'This woman is a crazy BITCH!!'
The thought screamed through his mind, ricocheting against the shattered remains of his SS-rank composure. It wasn't a deduction. It was a raw, primal realization of absolute survival.
He was being consumed.
But not eaten. Plundered.
The ancient, suffocating pressure of her killing intent had completely evaporated, replaced by something infinitely more dangerous—the sheer, bottomless gravity of a vampire queen feeding.
"Hgghh—!!"
Cruxius's back arched, his spine locking as another violent spasm wracked his frame.
The pain was still there—a sharp, piercing anchor buried in the most sensitive flesh of his body—but the vampire venom was overriding it with terrifying speed. The aphrodisiac effect wasn't a slow burn; it was a detonation. It flooded his nervous system like liquid fire, turning every pain receptor inside out, converting the agony of the puncture into a blinding, white-hot ecstasy that made his vision actually blur at the edges.
