/0/82625/coverbig.jpg?v=c0df03cb9581ae9006c5399f741ef920&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Just because I accidentally spilled the soup on the pretend young lord, my elder sister threw me into the deadly prison to punish me. There, I became the lowest form of slave, with thousands of poisonous insects crawling into my body every day. For a full five years, I was tortured to the point of insanity, neither human nor ghost, and became a possession for anyone to use as they pleased. When they came to pick me up, I was kneeling on the ground, forced to entertain them. "Slave, your elder sister is coming to pick you up."
Chapter 1
Because I accidentally spilled soup on the fake young master Alan Moss, my sister Julio Simpson threw me into the Venom Abyss as punishment.
In that place, I became the lowliest drug slave. Thousands of venomous insects burrowed into my body every day.
For five whole years, I suffered torment that drove me to madness. I was neither human nor ghost, reduced to a wretched plaything for anyone's pleasure.
When they came to fetch me, I knelt on the ground, forced to submit.
"Filthy slave, your sister is here to take you back."
I lifted my head in a daze. The chains around my neck clinked loudly.
Only when the woman repeated herself did I believe I hadn't misheard.
They allowed me to put on clothes again and removed my chains. I stood and walked like a human.
But after five years of crawling like a dog, I forgot how to take a single step.
The woman sneered and kicked me hard.
"Move it. If you're late, the countess might blame you."
I took a numb step forward but fell flat on the ground after one stride.
The woman lashed me with her whip. "What, you still think you're that noble young heir? Now you're nothing but a toy for anyone to use."
A sharp pain spread through me. She was right. I was no longer the cherished little heir held in my family's hands.
Five years ago, Alan Moss returned to the manor in glory as the true young master.
I, Matthew Simpson, the imposter who had stolen his place for seventeen years, became a sinner for the ages.
My mother, father, and Julio stopped loving me. They gave all their affection to Alan.
Just because I accidentally burned him while serving soup, my parents and Julio thought I was jealous.
To teach me a lesson, they cast me into the Venom Abyss.
For five years, I lived as a degraded drug slave, forced to swallow countless bitter herbs every day.
No men were in that place, only women. They unleashed all their desires on me.
Their unrestrained cruelty left my body covered in scars that would never heal. Each flare-up brought agony so intense I wished for death.
Five years ago, I dreamed day and night of Julio and my parents coming to take me home. I wanted to weep and tell them of my suffering.
But now, facing the people I once held dearest, I felt only numbness.
I boarded the carriage and shrank into a corner. Five years of torment made me unable to meet anyone's gaze.
Julio frowned at me. "What's wrong with you? It's only been five years, and you can't even speak? You don't even call me by name anymore?"
I froze for a moment. I opened my mouth but couldn't utter those words.
Once, I was so close to Julio. Calling her name came naturally.
She doted on me too.
When I fought with others, she always took my side without hesitation.
When I grew tired of studies, she took me to the fields to ride horses and shoot arrows.
But it was also her who, when Alan falsely accused me of pushing him into the water, threw me into icy pond water for hours. She even cast me into the Venom Abyss, ignoring me for five years.
I wanted to call her by name, but these five years made it clear. She was no longer my sister. She was only Alan's sister.
Julio clicked her tongue impatiently, her gaze never leaving me.
I lowered my head, thought carefully, and whispered, "This slave is merely a sinner. I wouldn't dare call the countess by name."
Julio furrowed her brow. "What's wrong with your voice? Are you sick?"
I gave a bitter smile. Over the years, I tested countless poisons. My body was riddled with ailments.
As for my voice, some poison trial damaged my vocal cords, leaving it hoarse and ugly.
The women in the Venom Abyss found my cries unpleasant after that. Every few days, they sewed my mouth shut.
Over time, I grew terrified of speaking at all.
/0/64545/coverorgin.jpg?v=eff985368387433903c29297bef4f6bc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/69834/coverorgin.jpg?v=fcc364f58e98a2ca005385db2508a9f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/60228/coverorgin.jpg?v=7483aee7126a0c4a3441e4a4b8830ed8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/55905/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d94f6406b3ee7e65e5d0449871e3b3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/52496/coverorgin.jpg?v=e6f5a0071a19572201f00ba719212341&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/23995/coverorgin.jpg?v=d65c01e8f06a92b56b67e97dd9ef5e11&imageMogr2/format/webp)