Transmigrated into a reversed world

Viktor lowered his head in shame, unaware that he was almost seen as a pervert in Cyra’s eyes.

“I... forgot,” he squeezed out, his face flushing red with embarrassment and shame.

He wished he could turn back time and undo his foolish mistake, but there was no taking it back. Instead, he had to face Cyra’s stunned expression.

Cyra couldn’t help but burst out laughing as his words sank in.

"How could you forget something so important? But during that bomb incident, you took everyone into your space. How?" she asked, between laughter, and the tension in the room eased.

“But I remembered at the last minute... If I hadn’t wanted to gain your pity, why would I allow him to choke me?” Viktor refuted in frustration. He quickly covered his mouth, but it was too late—he had already exposed himself.

“Oh~ you’re cruel to yourself just to see my reaction. Viktor... oh, Viktor, I really want to spank you so badly you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. What were you thinking?” Cyra flicked his forehead, her smile fading and being replaced by a frown.

Viktor wilted and lowered his head, sensing he had truly angered her this time.

He didn’t know why he had blurted out those words. He, an assassin trained to keep secrets, had just made an unbelievable blunder.

It seems he was too comfortable in her presence, so he wasn’t as guarded as before.

The realization dawned on him, but he didn’t feel scared. He was intrigued by the feeling of letting his guard down around someone.

Seeing his dazed expression, she let out a helpless sigh, then froze as Kyle’s tongue ran down her neck.

"How long are you going to keep feeding?" Cyra asked in a flat tone. Her voice seemed to snap Kyle back to his senses, and his eyes widened in shock.

He retracted his fangs and was about to dash out of the mansion when she caught him by the collar.

"Where did you think you were going? I have a cold room filled with rare blood types, and they’re fresh, but why do you refuse to drink any of them?”

Kyle froze at her question, his eyes falling on her bloodstained neck, and his fangs throbbed unconsciously.

Cyra noticed his action, realizing the deadly temptation her blood posed to their kind. It was choosing a rare delicacy over watery porridge.

“Even if you’re a picky eater, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you nearly killed Viktor during your hunger frenzy. You’ll be punished so it sticks in your mind the next time you try to starve yourself.” Cyra’s tone was deadly serious. Her gray eyes, sharp with unquestionable authority, fixed on Kyle, and his breath caught as unease settled heavily in his chest.

Viktor snickered in the background. He couldn’t wait to see Kyle embarrass himself.

“You’re not escaping punishment either.” Cyra turned to him and added.

Viktor froze in disbelief. The victim was being punished alongside the perpetrator.

“It’s unfair! I was minding my own business when he barged in and tried to suck my blood. I didn’t do anything.” Viktor complained, feeling truly wronged by her words.

Kyle’s expression twisted in disgust at the thought that he had almost drunk Viktor’s blood.

Viktor caught the look, and fury exploded within him.

“What do you mean by that disgusted look on your face?! I haven’t even shown my disgust at a stuck-up bastard like you trying to feed on me! How dare you!” he raged, lunging at Kyle, desperate to wipe that expression off his face with his fist.

Kyle refused to be outdone. He pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and slowly wiped his fingers, as though cleansing himself of the filth of having touched Viktor.

Cyra pulled Kyle away, his collar wrinkling as he instinctively frowned.

Viktor was infuriated at missing his hit and even more enraged at Kyle’s attitude.

“How come you didn’t hide in your space, but instead deliberately tried to make me drink that disgusting blood of yours? It’s not my fault you’re injured. If you hadn’t stopped to disgust me, how would this situation have escalated?” Kyle pushed all the blame onto Viktor without hesitation.

“It’s my fault? So everyone who stops you to greet you will also be at fault? How would I know you had gone berserk and would jump me as soon as I called you—” Viktor was cut off before he could finish.

“Then why did I attack all the staff who greeted me, huh? It has to be your fault. That annoying voice of yours might have made me snap,” Kyle retorted, convinced Viktor was the reason he lost control. He recalled heading toward the cold room to feed when everything had suddenly gone red.

Cyra rubbed between her brows, their raised voices causing her head to ache.

She wondered how giving the punishment escalated into a full-blown argument?

If she didn’t stop them soon, they would come to blows. Viktor was already reaching for his dagger, and Kyle was subtly doing the same.

“Enough!” she called out sharply, and they fell silent, shooting each other hateful glares.

“Kyle, you won’t be receiving your end-of-month bonus. You’ll also be locked in direct sunlight and not fed for a day,” Cyra ordered, listing his punishment with an emotionless expression.

Her eyes gleamed with the seriousness of her words—she wasn’t going to eat him alive; he had nearly killed someone.

Kyle hummed in response. He knew he was at fault, no matter how he tried to shift the blame to Viktor, so he accepted his punishment without protest.

Then Cyra turned to Viktor, who put on a pitiful look when he felt her gaze on him.

“You are banned from entering the torture room for a month, and fifty whips for putting yourself in danger.”

Viktor’s eyes light up at her last words. He felt like he was being rewarded, not punished.

“Yes, I’ll go get the whip,” Viktor responded quickly before she could change her mind.

‘Pervert.’ Kyle muttered under his breath at the sight of his elated expression.

Cyra’s lips twitched slightly at Viktor’s impatience and wondered if she should have changed the punishment to something less painful instead.

Cyra turned on her heel and headed toward her room to wash up and rest.

Viktor jogged up to her, asking curiously where they had gone and how their date had gone.

Kyle watched their retreating figures, his fingers drifting to his bloodstained lips. He found himself licking the dried blood away, savoring the rich taste.

Realizing what he was doing, he quickly withdrew his hand and straightened his collar.

“Ahem... It’s the hunger getting to me. I need to go to the cold room for some blood,” he muttered guiltily to himself and hurried off.

Meanwhile, Zane had reached Greed’s hideout. The rocky mountain cave, once bare, was now furnished with basic furniture.

A bed was placed in the farthest corner of the spacious cave, and a solar-powered thermocooler was stocked with a variety of snacks, beverages, and food.

Greed was sprawled out on his couch, a hologram screen enlarged in front of him, displaying a movie.

He was so deeply absorbed in the scene that he didn’t notice Zane’s presence.

“So this is what you’ve been doing all day. It’s time to enroll you in a school,” Zane said. His envious tone startled Greed so badly that he nearly shifted into his true form.

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