The Blood Slave Who Escaped

The Blood Slave Who Escaped

Dimit and Paul were dragged into the First Class Cabin in an almost pathetic state.

Visible fear appeared on their faces, yet, unexpectedly, they offered no resistance at all... Their faces were ashen, and their bodies were stiff.

--This was their first time entering the First Class Cabin.

Compared to the cabin where the dozen or so of them had shared a room amid all sorts of complicated stinks... the First Class Cabin was like a luxuriously decorated hotel. There was a soft, deep-red carpet, an expensive wooden desk that was highly susceptible to damp and rot at sea, and an entire row of books of every kind. There was also a luxurious sofa that could seat at least five people at once, along with a private bathroom and washroom. And this was only the outer room; the bedroom was farther inside.

The butler swept them with a cold gaze, then declared indifferently, "You'll stay here."

The butler then turned and walked toward the inner room.

After he had left, Dimit turned to Paul with a pleading look.

Lowering his voice, he whispered softly, "What do we do now...? Should we run?"

"Run?"

Paul glanced at him and replied in his usual voice--even a little louder than normal, "We can't get away."

"Keep your voice down--"

Dimit was startled and hurriedly pleaded with him.

But Paul continued speaking on his own: "She's at least a Fourth Level transcendent... Do you really think you can escape in front of an existence like that? Let me remind you, this ship is a sealed space--or are you planning to jump into the sea and feed the fish?"

"--Why do we have to run?"

Just then, a tender yet slightly hoarse voice rang out.

That hoarse voice was like