Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



"You were just my creation," the girl continued, her words dripping with disdain. "Just a pawn in my storytelling, a character meant to entertain me. And now you have the audacity to stand in my way? How foolish, Damien. You should be groveling on the ground, begging for my mercy, just as you always did."

The truth crashed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf him in its overwhelming force. The woman standing before him, the creator of this novel, was none other than his very own sister from his previous life—the sister who had despised him, who had made his days a living nightmare.

Damien's heart sank, burdened by the weight of their shared history. Memories of her relentless cruelty and scornful laughter flooded his mind, stirring up a storm of anger and sadness within him. He longed to turn away, to escape the painful reminder of his past, but a flicker of defiance ignited within him, refusing to be extinguished.

"I created you just like my useless brother," she sneered, her words like venom. "Look at you now, acting just like him—useless and making other people's lives miserable."

Her words pierced him like a thousand needles, each one reopening old wounds and fueling his growing anger and frustration. Waves of resentment crashed against the shores of his mind, threatening to consume him in a tempest of emotions.

'This cannot be real, can it? It must be a nightmare,' he thought, desperately seeking refuge from the truth. He gazed at her once again, his pupils trembling with recognition. There was no mistaking it—it was her. The dark hair, the texture of it, and those cruel, malevolent eyes that mirrored their mothers. The shape of her face, the height of her nose, and the curve of her lips—everything bore a striking resemblance. Only slightly taller and older.

"Oi, are you even listening to what I'm saying?" she snapped her fingers, drawing nearer. "Ah, you don't understand who I am, or perhaps you're thunderstruck by my presence." She burst into laughter. "Well, well, I certainly created you to resemble that pervert, didn't I? But how did you gain sentience? That's what puzzles me. Out of everyone, it had to be you. Damn it all."

"Alright, you fuck boy," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Listen up, here's the deal." She raised a finger, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Come with me, and I'll grant you all the pleasures of the world, just as you were intended. You won't have to work for it or endure ridicule. Stay in my palace and indulge in all the women I can bring to you. How does that sound?"

As his sister's proposal hung in the air, Damien could feel Aviora, his loyal bond, observing him, searching for his thoughts and emotions. Though she couldn't comprehend the full extent of the situation, her comforting presence provided solace amidst the chaos. He took a deep breath, drawing strength from their unbreakable connection. 'Thank you, dear bond, for grounding me in this tumultuous moment.'

Gazing at his sister, the supposed author of this story, Damien couldn't help but marvel at the twisted irony of it all. How old was she when she penned this novel? Fifteen, sixteen? The thought bewildered him, for he could never have imagined that his own sister would be the mastermind behind the creation that shaped his current existence.

He had never been informed of her role as the author, and the realization struck him with a painful irony. Damien Von Zadkiel, the protagonist of this tale, was based on himself. What a sick joke fate had played on him.

But as his sister remained oblivious to his true identity, he decided to play along, concealing the knowledge of his transmigration. "Oh, my? Such beauty!" he exclaimed, feigning surprise. "Are you perhaps lost, my lady?" He gracefully dropped to one knee, gently taking her hand before she could retract it, and pressed a delicate kiss onto its back. A flicker of fury crossed her face as she staggered back, trembling with rage.

"Get off of me!" she snapped, her voice seething with venom, and delivered a resounding slap across his cheek. The force of the blow sent his head spinning to the side, eliciting a sharp crack as pain surged through him. Grunting, he clutched his stinging cheek, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 'What the fuck! How is she this strong?'

"How dare you, perverted dog, touch me like that," she sneered, towering over him. Disgust and disdain dripped from her words. "You have no shame, do you? You are just like that useless fucking brother of mine. Oh well, who am I kidding? You're just a character, an exact replica of him. Of course, you would act in such a manner." She sighed in exasperation, her frustration evident. "Why did I even bother engaging with you? I should just end you and be done with it."

She delicately pointed a finger at her and a dark beam started to converge on the fingertip. Like a dark, poisonous mist, it gradually expanded, forming a ball of black energy. His sister raised a brow, her lips curling into a devious grin. "I wonder, will it be a knife through the heart? A swift slice across the neck? Or perhaps I should simply shoot you, as that is the way it should have been in the first place. How fitting."

She laughed. "Oh yes, that's it. I'll blast you with a spell that would make the most skilled mages wince with pain, then I'll torture you with my hands. Just like I did with your weakling, pathetic body on the original timeline."

Her eyes glistened with madness, relishing the thought. "Yes, just like that. I'll tear you apart, limb by limb, and you'll beg for mercy. And when you finally break, I'll force-feed you your own entrails. How does that sound? Yes, that's just the way to punish you."

As her diabolical plot unfolded, Damien remained silent, watching her with a hint of amusement. He had no intention of backing down. 'Her madness has peaked. What happened to her?'