【At this moment, how deeply heartbroken I am.】

【I love you so much, but why did you have to do those things?】

【You've changed.】

【So, I can only use my love to purify you.】

【Don't worry, I have plenty of love left.】

【Accept my love.】

【Master Moen.】

"Ah... ha..."

Moen woke up from his nightmare, gasping for air like a fish stranded on the shore.

"Was that... another dream?"

"No, it was that precognitive dream."

"The person in the dream seemed clearer this time. She seemed like..."

"Who was she?"

Shaking his head and straining to recall, Moen felt he was on the verge of discovering the identity of the person who had tortured him in his precognitive dream. But just as he approached the answer, it eluded him, like reaching out for something just beyond his grasp.

"Damn it, my head hurts."

As Moen furrowed his brow and struggled to think, pieces of memory, accompanied by sharp pain in the back of his head, flooded into his mind.

"Right, what happened before..."

"I remember, Ann tried to drug me."

"But I saw through it."

"And then... she resorted to force, knocked me out, didn’t she?"

The intense pain and the tearing sensation of fragmented memories caused cold sweat to break out on Moen’s forehead. He instinctively curled his body, trying to break free.

"Clang!"

With the harsh sound of metal clattering, Moen’s move brought sharp pain from the cold restraints binding his wrists and ankles.

"This is..."

Moen turned to look beside him.

His wrists and ankles were tightly shackled by cold iron chains, restricting his limited range of motion. He could do nothing but spread his arms and legs wide, just like the crucified Jesus.

Fortunately, his captor showed him a shred of pity, allowing him to sit on the ground so this imprisonment wouldn't turn into a constant punishment.

"But being imprisoned is punishment itself, isn't it!"

Moen yanked at the chains and shouted furiously:

"Who did this? Let me go! Do you even know who I am?"

"Ah, Master Moen, you're awake."

A familiar voice broke the silence in front of him.

"It's a relief to see you still so energetic."

"You... Ann?"

Moen looked up, and there she stood—the ever-dignified Ann, still dressed in her maid uniform. Her face serene and composed, like always. Instantly, the agony of betrayal and the anger of imprisonment surged through Moen's mind, making his struggling even more frantic.

"Why are you doing this, An!"

"Why did you betray me? Why did you lock me up?"

"Did someone coerce you into this? Or were you a spy planted in the Duke's household all along!"

"Betrayal? Coercion? Spy?"

An looked at Moen, a trace of doubt flickering in her eyes.

"What are you talking about, Master Moen? How could I ever betray you? I am your loyal personal maid, devoted to serving you."

"Totally bullshit! What kind of a 'loyal maid' would knock out her master and imprison him?"

"Didn't I explain it to you earlier? There's no way left. If only you'd been less clever and drank the tea, you wouldn't be this suffering now."

"And then you'd drug me and chain me afterward?" Moen sneered coldly.

"Well, the result doesn't change much. But those guesses of yours—betrayal, coercion, being a spy—they're not the truth."

"I've always been your faithful maid. Since ten years ago, when you were eight and I first came to your side, I've been here for you. My entire existence revolves around you."

"Then why?!"

"Haven't you forgotten what I said just a while ago?"

"What... did you say?"

"Right before I knocked you out."

Ann knelt down in front of Moen, her soft body leaning in close to embrace him intimately. A faint floral scent lingered in the air. The exquisite sensation of her touch momentarily made Moen lose his focus.

Leaning near Moen's ear, she whispered:

"I told you, everything I do is to pull you back to the right track."

"What... right track?"

"Of course, it’s..."

*Sluurp*

Ann suddenly extended her delicate tongue and licked Moen's cheek.

The unexpected sensation of moist warmth made Moen instinctively want to back away. Yet, shackled by chains and cornered against the wall, where could he even escape to?

"Of course, it’s ensuring that you, Master Moen, belong entirely and completely to me—forever, inside out. From head to toe, from flesh to soul, every strand of hair, every drop of blood, and even every hint of your scent—all mine."

An's always-dignified face flushed red, like a shy maiden confessing to the one she loves. However, the meaning behind her words was nothing about sweetness or innocence.

"What—"

Moen’s mind went blank.

In these few short minutes, his brain was stimulated so much that it left him practically frozen in shock.

At that moment, the faint floral scent infiltrating his nostrils teased his senses, clearing his thoughts.

But Moen wished he hadn’t regained clarity.

Because he finally recognized that scent.

"Why didn’t I figure out earlier?"

In his precognitive dream, the person meant to torture him to death—her voice and appearance were shrouded in indistinct layers as if deliberately obscured. Except for one detail.

There was one thing about her that remained unchanged.

It was the mysterious floral scent lingering around her.

And that scent was identical to the fragrance emanating from Ann’s body now.

At this revelation, Moen couldn't help but turn his head slowly to look at Ann, who was just right before him.

Still dressed in her maid uniform and maintaining her ever-dignified exterior, Ann now clung tightly to Moen, inhaling his scent greedily.

Occasionally, she would lick his cheek or neck, then show an expression of absolute satisfaction, like someone savoring a delicious feast.

The horrible blush coloring her face hadn’t faded for even a moment!

It was now, for the first time, that Moen became fully aware of the emotion hidden deep within An’s eyes—a feeling she tried to conceal but couldn’t suppress.

It was an emotion that inadvertently leaked a sliver of its essence.

And it wasn’t affection or kindness or adoration.

It was possession—a bottomless, abyss-like, all-consuming desire to possess.

"So... that’s it?"

"The truth behind the Black Book’s precognitive dream."

"The Ann, who has lived by my side as my personal maid, is actually... a yandere?"

Understanding the truth behind everything finally made Moen’s teeth chatter in fright.

Sure, many people adore yandere characters in novels or anime. But enjoying them as fiction and experiencing the reality of being entangled with one are completely different matters.

Especially when it's the extreme kind—the kind of yandere who doesn’t hesitate to knock you unconscious or imprison you. That’s not just dangerous; it’s life-threatening! This was no playful scenario; Makoto’s fate was still a cautionary tale hanging over everyone’s heads!

"No, that’s—it makes no sense!"

"Isn’t this kind of yandere scenario supposed to happen to the protagonist?"

"Why me? I'm just some blond-hair antagonist! How am I deserving of this?"

"Where's the protagonist? Where is she? Damn it! Somebody come and save me now!"