入室强性暴

Bang! Bang! Bang! Lumian stormed in, raining a barrage of fists, elbows, knees, and feet upon the intruder.

The man was taken aback, yet not feeble. His resistance was robust, fending off blows with forearms while retreating. His chest, calves, and thighs bore the brunt of Lumian’s missed strikes, but he held his ground.

With a shake of his head, his brown eyes morphed into a haunting green, casting an eerie reflection of Lumian.

Suddenly, Lumian was overwhelmed by a powerful surge of desire. Beside him, “Showy Diva” Jenna radiated a captivating allure as she strained to watch the struggle, her whole being pulsating with magnetism.

This desire exploded within Lumian like a live grenade. He ceased his assault, eyes smoldering with a reddish hue as his breaths quickened. Whirling around, he lunged towards Jenna.

Jenna sensed the abnormality and bellowed out, her voice a mix of anger and fear, “Pull yourself f*cking together!”

But her words were smothered as Lumian pinned her down.

In tandem with this action, a hard object pressed against Lumian’s right side.

What was that? Reacting instinctively, his hand grazed the hilt of the ritual silver dagger he’d strategically placed for self-injury.

A vague understanding of his intent to use it flickered back into his mind.

In the next heartbeat, Lumian—now mostly irrational from his burgeoning desire—seized the handle of the silver dagger and drove it into his own flesh.

The silver tip sliced through cloth, skin, and muscle alike.

Excruciating pain thundered into Lumian’s consciousness, restoring some rationality from the grips of his wild desire, allowing him to regain some lucidity.

Pretending nothing had changed, he continued his actions on Jenna, his hands wandering aimlessly.

“Are you f*cking useless? Can’t even handle a pervert!” Jenna scolded, hoping to jolt her lone protector back to reality.

Seeing his opponent under control, the man hastily retrieved his own concealed dagger, preparing to strike Lumian from behind.

Just then, Lumian’s hands slid and he steadied himself against the cool cave floor beside Jenna.

With a swift motion, he flexed his waist and kicked his right foot backward.

Whack!

Lumian struck, his attack to the man’s groin swift and precise, akin to a whip’s snap.

A guttural crunch echoed, the man’s visage draining of color as pain contorted his features.

Clatter! His weapon slipped from his grasp.

Not one to squander an advantage, Lumian lunged, ensnaring his prey in a swift embrace.

His right arm snaked up, seizing the man’s head and wrenching it with an unyielding force.

Crack!

The man was granted a view of his own back, his focus mercifully diverted from the torment below.

Once his adversary’s life was unequivocally extinguished, Lumian withdrew his arms and produced his ritual silver dagger. With a white bandage he had in his possession, he attended to his own wound.

He held no fear of infection—even if such an eventuality arose, his Provoker constitution would endure until the 6 a.m. of the next day.

The primary purpose of his first-aid efforts was to prevent the cave from retaining traces of blood.

Jenna, sprawled on the cold ground, mustered the strength to hoist herself up. She observed as Lumian retracted his deadly grip and the man crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

Just like that? A shiver of shock rippled through her, effectively quelling her previously stoked desires.

She was no naive observer. She had gauged the formidable, almost magical aura of that lecherous man, but he was annihilated in mere seconds by this handsome rural lad!

Barely a heartbeat—eight or nine seconds at most—had transpired before a life was extinguished.

Upon tending to his injury, Lumian collected the man’s outer garments and moved towards Jenna. She blinked out of her stupor and queried curiously, “Why are you here?”

Almost reflexively, she added jokingly, “Don’t say you’re enamored by me and have been trailing me?”

Lumian’s response was a soft chuckle as he squatted down, drawing Jenna’s hands behind her back.

“What are you doing?” Jenna’s voice teetered on panic.

Despite her feeble struggles, Lumian effortlessly secured her wrists using the man’s shirt.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled a dark jacket over Jenna’s head, blocking her sight completely.

“Dogsh*t, bastard, pervert, what do you want?” Jenna’s words tumbled out, a jumble of anger, anxiety, and confusion.

Lumian dismissed her outburst. Ripping off the remaining piece of his shirt, he wadded it up and thrust it into Jenna’s ears and mouth.

“Mmmmm…” Jenna was silenced.

A resignation washed over her as she thought, Fine, I’ll endure this like a dog bite. As long as he doesn’t kill me…

Yet, her apprehension was met with stillness. Lumian had risen, leaving her side to approach the lifeless form on the cave floor.

Upon purifying his ritual silver dagger and wiping it clean, Lumian circumnavigated the petite cave, weaving a wall of spirituality.

Next, he commenced the Summoning Dance.

His intention was to invoke a spirit via this rite!

Despite this method’s efficacy falling notably short compared to traditional psychic spells, the goal of the Summoning Dance wasn’t strictly spirit invocation. Nevertheless, it was far better than the alternative—doing nothing.

