CHAPTER 54: YOU DARE TOUCH MY BOY?!

"..."

My master’s face clouded with unease at my words before she spoke. "You’re right. Your sleeping habits are terrible, aren’t they?"

"Huh?!" I blinked, caught off guard.

"You kick me in your sleep, flailing like you’re unloading all your pent-up resentment toward your master under the guise of bad habits."

Just like that, she diagnosed me with sleepwalking. I tried to fix my sleeping habits in my own way, but it was no use—I slept so deeply it was almost unnatural.

"Master, even if you say that out of nowhere, there’s no one around to—"

"Someone’s been kidnapped, I tell you! How many times do I have to say we need a tracker?!"

Her voice cut through our banter, sharp with urgency. My heart pounded faster with every passing second.

The Blood Cult.

Those vile bastards wouldn’t leave a hostage unscathed. Anyone who’d traveled with me, even briefly, would face torture to extract every scrap of information. If that failed, they’d turn to sinister curses to shatter their minds.

The longer we delayed, the slimmer the chance he’d remain unharmed.

"Even if I have to scour this entire region alone..." I muttered, reckless determination rising.

Rumble.

A familiar sound, like rolling thunder, reached my ears.

"Looks like rain’s coming," my master said. "Let’s head inside."

"Those clouds don’t look normal," I replied, squinting at the sky.

Dark, ominous clouds had gathered, heavy and foreboding. They felt strangely familiar.

"...Ye So-cheon?" I whispered.

Ye So-cheon, the Thunder Sword—a friend and rival I hadn’t seen much since the war with the Blood Cult ended. Those clouds reminded me of the ones that loomed when we fought side by side.

"Is she nearby?" I wondered aloud.

For a moment, I hoped she might be in the area, but the odds were slim. Since the war, she’d rarely left Mount Kunlun. The chances of her being here in Anhui were next to none.

If not her, then these clouds had another purpose.

"...Maybe."

I started walking in the direction the clouds drifted, clinging to a desperate hunch.

"Huff... huff... damn it... a mere barbarian..."

Mardin glared at the man before him, panting heavily.

He’d assumed the man’s resistance would have a limit, so he kept trying to brainwash or drug him. But aside from a slightly dazed expression, there was no effect.

"Master, we’re burning through precious herbs," the woman said cautiously. "You’re low on mana, too. Why not rest?"

"What, you think I can’t break a measly mental barrier like this?!" Mardin snapped, his pride stung.

"I only meant it’s a waste for you to expend energy on something so trivial," she said smoothly.

She’d learned how to handle him. This vampire would never admit weakness, so she had to stroke his ego to get through to him. He had the temperament of a child.

"If there’s anything else you’re curious about, I’ll torture him all night for answers," she continued. "You should rest and recover from your journey, Master. Menial tasks like this are better left to someone as lowly as me."

"...Hmph. True. No need for me to waste my energy on torture," Mardin said, smirking, clearly pleased.

"Fine. I’ll rest. Make that man obedient. The sunlight’s been throwing me off anyway."

Unlike their original world’s sun, which could melt vampires, this world’s sunlight only weakened them—a trait inherited from their kind. Still, it allowed them to operate during the day, if only for a while.

"Rest well, Master. I’ll handle everything," the woman said.

After Mardin left, she turned to the fortune-teller, who swayed in a daze.

Sway, sway.

"Can you hear me?" she asked.

"Hehe... feels good..." he mumbled.

"He’s definitely not brainwashed," she muttered.

She knew what brainwashed people were like—lifeless eyes, silent compliance, nothing more. Though she couldn’t see his eyes under the hood, his current state wasn’t that. He seemed more like he was drunk or lost in a haze.

"...Hmm."

Glancing around to ensure Mardin was gone, she leaned closer to the fortune-teller. That scent she’d noticed earlier hit her again, intoxicating and irresistible.

Gulp.

Her mouth watered, her fangs itching to sink into his neck.

She couldn’t bite the hostage without permission—not until Mardin returned. But he didn’t seem to care much about this one.

"He won’t mind," she murmured.

She’d already said she’d do whatever it took to make him talk. If Mardin returned and made a fuss or tried to dispose of him, it wouldn’t matter.

A scent this divine was worth risking her life for.

Rustle, rustle.

Her hand slipped inside his hood, brushing against his neck where her fangs would pierce. His skin was soft, fragile, stirring both hunger and desire with a single touch.

If she missed this chance, she might never encounter such an exquisite specimen again.

"That tickles..." he mumbled.

"Stay still," she whispered. "It’ll only hurt for a moment when I bite."

"...Wait. That line sounds kinda weird—"

Had she slipped up? His voice sharpened, as if his mind was clearing.

She hurried, leaning into the shadows of his hood, her fangs aimed at his delicate neck—

BOOOOM!

A deafening crash, like a wall collapsing, echoed from above.

That must’ve snapped him out of it.

"What—what’s that?! What are you doing?!" he yelped.

"...Tch."

He was fully awake now.

No matter. A quick bite, a few gulps of blood—it wouldn’t take long—

"What’s all this noise?! Go check it out now!" Mardin’s voice roared from elsewhere.

Grit.

Cursing her infuriating master under her breath, she turned and headed toward the upper floor where the sound had come from.

"...An intruder?" she muttered.

At the source of the noise stood a woman, her face contorted with fury, her sword gleaming in her grip.

Shhhk!

"You dare... you dare touch that child..." she snarled. Her voice, seething with rage, was the last thing I saw.

"Damn it—get up, you test subjects!"

Feeling the death of his last servant, Mardin unleashed every experimental body in his lab. These were soldiers meant for a later war, when they’d reveal their true nature and plunge this world into chaos. But right now, survival was all that mattered to him.