Transmigrated into a reversed world-Chapter 255: Unless you want to be reduced to ashes

The silence persisted for a moment until someone suggested in a trembling voice.

“Let us inform her together... that way she won’t be able to kill any of us.” The man flinched under everyone’s feverish gaze.

“Excellent!”

“This could work!”

“We need to tell her right away!”

Exclamations of approval echoed through the room, and everyone looked at the man with gratitude shining in their eyes. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

The group’s top leader quickly reached out to the cracked-faced woman, gesturing for silence as he enlarged the hologram screen to show all their faces.

It rang twice beneath their pounding hearts before the call was answered.

“Speak.” A cold, harsh voice ordered sharply.

They gulped nervously as they glanced at the face through the hologram screen; the cracked-faced woman could see them just as well.

“H-Head... Cyra is alive.” A woman forced out, her fingers clenched tightly on the armrest as she braced herself for the woman’s response.

The room was deathly quiet for a moment, with everyone holding their breath as a loud crash sounded from the other end of the screen.

“What the hell did you mean by she’s alive?! A simple thing! Kill her! Why do I need you useless things when you can’t even get a simple job done?" Her yell made them flinch back into their seats.

Their hearts filled with grievance at her words—there was nothing simple about killing Cyra. That woman was unkillable. How the hell did she survive that air crash?! It exploded high in the sky! Just how?!

These thoughts plagued them, and they nearly fell into doubt, wondering if it had been another aircraft that exploded instead of Cyra’s. But recalling the signal they received when the bomb detonated, they could no longer deceive themselves.

“I’m coming to headquarters in a week. Make sure you gather every single detail about Cyra and Desire Island, even if you have to use a satellite to spy on her—I don’t care, make it happen!” The woman issued this command and hung up the call.

They all stared at the black screen, wide-eyed, stunned, and scared.

“She’s coming.” No one knew who said that, but they shivered collectively, their faces deathly pale, as if they were heading to the gallows to be hanged rather than welcoming the Head and founder of the Dark Organization.

“This can’t be happening!” A woman cried out and dashed out of the room, her mind set on finding a reason to justify her absence during the Head’s stay.

A wave of gloom swept through the room; everyone wished they were dreaming, but how could twenty people share the same nightmare at once?

....

Meanwhile, in the mansion, Cyra lay Kyle on the bed in the guest room and sat across from him, waiting for him to wake up.

Twenty minutes passed quickly, and Kyle’s lashes fluttered faintly, a sign that he was waking up.

He opened his eyes and gazed dazedly at the ceiling, feeling disoriented and wondering if this was the afterlife. His fingers reached his chest to check his wound when a familiar voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You’re awake.” Cyra’s words failed to clear the haze in his mind, instead adding to his confusion.

“Did you die too?” He asked aloud in a doubtful, hoarse tone, his face furrowed in obvious confusion. “But why are you dead? You’re supposed to be strong.”

Cyra smirked slightly at his words, knowing he wouldn’t admit she was strong if he had been sober. She only regretted not recording this moment to show him later.

“I’m dead, technically, but not actually dead,” Cyra replied seriously, playing along to see how he would respond.

“Huh? Dead but not dead... what’s that? Haa... I just want a peaceful afterlife without your annoying face. Can’t believe I’m stuck with my boss even here.” Kyle muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with frustration and clear displeasure.

Cyra flashed to the bed, ‘Oh~ this is how you thank me for saving you.” Her words carried a playful undertone as she poked his pale cheeks.

Something clicked in Kyle’s mind, and he shot to his feet, shock clearing the daze from his mind. “This interior... It’s definitely the Mansion’s. That means I’M ALIVE!” he screamed in disbelief, frantically feeling the gaping wound in his chest—only to find smooth, unbroken skin.

“I turned you to keep you alive, but... I’m not done with the whole process," Cyra explained, waiting to get his full attention before she continued in a serious tone.

Kyle froze at her words, a rush of turbulent emotions crashing over him. He sank back onto the bed, taking a deep breath to steady himself and process the shocking words leaving Cyra’s lips.

“Turned me into what?” Kyle asked weakly, his tone baffled as he stared at her. Cyra pulled a chair around to face him and sat down before answering.

“Into a vampire like me.” Cyra’s casual tone delayed his brain from reacting immediately. He nodded dazedly before his eyes widened in surprise, then turned to doubt.

“Will I drink blood and sleep during the day...? Is that what a vampire is?” Kyle listed what he had observed during his entire time working for her, and he frowned when he thought about drinking blood.

Cyra hummed in response, saying nothing more, giving him enough time to process his new reality.

Upon hearing her hum, his hands balled into fists on his thighs. He didn’t know whether to feel grateful for being alive or mournful that he could never be his old self again.

‘But what really changed, though, except my appetite and sleep? Basically, I’m still the same... same boring, exhausting job with a hands-off boss. The only difference is that now I have more power to chase my wish,’ he thought, realizing nothing had truly changed.

Time moved slowly, wisps of moonlight flickered through the window, illuminating the wooden floor, shyly creeping toward his feet, and pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Thank you for saving me...and the remaining process...?” Kyle’s tone asked in an unsure tone, wondering what else could remain, but a sharp throbbing pain came from his gums, and he frowned, rubbing the sides of his face.

Cyra noticed his discomfort and patiently explained, “They’re your fangs, and you need to feed from my blood before hunger clouds your mind. Come.” Her tone was firm as she leaned back in her seat and gazed calmly into his icy blue eyes.

Kyle’s heart skipped at her words, his eyes fixed on the curve of her pale neck, and his gums throbbed fiercely, with his fang protruding. He covered his mouth, his eyes flickering with fear from the intense hunger racing through his mind.

“Do you want me to force you?" Cyra’s question had a threatening tone as she looked at him with her calm, almost indifferent, grey eyes.

Kyle pulled his mouth away, gasping for air, then moved forward, knowing she never made empty threats. “Do I have to drink your blood?” he asked hopefully—but her next words made him stumble.

“Unless you want to be reduced to ashes under the sun, you can go ahead and leave this room... then your dreams of killing me would vanish into thin air... and I’ll have to find another excellent butler like you,” Cyra muttered to herself, frowning at the mere thought of replacing Kyle.

“I’ll drink!” Kyle shouted, summoning a burst of courage as he lunged toward her. Cyra had already brought her wrist closer, but her neck was too tempting, and he couldn’t help but sink his fang in and Cyra froze.