Serving the blind master was no easy task. For one, Vincent was extremely suspicious. I heard that I was the tenth person he had hired since he was confined to his room. At first, they were all male servants, but later some were changed to maids, and most of them didn't last long, either quitting or disappearing suddenly.
Disappearing suddenly was one thing, but I could understand why they couldn't stay for long. He was sensitive to every sound, perhaps because he couldn't see, and his senses were that much sharper.
Moreover, he hardly moved from his bed. He only moved when necessary, otherwise, he remained in bed. When someone entered, he quickly pulled the sheets over himself.
Additionally, he had a terrible temper. He would overturn everything brought to him, causing chaos. Whenever I moved even a little, he would curl up tightly under the sheets, trying to hide himself.
He's really like a cat.
The only time Vincent seemed to have a decent moment was when the butler visited. The butler was the old gentleman who brought me here. He visited Vincent's room once a day, and during that time, they seemed to have quite serious conversations. Vincent didn't hide under the sheets then and showed a rather serious attitude. Every time I secretly peeked, I wondered if he was originally a serious and passionate person.
So what? He's like this now.
A plate flew past my face and shattered against the wall. I was tired of even turning around to check.
"Get out."
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes tightly. At the sound, Vincent curled up even more, but his eyes were sharp.
"It seems I don't please you."
"Yes, you don't. So get out."
"What exactly do you dislike about me? If you tell me, I'll try to change."
"Everything. From one to ten, everything."
That's a problem.
"I'll try to please you."
"There's no need. Just disappear from my sight."
I just want to hit him once.
A disobedient child needs a good slap to come to their senses. I glanced at his head. Just... one hit, can't I?
"What are you thinking?"
"..."
"Don't even think about it. I'll kill you."
He's sensitive about that. I shrugged and turned to clean up the broken plate.
What a waste. If I had sold it at the market, it would have fetched a good price. I gathered the broken pieces, feeling a bit regretful. Well, forget the meal for now; let's tidy up the bed first.
"Sir, we need to change the bed sheets."
"Don't come near me."
"Just move aside for a moment..."
I was about to approach to change the bed sheets when something flew and hit my forehead. The intense impact made me lose my balance for a moment. When I steadied myself, I saw what had hit me and fallen to the ground. It was a table clock.
I picked up the clock and checked it. The hands had stopped, and it was broken. I was flabbergasted.
"If you don't like it, just say so. Why do something dangerous like this...?"
"Afraid I might die? No one would care if you died anyway."
I looked at him, raising my gaze from the clock. Vincent rarely showed his face. He had thrown something to put me in danger and still looked calm, even smirking.
"You people are so predictable. You'll do anything for money, dirty and obsessed with material desires. Would such people fear death? You probably came here for the money. Otherwise, you wouldn't have accepted a stranger's offer so easily."
"..."
"Why do you think I hired you? Because you have outstanding abilities? Because you're trustworthy? No, none of that. It's because it doesn't matter if you die. You know how to please others, are somewhat useful, and if you become a nuisance, I can kill you without any consequences. That's what you are."
His words stabbed my heart like knives. They cruelly tore at my insides. How could he be so wicked? How could he say such harsh things? Yet, I didn't cry because I had heard similar things before.
Criticism is easy. People criticize others as easily as they breathe, and they feel comforted by it. People did this to me. Sometimes even my father and my only sister. They boosted their dignity by criticizing me. That was the value of my existence.
So I wasn't hurt. It didn't hurt more than when my father beat me.
Of course, feeling bad is a separate issue.
"You're really terrible."
"What?"
"You, the great master, live such a dirty life."
At my words, Vincent's face turned red. He glared at the air, looking pitiful.
He gritted his teeth and muttered.
"Watch your mouth."
"Let me add, you're right. I am obsessed with material desires. I love money."
"What?"
"As you said, I don't matter if I die, and no one would look for me if I disappeared suddenly. If you ordered me to die right now, I couldn't resist. So you don't need to be afraid. If you still don't like me, just kill me. And if you're going to kill me, do it quickly. It's cleaner than torture. Oh, and no one will come to avenge me, so you can rest assured. You really found the right person."
"..."
