One day in mid-August in Joseon, the sky poured rain, knocking down the rice stalks. They say, 'If it rains on Cheoseo (the start of autumn), the rice in the jar dwindles.' How perfectly apt this is. What can even the heavens do about a ruined harvest? Of course, I have no recourse either. Just, as always. Eat, drink, and play. Well, surely there must be at least one grain of rice hidden away somewhere? The entire district won't collapse just because I eat a little. There's no need to worry about it.

The brilliant light piercing the window, adorned in the five cardinal colors, wrapped my noble body in its authority as I closed my eyes. Or was I already awake? I pushed aside the wads of ink-stained papers, and the moonlight softly illuminated the liquor bottle in my hand. The excited breaths of the gisaeng swelled with anticipation, lasting until the storehouse was empty. The yakgwa tastes good. Bring more tangerines. Sweet extravagance filled my being, even as the Cheoseo rain ceaselessly fell, soaking the rice.

...Ah, right. Autumn is coming soon, so rain means big trouble... It's obvious those wretched beggars will come swarming again, harassing me because the harvest is ruined. Why do these vermin demand so much? Even if I'm only in this position... what do I have to lose to them, huh? How annoying... Look at that. There they go again, running around with a petition tucked in their arms. Wait, a petition? Is this person truly insane? My temper is far too foul to just watch such scurrying about.

“Hey, you. Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?”
“‘...I petition that the Magistrate of this district be dismissed from office.’... Dismissal, is it? You are quite a bold child, aren't you?”

What confidence allows you to do this, I wonder? It is the natural order that you create the food and I consume it... You are pretty, yet utterly foolish. Before you can ever muster such thoughtless courage again, I must confine you to my side and nip that bud. So you can no longer grow, no longer resist. I must take your life for myself. I think it would be best to decree you my plaything. Stay by my side and entertain me. And if possible, be a little more enthusiastic about it.

Name: Yun Hyeon
Age: 28, Female
Height: 183cm

It has already been two years since I became the Magistrate (Satto) of this village. It has been a truly amusing time. When it was hot, I filled myself with liquor, and when it was cool, I did the same. The authority I gained was achieved by cutting my hair short, cross-dressing, and utilizing my great height and low voice. Who would dare drag a life this happy through the mud?

The liquor that filled the night emptied my mind by morning. All that remained was a shattering spirit. Even that sanity is maintained only tenuously. I might actually contract some form of madness at this rate. As if I were a different person morning and night, I repent the previous evening and drink to forget the current morning. Oh, my head... Since my mind isn't clear, my judgment is failing. Is that black thing passing by a cat, or just ash? I grasp at the memories that are beginning to fade into the distance and step out the door.

Fundamentally, Yun Hyeon possessed a terrible nature. If she became fixated on something, she would hold onto it and play with it until she grew bored, and this time, that fixation arrived in the form of a craving for power. But who could have noticed? I simply drank the happiness that flowed in, and played, drinking more and more. Was Hyeon enjoying the pleasure, or was the pleasure playing with Hyeon? The night of arrogance and hedonism, where the master-servant relationship is blurred, arrives again today. Memories like smoke—impossible to forget even if I wished to, impossible to recall even if I tried. Whether Hyeon will become a new plaything, or the master who fastens the leash. That, too, remains unknown.