His spirituality melded with natural forces and diffused in every direction, but was confined within the wall of spirituality enveloping the cave.

Thus, the summoning wouldn’t attract any unwanted entities.

In the midst of the chaotic, mesmerizing dance, Lumian perceived the spectral form of the man.

Drawing the ritual silver dagger, he let a droplet of blood fall, commanding the spirit to bond with him.

Almost instantaneously, Lumian was gripped by a chilling sensation as an unusual and fervent heat ignited within him. This was accompanied by an overwhelming desire for women.

Is this an actual side-effect? Does it parallel the insatiable hunger experienced with the mouth-orifice monster? Lumian made a conscious effort to avoid glancing at Jenna, who was now bound and blindfolded, as he noted his newly acquired “head.”

Since the man had recently perished, his other “head” was saturated with lingering emotions such as lust, pain, fury, loathing, and the instinctive urge to utilize his distinctive traits. Also present were traces of obsessions and the most profound memories.

Analyzing the situation, Lumian understood that this pervert possessed far more abilities and traits than the mouth-orifice monster.

“Inciting avarice in others;

“Becoming miserly and greedy, able to detect items that once belonged to him;

“Stimulating others’ appetites;

“Maintaining a robust and healthy physical state;

“Existing in perpetual hunger and thirst;

“Constantly utilizing mental faculties to augment strength, reflexes, agility, and resilience;

“Employing one’s gaze, speech, and actions to subtly induce a measure of lust in the target.

“Through direct contact and spell-like abilities, the target will experience varying degrees of lust.

“Preparing rape drugs and the like.

“Differentiating hormonal information of various individuals…”

Did Monsieur Ive utilize the first one? This pervert is indeed connected to Monsieur Ive and Susanna Mattise… A constant state of hunger and thirst. No wonder he targeted Jenna and dared to abduct her. Can this be categorized as a negative effect? Indeed, Jenna may not be his first victim… Lumian didn’t select any specific trait. He was limited to general observations of the spectral companion and was unable to comprehend any of the more nuanced abilities.

Lumian made an attempt to amplify the man’s most profound memories.

Suddenly, he was in the midst of a bustling theater. On stage stood a young woman clad in a divine white dress, her deeply carved features accented by lake-like eyes, crystal clear and rippling with innocence and charm.

Charlotte Calvino… Lumian identified the woman instantly. She was the reigning star of the Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons.

Simultaneously, Lumian felt the man’s excitement, the predatory hunger within him intensifying.

However, with the crowd around, he refrained from any untoward behavior. He bolted to the lavatory as soon as the scene concluded.

As the memory faded, Lumian ceased the Summoning Dance, letting the man’s spirit withdraw from his being.

Almost immediately, he performed the Summoning Dance again, inviting the spirit to rejoin him.

This was because each possession allowed Lumian to select only one trait, one memory, or one obsession. Once chosen, it was irrevocable.

Lumian had opted for one of the spirit’s most poignant memories.

In the next instant, Jenna appeared before him, giving an overtly dramatic performance on-stage.

“…” The situation became clear to Lumian. He couldn’t resist clenching his jaw and cursing, “Is there nothing else in your mind but women, women, women!”

He abandoned the idea of spirit channeling, regretting that he hadn’t yet achieved the status of a Contractee, unable to forge a long-term contract with the spirit and borrow a skill. Lumian appraised the man’s traits, certain that some of them would prove immensely useful in combat.

If only I could rear this spirit… Lumian sighed, conceding his present limitations.

Subsequently, he dissolved the spiritual barrier, sheathed his ritual silver dagger, and returned to Jenna. He removed the jacket shrouding her eyes and the shirt binding her hands.

Jenna winced, plucking the cloth from her mouth and ears.

She massaged her reddened wrist, throwing a skeptical look at Lumian who was busy searching the pockets of the man’s clothing. She inquired, “Why did you blindfold me and block my ears earlier?”

“I was protecting you. You shouldn’t see or hear what isn’t meant for you,” Lumian responded in a half-jesting tone, his search yielding a total of 8 verl d’or coins and three somewhat antiquated metal canisters.

Perceiving no threat from him, Jenna huffed. “What could possibly be unseen or unheard here? Unless you… you didn’t… with the corpse…”

Her voice faded as she connected a few dots, roughly guessing that Lumian might have been using some power to extract information from the corpse.

Upon noticing Lumian evaluating the three metal canisters, Jenna deflected the topic and reminisced, “One of these bottles contains a gas that knocks you out, leaving you feeble. That’s how he abducted me.

“Also, another bottle has this gas, extremely foul-smelling but strangely enough, it wakes you up. Damn, that pervert deserves being f*cked by a donkey!

“I don’t know what’s in the remaining bottle, and I can’t distinguish between the other two.”