— The Collector's Lie —
Even now, Jasper's expression remains clear in my memory—
his face drained of color, as if something essential had quietly left him.
"Rhan...you have to help me."
His voice shook. "I don't want to become one of the last two."
The words caught in his throat, as though an unseen hand were tightening around it.
I took a slow breath and forced myself to stay steady.
The painting's presence still lingered in the room—an oppressive residue in the air.
"Go find Kai," I said.
"He gave you the painting. That means he didn't tell you everything."
The moment the words left my mouth, Jasper reached for the frame.
My pulse spiked.
"Don't touch it."
He froze, confusion flickering across his face.
"It's been here long enough to recognize this space," I said quietly.
"Moving it now would provoke a reaction."
As I finished speaking, the temperature dropped.
Jasper's hand trembled before he slowly pulled it back.
---
Twenty minutes later, we stood outside Kai's apartment.
The door opened, and a damp, stale odor spilled out—alcohol, neglect, and something faintly sour.
Kai's hair was brittle and uneven, his stubble patchy.
His eyes were bloodshot, as if something inside him had been burning for days without rest.
When he saw Jasper, his pupils contracted sharply.
"J–Jasper?"
His voice cracked. "What are you doing here?"
He tried to close the door.
Jasper kicked it open, sending him stumbling backward into the room.
"Kai," I said, meeting his gaze.
"You know why we're here."
His mouth twitched.
"It's...about the painting, isn't it?"
The word painting came out wrong—hesitant, strained.
"It ruined me," he said too quickly. "Everything went wrong after that thing showed up."
Jasper sneered. "Enough. What really happened?"
Kai inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself, then began to speak.
Four months earlier, he had seen the painting in a friend's private study.
He thought it was beautiful.
He bought it.
Hung it in his winery office.
Then the disturbances began.
Security guards reported laughter echoing through empty corridors.
Voices with no source.
Later, the sounds grew closer—clearer—
as if someone were speaking directly into their ears.
Then came the deaths.
Two female workers.
Alcohol poisoning, officially—ruptured stomachs.
But neither had a history of heavy drinking.
As Kai spoke, his eyelids fluttered uncontrollably.
He talked faster, words tumbling out as if pressure had finally found a release:
the factory descending into chaos, workers quitting, investors withdrawing.
Desperate, he consulted a spiritual practitioner.
The verdict was simple:
the painting required someone with strong living energy to suppress it—
the vital warmth carried by the living, the natural force that resists decay, possession, and things that should not linger.
So he gave it to Jasper.
Jasper stared at him in disbelief, then surged forward, fist raised.
I stepped between them before it could land.
"Kai," I said evenly.
"You're still holding something back."
His head snapped up.
"I told you everything," he said, too quickly.
"Not everything."
I stepped closer. "You didn't just hang the painting in your office."
I paused.
"You fell in love with the woman inside it."
Selene's breath caught audibly.
Jasper's eyes widened—
not in fear this time, but disbelief.
And Kai—
He looked away.
He couldn't meet my gaze.
As if something essential had already been taken from him—
and the rest was only waiting to follow.—
— When the Portrait Looked Back —
I hardened my tone and pressed him further.
"Giving the painting away won't end this," I said.
"Once it absorbs the essence of three hundred and sixty-five people, she will revive. And as her former owner—if you truly haven't aided her—she'll turn on you."
I paused.
"You won't survive until the end."
Kai jerked as if struck by lightning.
Sweat surfaced instantly, trailing down his temples.
After a long, suffocating silence, he nodded.
"Yes...you're right."
His voice cracked. "I did fall in love with her."
The air seemed to tear open at the admission.
Jasper and Selene stared at him in stunned disbelief.
Kai continued, words spilling out as if he were expelling something rotten lodged deep in his chest.
"Pathetic, I know. But the first time I saw her...I couldn't look away. It felt like my soul was being pulled in. Every day I wanted to lift the veil—to see what kind of face could hold that presence."
His hands trembled.
"During the day, I stood in front of the painting, smiling like an idiot. At night, I held it while I slept."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Touching the paper felt like...touching a living woman."
Jasper's face turned ashen. "You betray your friend, and on top of that you're obsessed with a damn painting?"
I shot him a sharp glance.
"Don't judge," I said flatly. "You didn't look at it long enough. Stare at it a little longer—and you might not resist either."
I wasn't exaggerating.
Even I had felt my thoughts being gently pulled away after only a few minutes.
Jasper clenched his jaw. "I don't buy it. How do you fall for someone whose face you can't even see?"
I let out a cold breath.
"That's exactly why. Concealment is part of the technique—Portrait of Aya the Healer . A heart-snaring method. One of the most dangerous."
Kai nodded frantically. "Yes...because she was hidden, I wanted more. I wanted—"
"Enough."
I cut him off before the thought could sink further.
I met his eyes. "Take us to the seller. I need to know where the painting really came from."
Kai flinched as if pricked.
"That...that person was from out of town. I don't know where he went."
His voice weakened with each word.
He was lying.
Again.
I stared at him, my voice low.
"Kai. Are you trying to die?"
His lips quivered. "I...I—"
Before he could finish—
The door creaked open.
---
— The Uninvited Confession —
The sound cut sharply through the silence.
I turned instinctively.
A woman in heels and a tailored suit stepped inside.
"Luna?!"
Jasper's voice broke.
I remembered the name—
Bella's closest friend.
I hadn't expected her. Not now.
Luna's gaze swept across the room. Heavy. Steady.
"I sold him the painting," she said.
Kai's face collapsed. "Luna..."
She didn't look at him.
"I gave it to Kai," she continued. "Everything that happened after—was my doing."
Kai shook violently. "N-no...it wasn't you. I—I took it from your place."
"Took it?"
Jasper stiffened. "You mean stole it?"
Kai wiped sweat from his brow, hands trembling.
"Not...not like that. I couldn't help myself. To me, it wasn't a painting anymore. It was...a woman."
His voice faded, as if afraid she might hear.
Luna shook her head, tears welling.
"No. You didn't steal it."
She drew a sharp breath.
"I left it there on purpose. I wanted someone to take it. You were just the first one who couldn't resist."
Silence flooded the room.
The air felt solid—frozen.
All eyes turned to Luna, uncertain whether she was shielding Kai...or revealing something far worse.
She bit her lip, chest rising and falling unevenly.
When she spoke again, it sounded like a confession forced through clenched teeth.
"There's no point hiding it anymore."
She closed her eyes.
"If this continues...Kai will die. I will die. And more people will die."
A chill slid down my spine.
Because I knew—
Whatever Luna was about to reveal
would expose a darkness far older
and far deeper
than the portrait itself.