Transmigrated into a reversed world

Greed howled in grief and unwillingness. The next second, he sat upright on the couch and switched off the hologram screen, looking prim and proper, as though his relaxed demeanor had never existed and had merely been a figment of Zane’s imagination.

“Pretend. Keep pretending. I’m enrolling you now. I can’t be the only one suffering while you’re having the time of your life up here.” Zane’s tone was laced with displeasure, a gleam of envy flickering in his eyes as he glanced at Greed, who was obviously chubbier than before.

“Master, I promise not to watch drama or eat snacks again... please don’t send me to school. I wouldn’t be able to see Master if I go. I’ll miss Master.” Greed pleaded with a hint of flattery, his expression one of distress, as if he would really miss Zane.

Zane snorted in response, a mirthless smile curling his lips as he watched Greed become invested in his acting.

"Don’t waste your breath. Maybe I should enroll you in acting school. You seem to have talent for that." Zane’s words made Greed shut up quickly.

Although he loved watching movies, that didn’t mean he wanted to act.

He had only wanted to laze around until his master needed him for a fight, but the determination in Zane’s eyes told him his leisurely days were over.

"Alright. Woo-hoo. My master is so heartless. My poor heart can’t take this." Greed wailed dramatically as Zane registered him online without a moment’s hesitation.

...

Cyra had washed up, the afternoon sun high in the sky, causing a frown to cross her face.

It couldn’t be helped; she needed to venture into the scorching sun to administer Kyle’s punishment.

She knew that if he didn’t suffer, he wouldn’t learn. What had happened would repeat itself, and she might not be there to stop him.

She put on a long coat with a hood, covering herself thoroughly against the sun.

Stepping out of her room, she headed to the torture room to retrieve the silver chain.

It let out a sharp clanking sound as the links rubbed against one another, the ends tapping against the ground in a strange rhythm.

Kyle heard the sound, straightened up, and his sleepy eyes met the chain, and he flinched.

He now realized she was serious about the punishment. The thought of going out in this harsh sun filled Kyle with resistance.

He felt the urge to run away, but he knew he couldn’t outrun her and had to face the punishment.

"I wouldn’t forget to feed again. Forgive me this once." Kyle swallowed his pride and pleaded in a humble tone as he edged toward the edge of the couch.

In a blink, Cyra appeared in front of him. Her gray eyes were a bit cold, which made Kyle avert his gaze.

"If you were a different vampire, I would have roasted you to ashes in the hot sun for daring to harm my darling." Cyra leaned closer, her chilling tone ringing in his ears as she gripped his chin.

She pulled his face closer to hers, her breath washing over his face as she whispered.

"For some reason... I can’t bring myself to kill my little pet."

Her words left Kyle stunned, unresponsive as she dragged him out of the mansion and toward the forest.

The word ’pet’ kept ringing in his ears like an unbroken record. His slow heartbeat began to thump loudly in his chest, and a flush crept across his face.

He was so lost in his emotions that he ignored the sun’s glare on his skin.

Then, realizing his thoughts had strayed, he slapped himself inwardly.

You are here to kill her! You must kill her and regain your dignity as a skilled assassin. Snap out of it, Kyle!’ He tried to remind himself of his main objective, refusing to admit that her words had stirred his heart—or that his feelings for her were gradually changing.

Cyra didn’t know what was going through his mind; she only felt he was unusually silent.

’Maybe he realized he was wrong and had accepted his punishment,’ she thought before stopping in front of a boulder in the direct glare of the sun.

"This will do. Undress." Cyra instructed. Her words caused Kyle to hug himself and step backward--his gaze was filled with shock, as if he were now realizing she was a pervert.

Cyra’s lips twitched slightly under his gaze. "Only your top. Don’t let your mind run wild. Though I have a strong sex drive... I don’t force myself on someone unwilling."

Kyle cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed and wishing he could bang his head against the boulder and disappear.

He almost imagined her having her way with him while he was bound to the rock. The image nearly gave him a nosebleed.

"C-Coming," he stuttered, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off, a shy flush spreading across his face.

Cyra’s gaze lingered on his toned physique, silently appreciating the defined lines of his abs and well-sculpted pecs.

Under her scrutiny, Kyle grew self-conscious. He didn’t know where to put his hands, so he could only clutch his shirt like an anchor.

