he stepped on the accelerator and drove away without looking back.

I stood there in a daze until the car disappeared from sight. Looking down at the cash in my palm, I sighed inwardly.

Only a day had passed since I entered the game, yet I was already exhausted in body and mind.

I turned slowly, intending to collapse on the player character’s bed. Then something on the second floor caught the corner of my eye, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Percy—the player character’s younger brother, described by the game as pathologically obsessed with his brother—stood beside an upstairs window. His face was bloodless, and his unnaturally black eyes watched me in utter silence.

Against the gray, fog-laced dawn, a strange smile hovered on his lips. His voice drifted down, so soft it scarcely seemed real.

If one ignored the cold gleam of the axe behind him—and the blood faintly staining its edge—anyone would have mistaken him for a good little brother worried about his family.

“Brother, where did you go?”