Bitten by a Woman Right After Transmigrating

Area 11 of the East Asian Revolutionary League, the disaster-stricken city of Tokyo.

Late at night, the streets after the rain.

The air had been washed clean, and the puddles on the ground reflected the colorful neon lights from afar.

Over a dozen surveillance cameras scattered throughout the alleys had been destroyed, their components shattered across the ground. A long LED display hanging above a convenience store flickered incessantly with a line of bright red text.

"Citizens are requested to return home as soon as possible and minimize outdoor activities."

Isis stood on her tiptoes, nimbly avoiding a puddle stained red with blood.

Behind her, the street looked as if it had been ravaged by a hurricane, with traces of destruction left everywhere.

Over a dozen mangled corpses lay strewn across the ground; judging by their clothing and equipment, they appeared to be soldiers.

"Cough, cough..."

The sudden sound of coughing made Isis, who was about to leave, stop in her tracks.

She looked back to see the only corpse in the corner wearing casual clothes suddenly sit up from the ground.

To Isis's senses, this body had been as dead as the dozen or so soldiers killed alongside it.

Yet, at this moment, it had come back to life.

"Cough, cough..."

Fang Cheng struggled to crawl up from the ground, leaning against the wall with one hand, his face full of confusion.

One second he had been sitting on his toilet at home playing a mobile game, and the next, he had swapped bodies and appeared on this strange street.

The scene before him left him dumbfounded. Had he accidentally wandered into a battlefield the moment he transmigrated?

Or perhaps a film set?

There was a faint number "4" in his field of vision, so subtle it was hard to notice if one wasn't paying attention.

Fang Cheng lowered his head to rub his eyes, then looked up again to survey his surroundings.

The street was deathly silent and ruined, littered with corpses, and a woman with golden hair and red eyes stood a few dozen meters away.

The woman looked to be about twenty years old. Her eyes were like rubies, her nose delicate, her lips like cherries, and her features were flawless. Her figure possessed the perfect golden ratio, and a cascade of golden hair fell to her waist, emitting a faint glow in the night.

She wore only a pure white dress, giving the impression of a goddess descended from the heavens.

Noble, beautiful, and untouchable.

Fang Cheng instinctively reached for his phone.

She was so beautiful that he had to take a photo and post it to his social media.

He wanted to show those female colleagues who photoshopped themselves until their own mothers wouldn't recognize them what "natural beauty" and "spellcasting materials" really looked like.

But he immediately realized he had transmigrated and would never see those troublesome people again.

Besides, he didn't feel his phone; he only felt a viscous liquid.

Fang Cheng looked down and saw his hands were covered in blood, staining his white T-shirt a deep red.

What was going on? Was he already broken the moment he arrived?

"You're not right!"

A charming voice suddenly rang in his ears.

The golden-haired woman from dozens of meters away had arrived at Fang Cheng's side in an instant.

Fang Cheng instinctively tried to dodge, but his body suddenly stiffened, and he couldn't even move his fingers.

"You should be dead. How are you still alive?"

The language Isis spoke was pure English, which Fang Cheng could understand with his rudimentary, broken English.

He was unable to move his entire body, with only his mouth still capable of speech.

"I... I don't know what you mean."

What else could he say? That he had died and been resurrected because he transmigrated?

Isis's fingers brushed lightly across Fang Cheng's cheek and dropped down to his chest, but she felt nothing.

She remembered clearly that this kid was just an unlucky passerby who had wandered into the battlefield and died the moment he appeared after being struck in the chest by a stray bullet. Why had the bullet hole disappeared?

Isis held up two fingers and easily pierced into Fang Cheng's chest, searching within his thoracic cavity.

Fang Cheng opened his mouth to scream, but not even a sound could escape.

Soon, Isis retrieved a bullet from Fang Cheng's chest, proving that what she had seen was not a hallucination.

She smiled, and just as she was about to say something, she suddenly looked up at the night sky in the distance.

In the pitch-black sky, something seemed to be moving.

Isis showed a hint of impatience, took a step forward, placed a hand on Fang Cheng's shoulder, and leaned her face close to his ear.

"Little brother, big sister is going to give you a surprise."

The moment the words left her lips, she opened her mouth and bit into Fang Cheng's neck. Two slender fangs pierced his artery, and warm, fresh blood surged out, only to be swallowed by her.

Fang Cheng felt like an innocent little pond, and this woman was a high-powered suction pump.

He wanted to fight back, but his body was shackled by an invisible force, leaving him unable to move a muscle.

As his blood drained away, his strength vanished at a rapid pace.

Damn it, am I going to die right after transmigrating?

