The Nights of Samcheon

The man who despises me more than garbage was once the one who whispered love to me.

19th-century England,

when the groundwork for a war to export opium was being laid.

Macquuan Lester, the head of Cloud Dewsion, England’s largest trading company and a major opium trafficker, hopes to seize power by riding the wave of war.

At a salon he attends for lobbying, he encounters Aaron Wizfieldon, the libertine of London high society, and comes to despise the man whose refined exterior hides bizarre behavior.

"A snake-oil mouse."

"...You’ve completely lost your mind."

"Haha, you’re right.

I might really be in a properly insane state..."

The duke’s heir, who fiercely opposes the proposed military deployment.

A man born with overflowing wealth, honor, and power.

A man whose only role is to stand at the top and look down at the mud beneath his shoes.

While Macquuan comes to view him as a horrific object of hatred, he suffers a fall in a hunting competition and loses all his memories.

When he barely opens his eyes in a shabby old cabin, the dazzlingly handsome man claims to be England’s greatest artist—and that Macquuan is his servant.

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

Aaron set the wooden carving back on the table and gave him a cold sidelong glance.

"You should call me master."

"...Master?"

A master of the cabin who is only handsome on the surface, but irritable, arrogant, and violent.

"Are you naturally this savage?"

"What? What did you just..."

"I asked whether you always act this way toward someone who’s worried about you."

Yet in the isolated cabin where the two of them are the only people, with no one else in sight, Macquuan Lester begins to develop feelings he cannot define for his master, who always returns covered in wounds...