Not A Regressor - Chapter 202

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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I Am Not a Regressor Chapter 202
Satiated Hypocrisy and Hungry Virtue (6)
“…What?”
Isabella stared at Kwon O-jin with trembling eyes.
Kwon O-jin extended his forearm, blood streaming freely, and continued speaking with a composed expression.
“You said an Awakened’s fresh blood was necessary to diminish the curse’s influence.”
“H-how did you even know that, Kwon O-jin?!”
Isabella’s eyes widened like those of a startled rabbit, her expression one of shock.
Of course.
She had no way of knowing that I had eavesdropped on her conversation with Roberto from the shadows. Such a reaction was only natural.
“Explanations can wait.”
Fortunately, Demian still hadn’t recovered from the impact of our earlier collision and was stumbling forward at a sluggish pace.
But I didn’t have the luxury of leisurely explaining how I’d learned about the curse.
“Drink quickly.”
“….”
Isabella’s pupils wavered.
Though Kwon O-jin wasn’t a high-ranking Awakened, she remembered the dense mana and mysterious sweetness contained within his blood from the brief taste she’d had before—enough to weaken Zamyron’s curse and more.
But.
“I’m… an executive of the Black Star Society.”
She knew that.
“Helping the Gypsies was all just a means to siphon blood.”
She knew that too.
“Why… why are you going this far for me?”
“Who knows.”
At first, I’d simply thought of her as a useful pawn, much like Lee Woo-hyuk.
But now?
Was I still offering my blood merely for the sake of using her?
‘I have no idea.’
At this point, I couldn’t even clearly discern my own motivations for helping her.
It could be cheap pity, cunning strategy, or a momentary whim.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.”
The reason was irrelevant.
What mattered was that my blood could save her.
“….”
Isabella gazed at me with trembling eyes before carefully opening her mouth.
“…To obtain fresh blood, I need to drink directly from you.”
“Won’t it work if you just drink the blood I give you?”
Isabella quietly shook her head.
“Then there’s no helping it.”
I brought my forearm closer to her lips, gesturing for her to drink directly from me.
Isabella opened her mouth with an anxious expression.
“If you’re drained by an Awakener of the Leech constellation… your soul will become enslaved to me.”
“Enslaved?”
“It’s not like you’ll become a vampire like me, but you won’t be able to go against my commands.”
In other words.
Being drained would turn me into Isabella’s puppet.
“That’s fine.”
“B-but! What if I’m lying right now! What if all of this is just a play I’ve orchestrated to turn Kwon O-jin into a puppet!”
“Was it a play?”
“N-no, it wasn’t!”
She wanted to ask if I could trust her even while risking becoming a puppet, didn’t she.
If that was the case, it didn’t matter.
“It’s fine. Liars don’t have eyes like that.”
I gently caressed Isabella’s cheek as she gazed at me with trembling eyes.
Because I was a liar myself, I could recognize it better than anyone.
That she wasn’t lying.
“…Kwon O-jin.”
Isabella swallowed hard.
Without a word, I extended my forearm to her.
“Haa, haa.”
As the bleeding forearm drew closer, Isabella’s breathing grew ragged.
Like a drug addict presented with their fix, she stared at my forearm with an intense, burning gaze.
Each time her ragged breath touched my forearm, a peculiar tingling sensation coursed through me.
“Then… I’ll begin.”
Isabella’s canines elongated like those of a true vampire.
She opened her mouth slightly, as if to conceal her lengthened fangs.
And then.
“Hup.”
Squelch.
Sharp fangs pierced into my flesh.
The elongated fangs burrowed deep, piercing the blood vessels flowing within, yet I felt no pain.
“Nngh…!”
Instead, what I felt was an electric surge of pleasure.
A thick, viscous mana as sticky as tar spread through my forearm and diffused across my entire body.
My whole body grew hot as if I’d consumed an aphrodisiac, and I felt blood rushing to my lower half.
‘Damn it.’
I quickly pressed my legs together, staring at the tent pitched between my thighs.
I hadn’t anticipated such a side effect from the draining.
“Hup… haah.”
Fortunately, the tent seemed to escape Isabella’s notice, as she remained entirely focused on draining my blood.
‘This can’t be real.’
Isabella swallowed Kwon O-jin’s blood greedily down her throat, her body trembling in disbelief.
It was a world apart from the single sip she’d taken of his blood before.
The magical power was several times more concentrated than it had been then.
And the mysterious energy mixed within his blood felt far more potent as well.
‘This… this is…’
A sensation like lightning striking through her mind.
It wasn’t merely a matter of taste being exquisite.
With each swallow of blood flowing down her throat, a dizzying pleasure and ecstasy she had never experienced in her entire existence flooded through her entire being.
‘If I come to know the taste of blood like this… then…’
She instinctively understood that she would never be able to bring any other blood to her lips again.
“Haah. Haah.”
Isabella drank Kwon O-jin’s blood in a frenzy.
Even if one consumed a lethal dose of narcotics, could such pleasure ever come close?
She wondered if it was her own soul, not Kwon O-jin’s, that was becoming enslaved through this bloodsucking.
The pleasure she felt drinking his blood far exceeded anything her imagination could conjure.
“Phew!”
Isabella pulled her mouth away from Kwon O-jin’s forearm, breathing heavily.
She hadn’t consumed that much blood.
Perhaps four or five mouthfuls at most.
It was a pittance—less than half the blood packet she typically drank to satiate her vampiric urges.
“That’s it already?”
“Ha… ha… That… that is…”
Isabella turned her head away, her face flushed red as an apple.
