Daily Life of a Transmigrating Villain

Chapter 73- Not a chance

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He pulled her closer, adjusting his grip as he lowered himself to the floor, settling her in his lap. Her legs naturally parted, falling to either side of his hips, while his own legs crossed beneath her, forming a stable base.

One of his arms remained wrapped around her waist, holding her upright, while the other gently guided her thigh, closing any remaining distance between them.

Her head slumped against his shoulder as he cradled her body, but there was no intimacy in his movements—only purpose.

[ Use of Healing Potion (can even regenerate the severed limb) detected ]

The healing potion appeared in his mouth, and without a second thought, he pressed his lips against hers, ensuring the potion would reach her before it was too late.

As though something far darker than the abyss itself were stretching its hand into the void where she was dissolving, a sensation suddenly engulfed Visana, causing her eyes to widen.

She was yanked back from the precipice of death, consciousness flickering as something warm and soft pressed against her blood-drenched lips, muffling her voice.

The sharp sting of pain from her forehead faded, replaced by an unexpected sensation on her lips—Damien's mouth pressed against hers.

"Mmmmph…" She whimpered, her heart weakly fluttering in her chest, but she knew it was momentary due to the shock and that she would soon die.

Visana felt a deep sense of vulgarity and disgust at this man who, even in her dying moments, dared to kiss her while claiming his love for her daughter.

It provided her with a twisted sense of assurance that, even after her death, he would find himself cornered with nothing.

It didn't matter that he had taken her first kiss; in the end, she felt victorious, knowing she would leave this world with his final struggle of helplessness etched in her mind.

Yet, buried beneath her anger was a profound sadness as the memories of her child's growth slowly dissolved—moments where she had earnestly tried to be a good mother were slipping away, just like her life.

A small tear began its descent down her cheek, a tear that had never come even at the sight of her sister's death.

His breath was hot, mingling with the metallic tang of her blood smeared across her mouth.

The warmth of his lips surged through her, jolting her from the dark abyss she had been prepared to embrace.

Without warning, a sudden wetness invaded her mouth—the healing potion sliding over her tongue as Damien forced it past her lips.

Their kiss deepened with every heartbeat.

"Slurp...uhm.."

The faint sound echoed in the otherwise silent room, the kiss's quiet intensity piercing the air.

Her instinct was to resist, yet her body, limp and on the verge of death, betrayed her.

The burning sensation of the potion spread through her, a strange vitality mingling with the overwhelming revulsion she felt towards him.

Her muscles trembled, caught in a battle between conflicting sensations—disgust and an unfamiliar surge of life vying for dominance over her senses.

"Gulp... gulp..." Each pulse of the potion surged into her with the kiss, carried by Damien's lips in slow, deliberate movements.

He cradled the back of her head, holding her close, as if refusing to let her slip away from him—not even into death.

He pressed harder, his lips firm against hers, as if sealing a pledge that he would not allow her to die under his watch.

Her thoughts, once filled with anger and bitterness, blurred, disjointed by the steady rhythm of their kiss.

She felt his tongue brush against hers briefly, sending an unsettling jolt through her paralyzed body.

The wet sounds of their lips meeting—smacking softly together—only intensified the surreal horror of the moment.

"Slurp... smack..." The sound echoed louder in her ears.

Visana's eyelids fluttered, her breath quickening. Understanding that whatever liquid was going down her throat was healing her, she tried to look at him, although not from passion—her mind churned with pure confusion and indignation.

How could this man, this monster who had torn apart her body and soul, now be using a kiss to save her?

She wanted to bite his tongue, to spit the potion back in his face, but her strength failed her.

The bitter taste of the healing potion, now mingled with the warmth of his saliva, slid down her throat.

"Mmhhh... slurp..."

With each passing moment, her shattered bones began to realign, her body healing under the effects of the potion he forced upon her.

The kiss was relentless, the obscenity of their connection heightening the discomfort within her.

Yet, her traitorous body began to respond. Her heartbeat, once erratic and faint, started to stabilize.

The life that had been slipping away was being tugged back into her, one breath, one kiss at a time.

"Slurp... smack... gulp...."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Damien pulled back, his lips leaving hers with a wet pop.

He gazed down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable, a trace of her blood smeared at the corner of his mouth.

He languidly licked it away, as if savoring the taste.

"You're not dying yet," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Not after revealing how useful you can be."

Damien slowly distanced her to a hand's distance as a precaution, bringing both his hands and wrapping them around her body, including grasping her arms along her body.

Visana lay in his embrace, her chest heaving as the warmth of the potion surged through her body, healing her.

She felt her strength returning, the numbness in her limbs fading, yet her soul felt dirtier than ever.

The haunting mix of emotions swirled within her—revulsion, bitterness, confusion, and a flicker of life—leaving her in a tumultuous state. Yet, this turmoil was short-lived. It was soon eclipsed by an overwhelming surge of anger that clouded her thoughts.

As she felt her body gradually returning to its normal state—no, it felt as if she were returning to her former self from nine years ago—her instincts kicked in.

She clenched her hands into fierce claws, her long nails resembling the talons of a predator. Driven by a primal urge, she aimed to rend his flesh and rip out his heart.

SWISH

A chilling tone accompanied her claw as it shot through the air towards his chest. "Damien! Watch as your heart is ripped out, beating one last time... then everything goes black!!"

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