In 19th-century England, Lyle, a war veteran who returned injured, visits Viscount Cliff to salvage his ruined family estate. Cliff offers to clear Lyle’s debts and reclaim his mortgaged home in exchange for Lyle relinquishing all rights to him and painting twenty paintings within a year. Lyle accepts the proposal.

While working as Cliff’s employee at the Clifford estate, painting as agreed, Lyle struggles with war trauma and repeatedly clashes with Cliff, who is unaware of his circumstances, causing emotional wounds. Cliff, disappointed by his first impression of Lyle, also harbors conflicting feelings toward him.

*

Deeply wounded in his pride, Cliff seized Lyle’s throat with both hands, gripping tightly. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to press down with his thumbs. Acting on impulse, he was shocked by his own behavior, his hands trembling as they held Lyle’s neck. In his eyes, a whirlwind of countless emotions—love, resentment, fear, surprise, and hatred—flashed by.

Cliff’s face filled Lyle’s vision, a face torn between abandoning pride or holding onto it. Lyle, goading him, urged Cliff not to give up his pride.

“Would the esteemed Viscount of Clifford deign to dirty his hands with something so vulgar?”

Though his breath was constricted, the grip wasn’t tight enough to make him lose consciousness, so while it was painful, Lyle could endure it. He raised a hand and grabbed Cliff’s left wrist. As Cliff reacted, resisting forcefully, Lyle, as if to prove he hadn’t been using his full strength until now, seized Cliff’s wrist and pulled it downward.

Startled by Lyle’s immense grip strength, Cliff’s eyes silently questioned what he was trying to do. Lyle, as if to make a point, slid the captured hand down to Cliff’s left waist, where he grasped the holstered revolver along with Cliff’s hand.

“…You?”

As Cliff’s eyes widened in alarm, Lyle swiftly drew the revolver from the holster. The weapon, seemingly unused, had not a single scratch on its metal surface, and only one bullet was loaded in the five-chamber cylinder. Lyle capped the chamber with the single bullet and c*cked the hammer. At the click of the bullet locking into place, Cliff’s eyes grew even wider.

“Why go through the trouble of using your strength when you have this?”

“……”

“Does this feel familiar?”

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