[Name:- Lucien Bloodborne]
So I am actually transmigrated. I suspected it, but this confirmed.My name was good old Mark… never something this badass.
The confirmation was still a bit disappointing.
Honestly, it would've been better if I was starting as a newborn like in those novels—naturally building relationships with my new family, making a cute green-haired elf a childhood friend, and all, instead of just inheriting it (if this bum has them in the first place).
Or, what if I received memories of this guy and completely lost my original self? There were just too many negatives from what I knew of transmigration.
I shook my head and reminded myself of my previous words.
[Race: ???]
[Title: XXX]
[Level: 1. XP 0/600]
[Primary Class: Slave]
[Echoes Binded: 0]
[Primordial Trials engaged: 0]
[Vitality: 4/80]
[Endurance: 2/20]
[Strength: 5/12]
[Agility: 1/10]
[Dexterity: 3/10]
[Intelligence: 15/20]
[Arcane: XXX]
[Charisma: 8/25]
[Useable stat points: 0]
[Skills: 1:Blood for Blood lvl 1]
[Description: Allows the user to restore all stats by drinking blood of other living creatures.]
[2. Eye of Sanguine lvl 1]
[Description: Gives thermal, night, binocular, and X-ray vision to the user, but could destroy normal retina networks if used for too long at this level, causing permanent blindness.]
[Passive: Infinite regeneration]
[Description: As long as the user wants to live, all injuries will eventually heal, with stats recovery, on their own, even without any blood, or food.]
"You do realize that question marks at the race part don't mean anything now, right?" I asked with narrowed eyes, only to be ignored again.
After that Blood for Blood skill, it was obvious what race I was. I had read too many novels to not be sure…
Well whatever, at least the poor thing is trying.
But more importantly… Why are my stats this ass?!
The dots weren't too hard to connect.
I am a slave. I was beaten, and injured to a critical condition. Then, I haven't been fed—at least not blood—or I would've healed.
…Truly, what an amazing start.
With a sigh, I tried to look again at the thick darkness. Expectedly, it was the same view. But, things are different now!
I closed my eyes. Now, how the hell do I activate [Eye of Sanguine] anyways?! The system didn't seem to have any intentions to tell me.
I should have muscle memories of the original body… Like, it should come with me inheriting this body. And, the hunger I felt for blood… It was perhaps instinctive, but still, the same thing. I should be able to use it on instinct than.
Eh, worth a try.
Just as my eyelids closed, and the thought of using [Eye of Sanguine] rose, my brain automatically seemed to register the intention. A electrical current vibrated through my spine, and a strange lightheadedness, like after smoking strange gas station shrooms took over my mind.
Without realising when, I started taking deep breaths.
Four seconds inhale. Four seconds hold. Four seconds exhale. Four seconds hold.
I kept repeating this for eight times. The blood tore through my viens and skin like a massive pressure washer was launching my blood from all parts of my body to my head. I felt a piercing pain, like something sharp and spikey was rubbing, and touching me from inside.
It felt warm, boiling warm, and I somehow knew a single misstep could result in my head exploding. But it wasn't that scary. Original me should be puking because of that weird sticky blood against every part of my body, traveling so itchingly fast.
It was like I had done it a thousand times before.
After a few seconds, My eyes dilated. Every part of my head started filling, like a sponge, absorbing all of my blood.
My eyes burned as I opened them. I felt warm blood crawling on my cheeks. My pupils, and the area that should be white glowed dark red.
I blinked a few times, letting all excess blood not absorbed by my pupils out. Finally, I was able to see.
It was red. Deep, dark red.
Like how in RPGs when the character goes in rage mode, or has low health.
As I started to comprehend the sight before me more and more, a deep chill ran down my spine.
A long dining table was placed right before me. But, the table's entire surface was… covered with four-foot long katana-like swords, but thicker. Each of them separated with just a single inch of gap, all covered in crimson liquid that edged the thirst in me. I could recognise that liquid from sight.
It was my blood.
With shaking pupils, I looked around to find any information. But there were only even more torture devices. The scene was omething straight out of a horror movie, everything was red, but those tools even redder, dripping with my blood.
A seven-foot tall standing coffin opened fully filled with more than a hundred foot-long sharp spikes, each of them covered with thick blood as if recently used to its full potential. This time, it wasn't mine. Was there someone else? Being tortured with me?
But, one thing was apparent.
I wasn't just a regular slave, but being tortured regularly. Even if my masters were sadistic, they wouldn't do this much damage if they wanted me to be useful. Or… They only had me here for the purpose of torturing me.
I was this invincible punching with my passive skill…
But most probably… Someone was intentionally trying to cause me as much pain as possible. There was hatred.
As I was thinking over the weirdness of it all, my face turned pale. I something even weird.
It was something that shouldn't be in a room like this.
A woman.
The most beautiful I had ever seen in both lives.
She had otherworldly snow white hair that reached to her lower body's perfect curve—some strands sticking to her forehead, and face due to sweat, and… blood. My tortured patner?
The tingling in my throat increased significantly staring at her face.