He finally fell silent. A moment of surprise flashed in his eyes, but it was brief. When I approached again, he immediately showed his suspicion.
"Sir."
He felt around as if looking for something to throw, but I ignored it. There was nothing left to throw anyway. I stopped in front of the bed while he was flustered.
"Excuse me."
I grabbed the sheets and pulled them off.
He couldn't even groan as he rolled off the bed and fell to the floor with a thud.
"What are you doing!"
"I'm changing the sheets, sir."
I pushed him away with my foot and pulled off the remaining bed sheets. I replaced them with the new ones I had prepared, ignoring his loud protests.
Next, I sat in front of him as he felt around on the floor and unbuttoned his pajamas. Vincent reached out to stop me, but I skillfully grabbed his hand and pressed it to the floor, pinning it with my knee.
"What are you doing! Don't touch me!"
"Why not? Is your body that special?"
"What?"
He was momentarily stunned, but when I unbuttoned his pajamas and tried to take them off, he resisted, twisting his body. The unexpected strength made me lose my balance and lean towards the floor. He took advantage of this to grab my head and push it away. But I didn't give up. Even though my head was pushed back, I held onto his pajamas and tried to pull them off. I pressed his resisting hand more firmly with my knee and twisted my body to follow his movements, trying to take off the pajamas. My other hand, which was on the floor, also moved around, making the situation chaotic.
In the midst of this struggle, I took advantage of his momentary lapse in attention to pull his pajamas off his shoulders.
He had said he lost his sight about a year ago and hadn't eaten properly for about six months.
He was too thin.
His body had no flesh.
His ribs were visible, and his muscles had wasted away. He looked strong from the outside, but it wasn't the case. I had occasionally felt his thin, bony arms when I grabbed them, but I didn't expect him to be this thin. There were also small bruises all over his body.
His face, when seen up close, was too gaunt and pale. He hadn't slept well, and his eyes were sunken. His emerald eyes, now dull, had no focus, and his cracked, swollen lips exhaled labored breaths.
He looked like he would break if touched.
Despite being an adult male, I had this thought.
I felt sorry for him.
Without realizing it, I caressed his cheek. He flinched and turned his head away, lowering his eyes and pursing his lips. It was a look of shame.
Seeing this, I withdrew my hand. I released his hand and pushed his shoulder back. As his body fell limply, I took off his pants. Out of decency, I left his underwear on.
I picked up the dirty pajamas and went to the wardrobe to get new ones. He was hugging his thin body with his arms, curled up tightly. His spine was prominently visible, looking terrible.
"If you want to keep wearing smelly clothes, there's nothing I can do. But as someone serving you, I hope you understand my deep desire to keep you clean. And if you could stretch out your arms for the new clothes, I would be grateful."
"I'll kill you."
"Yes. Please stretch out your arms."
I grabbed his thin arms. He resisted, but his strength was weak. I hadn't expected a man's strength to be so weak. It seemed to reflect his life of being confined to the room.
Instead of forcing his arms up, I placed the new pajamas on his wrists. He fumbled and started to put them on. He seemed embarrassed to be undressed. I pretended not to notice and adjusted the clothes to make it easier for him to wear.
"The pants are here, and the underwear too."
"..."
There was no response. I didn't expect one anyway.
I handed him the remaining clothes and went to the bed. I changed the pillowcase and the sheets. Feeling satisfied with the clean bed, I turned to look at Vincent. Fortunately, he had also changed into the new pants.
I approached him with a pleased expression. He was trying to stand up by feeling the floor with his hands. When I offered to help, he fiercely pushed me away and tried to walk to the bed on his own, feeling the air. He's so stubborn.
"Sir, you need to go to the right."
"Shut up."
Even though he said that, he obediently turned to the right. I picked up the discarded clothes. But why is this all there? Where's the underwear?
"Sir, you need to change your underwear too."
...At this, Vincent quickly lay down on the bed. He pulled the new sheets over his head and curled up in the corner. I was speechless. I approached him to check, and a foul smell hit me.
You didn't...?
"Did you not change your underwear?"
"Get out."
No, that's disgusting. Sir. As I bent down, the sheets fluttered, and something suddenly shot out from inside.