"Sit," Cyra said, averting her gaze as she walked toward the boulder.

Kyle hummed under his breath, neatly folded his shirt, and placed it on top of the boulder after making sure it was perfectly in order.

Cyra watched his actions without comment. Once he was seated, she wrapped the silver chain around his waist and secured him to the boulder.

"I’ll let you out tomorrow afternoon. Reflect on your mistake," Cyra said as she straightened, noticing Kyle beginning to feel the sting of the silver chain against his skin.

He was lucky he had drunk her blood. If he had been an ordinary vampire, his skin would already have begun to burn, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body.

Kyle didn’t respond to her words; his body reacted uncomfortably to the sun and the silver chains.

A prickling sensation enveloped his body, like tiny ants crawling over him and taking small bites of his flesh.

Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, sliding down his face and onto the chains, which let out a sizzling sound.

A flicker of pity crossed Cyra’s eyes. She felt the punishment might be too harsh, but she shook the feeling off and walked away without hesitation.

It remained Viktor’s punishment, and the thought of it made Cyra let out a helpless sigh. To Viktor, it was more of a reward than a punishment.

She had wanted to hurry to the mansion, but her steps slowed as she enjoyed the chirping of insects and the rustling of leaves.

The wind blew petals and leaves into the air. She would have lingered longer to enjoy the peaceful forest, but the sun was already getting to her.

She had no choice but to flash back toward the mansion. She removed her coat and headed to her room to rest — she would deal with Viktor later.

Meanwhile, Viktor waited impatiently with a whip in hand, and minutes ticked by without the sound of her footsteps heading toward his room; his excitement gradually faded until it was gone.

He tossed the whip to the ground in frustration, his gaze falling on the sun, and he realized she might come to him that night.

The thought made him perk up, and he planned to clean up nicely for her.

"Hmm. I should go for a spa and a haircut." He murmured aloud, liking the idea. He hurried out of the room and toward the garage.

Picking a car, he got in and drove off, heading to the town.

Zane, who had dealt with Zane, returned to the mansion and was surprised by how quiet it was.

There were no signs of Kyle or Viktor—he had been expecting Viktor’s curious questions, but Viktor wasn’t even present.

Zane went up the stairs, opened the bedroom door, and found Cyra asleep.

So he quietly entered and headed toward the bathroom to wash up.

He changed into a comfortable top and shorts before leaving the room.

Since she was asleep, he would take this chance to steal some ice cream from the workshop.

He wondered what new flavor Louis had created. The thought made his mouth water, and he carefully shut the door behind him.

Without delay, he walked toward the workshop, where the hum of machines and the lingering, sweet smell filled the air.

A crowd of workers worked steadily and without disorder, each knowing the task they were to perform.

Zane’s eyes zeroed in on Louis’s busy figure; Louis was instructing some staff on how much fruit to add to the juicer.

As Zane drew closer, Louis noticed him and called out with a knowing smile.

"Are you here again for another test of the new products?" Louisa asked lightly, already knowing Zane was using the excuse to indulge in sweets.

"You made another flavor? You’re so amazing. Give me a bowl to taste." Zane praised sincerely, then calmly requested a taste.

"But Madam Cyra had warned me not to give you too much ice cream," Louis said in a hesitant tone, revealing he was in a bind.

Zane’s eyes gleamed with calculation, but his expression remained neutral.

"She said not too much, but that you shouldn’t give me a taste. And how would you know what a "How can a product satisfy consumers without feedback from a potential customer like me?" Zane said reasonably, his serious tone almost deceiving Louis into thinking he genuinely wanted to help rather than indulge his sweet tooth.

"I can give you a teacup-sized serving to taste, nothing more," Louis compromised, knowing Zane wouldn’t leave without getting a taste.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Zane’s face, but his eyes soon lit up with an idea.

"Okay, one cup of each ice cream. I need to make sure the flavors haven’t changed," Zane said matter-of-factly, his firm tone making it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Louis merely offered him a flat smile, then wisely remained silent. Instead, he instructed a staff member to prepare Zane’s order.

"I’m planning to add fruit cakes, but I’m still working on the right recipe. Once I perfect it, I’ll send some to the mansion for you to taste and give feedback." Louis deliberately emphasized the word "feedback," clearly recalling Zane’s earlier claim.

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