Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son-Chapter 325: Deal With The Vampire.

Shirt stripped away, soaked, curled up on the cold floor.

Epione.

I removed my blazer as I stepped forward.

But a girl blocked my path.

Her crimson eyes locked onto mine, daring me.

I exhaled sharply, forcing down the rage bubbling beneath my skin.

My blood boiled.

My mind was already calculating how to kill them.

How to make them disappear.

"Move."

I said, my voice barely containing my anger.

The girl tilted her head, silver hair cascading to one side. "And if I don’t?"

Epione stirred, her gaze meeting mine for a fleeting second before she curled up tighter, as if trying to disappear.

"I won’t say it another time." I snarled, glaring at the girl blocking my path. "Move."

She leaned in slightly. "Or what? What are you going to do—"

A blade of condensed mana formed in my hand.

I slashed.

Not deep enough to kill.

Just enough to draw blood.

"Ahhhh!"

She stumbled back, clutching her throat, panic flickering in her eyes as crimson seeped through her fingers.

Good.

Without another word, I stepped past her, kneeling beside Epione.

I draped my blazer over her.

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She flinched at the contact.

I bit down on my lip hard enough to draw blood.

[<Don’t kill them.>]

’I am trying!’

"You’ve lost your mind!"

One of the girls barked, eyes alight with fury.

"Do you even know who she is?"

"Princess of Asura Highbloods." I cut into her words, standing back up. "Sibry."

Sibry’s wound had already begun to close, her crimson eyes seething.

She had already regained herself.

"Then why did you attack her!?" Another girl asked, astonished.

"I asked her to move." I said, tilting my head.

Sibry walked forward, standing in front of me. "Does being an heir cloud your mind, lesser?"

"Has being a Princess clouded yours?" I shot back, gaze boring into hers.

"I could kill you where you stand, yet you’re still trying to intimidate me?"

A mana blade condensed once again, making her flinch.

Another blade of mana flickered into existence at my fingertips.

She flinched.

The first girl yanked her back. "This isn’t worth it, Sibry."

"That girl deserved it—"

"I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuse for bullying her," I snapped, taking another step forward.

My patience had already reached its limit.

Sibry clenched her jaw, her lips parting to speak.

"I’ll make sure my brother hears of this."

She turned on her heel.

"Wait."

She froze.

"Return her shirt."

She glanced back over her shoulder, an amused smirk threatening to form.

"Oh, that? I burned it."

"Then strip."

Too bad, I wasn’t going to go easy on her.

She stood dumbfounded. "What?"

I raised my hand towards her. "Give her your shirt."

Her face flushed in anger and embarrassment.

Her lackeys exchanged uneasy glances, already taking a step back.

"Do you have any idea who I am—"

"Are you taking it off yourself or should I do it for you?" I asked, my voice freezing her in place.

A small hand grasped my sleeve.

"Leave it," Epione murmured, gaze lowered. "I have a spare."

I looked down at her, then back at Sibry.

She was glaring at Epione, but when my eyes met hers, she flinched.

"You’ll regret this," she spat before storming out.

"I will be waiting outside."

Without looking at Epione, I whispered.

Walking out, I closed the door before leaning against the wall.

"Tweet!"

The little blue bird quickly sat on my head.

I sighed.

Sometimes it’s hard to control my bloodlust.

That was close.

Too close.

I almost killed a princess.

And if she was talking about her brother…

Lysander.

’....’

’How come I haven’t met him till now?’

Knowing him, he should have been at my throat on the very first day.

After all, I did come between his obsession with the Segyal Highbloods.

Is he working behind the scenes?

Most likely.

The wary glances from the halves… Yeah.

He’s doing something.

I rubbed my temples in frustration.

Another problem to deal with.

The door clicked open.

Epione stepped out, now dressed in a fresh shirt.

Her silver hair, tinged with blue undertones, clung to her face, pristine white horns framing her head.

"One of the strongest girls in the second-year class and getting bullied?" I asked, glaring at her.

"Are you fucking stupid?"

She stiffened.

"You could have crushed them," I said, voice sharp. "Yet you didn’t even try."

"You don’t understand," she muttered.

"Then explain it to me."

She hesitated. "She’s my sister—"

"Half-sister," I corrected. "And that doesn’t make it right."

"If I fight back, it’ll only get worse," she said quietly, crimson eyes searching mine.

"I won’t let—"

"Look," she interrupted, voice firm. "I appreciate your help, but don’t ever do that again."

Her gaze was unwavering.

"You’re a stranger. Act like one."

"...."

My voice died down.

She bowed slightly, then walked away, Liraz trailing behind her.

[<She’s right, you know. You’re acting like you’ve always known her.>]

’…Yeah.’

I am being overprotective.

The memories of her ending in the game flashed past my eyes.

I sighed.

I don’t want her to die.

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"Fifteen minutes, Himmel!"

Siersha slammed her fist against the table, crimson eyes glaring daggers at me.

"I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes."

I sighed. "And I already apologized for being late."

She didn’t budge, her piercing gaze still boring into me.

The small mole under her lips was as alluring as ever, but I quickly averted my gaze.

Four empty coffee cups sat neatly arranged on the table.

She had really been waiting for a while.

"So..." I began, glancing back at her. "How come you asked me to meet?"

"What? I can’t even do that?" She asked, tilting her head. "I am your fiancée, remember?"

"That doesn’t change anything," I replied, leaning back in my chair. "It’s just in name."

She fell silent.

A familiar ache pulsed through my left hand.

My body craved the life energy she provided, but I pushed down the hunger.

"Why did you call me?" I asked again.

Siersha took a slow sip of her coffee before answering.

"For the past two weeks, I’ve been thinking about you."

She paused.

Then—

"Not in that way!" She yelled.