How could she explain it?
That she felt too good to drink any more.
“This… this much is sufficient.”
The excuse she wrung out wasn’t an attempt to dodge the question.
Despite drinking so little blood, she could feel the curse of Zamiwon that had been gnawing at her stigma vanish as if washed away.
‘No, it’s more than that.’
The Leech Mark stigma originally exerted its greatest power on nights when the Night Sky was blanketed in thick dark clouds.
On moonless nights so dark that even starlight couldn’t pierce through—those were when the Leech Mark’s power was most potent.
But why was it?
Right now, after drinking Kwon O-jin’s blood, her condition was better than on those nights when the Night Sky was shrouded in heavy clouds.
Her skin felt firm as if she’d just had a facial, and each step felt light enough to soar.
And most of all.
‘The bloodlust… it’s gone.’
The vampiric urge that had tormented her constantly—while eating, while sleeping, even with each shallow breath—had vanished completely.
Normally, directly sinking fangs and drawing fresh blood should only intensify the bloodlust further.
“Haaah.”
Isabella hugged herself, letting out a cry of ecstasy.
When she had been plagued by the urge to feed, she had walked each day as if treading beside a precipice.
One misstep and she would plummet into an endless abyss from which there was no return.
Yet the moment she drank Kwon O-jin’s blood, that treacherous cliff transformed into level ground—how could she not tremble with joy?
“Isabella?”
“Rest for a moment, Kwon O-jin.”
Isabella steadied her soaring euphoria and laid Kwon O-jin on the ground.
In her frenzied hunger for blood, she had not noticed, but now she could see that Kwon O-jin’s condition was perilously dire.
Parched lips and clouded eyes.
Ragged breathing that seemed as though it might cease at any moment.
‘In such a state.’
He had asked her to drink from him.
“….”
Isabella’s eyes turned glacial.
She slowly rose to her feet and turned to face Demian.
Grrrrgh!
A deep crimson aura enveloped her body, causing the earth beneath to tremble.
“Ugh….”
Demian, still reeling from the impact of his clash with Kwon O-jin, swallowed hard.
He painfully raised his sword and leveled it toward Isabella.
“Libra’s Constellation, Juben. Grant me the light to stand against darkness—”
Crunch!
With a sickening sound of shattering bone, Demian’s arm—from shoulder to socket—was crushed.
“Aaaaagh!”
Demian seized his mangled right arm and screamed in agony.
“Does it hurt?”
Tap, tap.
Isabella approached with measured steps, her eyes cold as winter frost.
Had Demian been in his prime, it might have been different.
But exhausted from the previous battle, he stood no chance against her.
“Kwon O-jin suffered far more.”
Isabella extended her hand toward Demian with casual grace.
Perhaps it was because she had drunk Kwon O-jin’s blood.
Her magical power surged beyond anything she had known before.
Whoosh!
The crimson aura swirling around her body transformed into razor-sharp blades that surged toward Demian.
“Curse you, wicked witch!”
Demian desperately raised his sword with his remaining left arm and swung it in panic.
The rushing crimson blades collided with Demian’s sword.
Clang!
With a harsh metallic screech, Demian was driven backward.
“Cough! Cough!”
The vertiginous impact flowing through his blade ravaged his insides.
“I cannot… fall here…!”
Clang! Clang! Clang-clang-clang!
Despite the sensation of his internal organs being battered, Demian refused to halt his blade.
One step. Another step.
Cleaving through the cascading crimson steel, Demian advanced toward Isabella.
“Upon those stained by darkness!”
With only his remaining arm, Demian charged forward, wielding his blade with ferocious precision.
The sword in his grip blazed with radiant light, splitting the crimson blade asunder.
“I deliver the judgment of light!”
Whoooooosh!
The light erupting from the blade became a colossal pillar, surging skyward.
When the luminous blade, stretched dozens of meters in length, descended upon Isabella—
“Is that all?”
Isabella flicked her finger with an air of tedium.
Splash!
The blood flowing from Demian’s shattered right arm.
As if possessed of life, it writhed and coiled around his body.
“Ah.”
Demian stared down at the crimson tendrils ensnaring him, his eyes widening in shock.
And then.
“Now, die.”
Crunch-crunch-crunch!
Demian’s body, bound by the blood tendrils, was crushed like a flattened can.
“…”
Isabella gazed coldly down at Demian’s corpse sprawled upon the ground.
Indifferent, she stepped past him toward the trembling figures huddled among the collapsed ruins.
“I… Miss Isabella…”
“That… that is…”
Those who had been shrieking “filthy witch” at Isabella mere moments ago now retreated awkwardly, forcing strained smiles onto their faces.
“We had no choice… under Paulo’s orders…”
Crunch.
With a casual wave of her hand, Isabella crushed the skull of a middle-aged woman whose face was caked in makeup.
“Kyaaaaaah!”
“M-mad!!”
Screams erupted from all directions.
Isabella turned to regard them with eyes as cold as frost, her footsteps echoing—click, click—as she advanced.
Crunch! Crack! Snap!
With each step she took, the blood vessels extending from her body crushed the fleeing Branch Family members.
After taking several more steps.
“Ha, haha.”
In the deepest part of the collapsed ruins.
The Middle-aged Man, who had been curled up like a hermit crab, staggered to his feet.
He spread both arms wide and smiled.
The same smile that remained in her faded album.
A tender, affectionate smile.
“My beloved princess… you must have suffered greatly all this time.”
“…Father.”
Isabella gazed at the smiling Paulo and bit her lip gently.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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