"Sure." I replied, a weird feeling bubbling in my heart.

"Anyway," she continued, shaking off her embarrassment, "you know how weird our relationship is, right?"

"I’m well aware," I said, nodding slightly.

"It’s biased." Her voice was calm again, composed. "Only you benefit from it. I’m always left with nothing."

I nodded curtly.

She wasn’t wrong.

I’d been leeching off her life energy without giving anything in return.

"We can’t go on like this." She said, her voice barely audible.

I gave her a nod as I closed my eyes.

Well, there goes my free life energy supply.

I can’t say I am not disappointed.

But.

It was too good to be true.

I let out a tired sigh.

Maybe I should start finding other ways to gain life energy.

Ranking up to Overlord is the fastest way to gain some.

’But I can’t be too sure.’

My bloodline will be a problem.

"Do you want to continue our relationship?"

Much to my surprise and... relief, Siersha’s voice echoed in my ears.

I opened my eyes.

My mind wanted me to say no, but my body said otherwise.

I struggled to give an answer.

I couldn’t pinpoint it, but...

...Depending on her didn’t seem right.

It felt like I was walking into a trap.

I sighed.

"I do."

And I answered what my body needed.

"Then we need to make it an equal exchange." She tapped her fingers against the table.

I frowned. "And how do we do that?"

"Whenever I bite you, I’ve never once taken your blood." Her crimson eyes glowed faintly.

Ah.

Of course.

She was a vampire, after all.

"We exchange now," she said, leaning back.

"I drink your blood, and you get my life energy."

*******

"Hey! Waiter, come here!"

A loud mocking voice echoed within the coffee house.

A group of students sat at a table arranged by the window.

"Are you fucking deaf?"

A young man sneered, his voice deep as he looked at the waiter.

The waiter turned around, his black hair tied loosely, golden eyes boring into them.

"What are you looking at, fucker?"

With his blackish-brown long hair and large body, he reminded one of a Minotaur.

He was the eldest son of the Von Castia branch family—Dexter Hadid.

Aimar sighed, walking towards them.

It wasn’t the first time they came for him.

No.

At this point, it was a daily occurrence.

"Fucking loser."

This time, another boy barked, a brutish yet handsome man—Zoki Hadid.

The Hadid family was one of the well-known families in Akasha.

They had many of their family members married within the main family, giving them an advantage over other families.

A clear backing of Von Castia.

"What do you want?" Aimar asked, standing beside them.

"Is that how you talk to a customer!?" Zoki barked, grabbing his notepad and throwing it away.

Aimar looked at the notepad, then at Zoki.

An urge to punch him flickered in his mind, which he quickly suppressed.

"What?" Dexter asked, leaning on the chair. "Wanna fight?"

Aimar shook his head.

Zoki stood up from his seat.

His hand reached out to grab his hair. "I don’t like your hair, fucker."

He made Aimar lean forward.

Grinning, he continued. "Should I burn it?"

Aimar met his gaze without flinching.

"Why?" A girl sitting with them chimed in. "He kinda looks cute with long hair."

"Shut up, Frost," Dexter snarled, looking at her. "He looks like shit compared to Sir Vlad."

"...Yeah." The girl replied meekly.

"Let’s see." Zoki mumbled, his hand twisting Aimar’s hair. "Clean shaved will look good on you."

"Hello!"

A loud voice echoed within the place, stopping them.

"Yes, Professor Wilhelm." Elijah said loudly while placing his phone to his ear.

"Yes, the coffee house is empty. Please come quickly."

Annoyance crept onto Zoki’s face as he let go of Aimar’s hair.

"Next time we meet," he spat venomously, looking at him, "I want you shaved."

Without another word, he walked out of the coffee house with Dexter.

The others followed behind them.

Aimar let out a sigh.

Picking up his notepad, he walked towards Elijah.

"Thanks, man," he said, looking at Elijah.

"Are you hiding all this from Himmel?" Elijah asked, concern etched on his face. "Just tell him—"

"You promised not to reveal anything to him, Elijah," Aimar cut in. "Please keep that promise."

Elijah sighed. "He will know one day."

"Let him live in peace till then," he replied, letting out a sigh. "He’s already having a hard time."

Elijah nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I noticed. Was the addiction too strong?"

Aimar frowned. "What addiction?"

"Did you not notice?" Elijah asked, tilting his head. "He’s showing withdrawal symptoms."

"Since when?" Aimar asked, his frown deepening.

"Been half a month, I guess," Elijah replied, looking at him. "The way he eats too much, always annoyed and snapping every now and then. It’s obvious."

"Isn’t he always like that?" Aimar asked, tilting his head.

"...Yeah."

Elijah nodded.

"Anyway, I need some rest," Aimar said, patting his shoulder once. "Look after the shop."

"Sure."

Silently, he walked towards the kitchen.

The place was already empty, giving him relief.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out a cigarette before lighting it up.

Aimar inhaled the smoke deeply.

"You could have killed them easily."

A voice echoed within the kitchen.

"I don’t want to get in trouble." Aimar replied softly.

"Aren’t you strong now?" The voice asked, becoming even clearer.

It was a male voice.

A voice Aimar was always familiar with.

"Doesn’t mean I can kill anyone for small things."

Aimar replied, his gaze on the burning cigarette.

"Too bad." The voice replied. "Unlike you, I can do that."

Aimar sighed.

He turned to look at the direction where the voice was coming from.

A boy with the same look as him stood there.

But unlike his golden eyes, he had gray.

"Are you now?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah." ’He’ replied, looking at Aimar. "A lot stronger than you think."

Aimar turned silent.

"Say."

Aimar began, looking at ’him.’

"Are you really Oliver?"

The cigarette burned between his fingers.