Doesn't that mean my transmigration was all for nothing?

This was the only thought left in Fang Cheng's mind as his vision went black and his consciousness began to fray.

Isis let go, and Fang Cheng collapsed like a pile of mud. He stared blankly at the night sky, his mouth slightly agape, gasping desperately for fresh air.

Isis licked the residual blood from the corner of her mouth, her expression one of disappointment: "Ordinary taste. Mediocre goods."

Half-conscious, Fang Cheng heard the blonde woman's assessment, and a surge of fury ignited in his heart.

You, you get a free meal and you still have the nerve to complain?

Isis crouched beside Fang Cheng, her ruby-like eyes fixed on the changes in his body, waiting to see if he could recover.

As if some sort of shackle had been undone, Fang Cheng's body finally regained the ability to move.

His gaze locked onto the blonde woman, and using the last of his strength, he slowly raised his hand and reached toward her chest.

Seeing his move, Isis didn't get angry; instead, she beamed.

"What a little pervert. You're about to die, and you still want to touch big sister?"

She didn't dodge, her eyes filled with playful mockery as she let his hand approach.

Just as Fang Cheng's hand was about to touch Isis's chest, it suddenly accelerated, thrusting upward with a violent jab—two fingers plunged straight into her nostrils.

Isis: (⊙⊙)

She had lived for who knows how many years and had seen countless men who wanted to do all sorts of things to her.

But she had never seen anyone poke her in the nose.

It was so unexpected that she hadn't managed to dodge in time.

Isis suddenly appeared on the other side of Fang Cheng, her finger already pressed against his heart.

She looked down at him and smiled: "Little brother, do you know what you're doing?"

Fang Cheng also offered a weak smile: "Go to hell!"

"..."

Isis's smile vanished. She pressed her finger down lightly, and Fang Cheng's heart instantly shattered into pieces.

The light in his eyes faded rapidly, his breath ceased, and he was dead as dead could be.

After killing Fang Cheng, Isis didn't leave immediately. She observed him carefully for a while, confirming there were no signs of resurrection—he was truly, thoroughly dead.

She stood up, feeling a bit bored, and with her hands behind her back, she walked away with light steps, disappearing into the deep night.

The dark street returned to a deathly silence.

About ten minutes later, Fang Cheng, who had been lying there like a corpse, suddenly sat up, clutching his chest and gasping for air like a drowning man who had finally reached the surface.

He panted, scanning his surroundings, and found that Isis was long gone.

"...I didn't die?"

Fang Cheng looked down at his blood-soaked body, bewildered, as the wound on his chest healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.

He tried to stand up, but let out a muffled groan and sat back down as a throbbing pain erupted in his head.

A massive influx of unfamiliar memories flashed through his mind like a frantic, high-speed video, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

After a long while, he finally absorbed the memories belonging to the original owner. Fang Cheng leaned against the wall and stood up, feeling weak and drained, as if he had just suffered a massive energy crash; he could barely walk.

After orienting himself, he slowly left the area.

High above the street, a small drone flew by silently.

Following the memories in his mind, Fang Cheng returned to the body's home.

It was a cramped, tiny apartment.

By the time he arrived, the wound on his chest had healed, and his strength had gradually returned to a normal level.

He stripped off his blood-stained clothes, walked into the bathroom naked, and began to wash his body.

The cold water helped calm his feverish mind, and the chaotic memories finally began to settle.

He now understood what kind of world he had arrived in.

This world was similar to Earth, but it contained supernatural powers and all sorts of bizarre monsters, which had caused history to diverge.

Under the pressure of ideological clashes and an increasingly hostile survival environment, nations with shared cultural backgrounds had formed political alliances to deal with the crises.

Now, East Asia, Western Europe, and North America stood as a tripod, competing and cooperating with one another.

The political organization in East Asia is the Human Reform League, with Japan designated as Area 11.

This body belongs to an ordinary high school student attending school in Area 11.

Following the usual tropes, he shares the name Fang Cheng, his parents died early, he has no sister, owns a house, and lives all by himself.

The original owner spent the entire day hiding at home playing games, then slipped out at night to find food, never expecting to stumble into a battlefield where government armed forces were hunting a monster, only to be sent to meet his maker by a stray bullet.

According to this world's definition of supernatural species, that blonde woman must be a vampire, an extremely dangerous creature.

Fang Cheng couldn't help but observe three seconds of silence for the original owner; it was his first time being bitten by a woman in this life, yet he didn't even get to see her before he died.

Silence concluded, Fang Cheng walked over to the mirror.

In the mirror was a thin youth with long hair; he pushed back the hair that covered his ears and eyes, revealing a handsome, well-defined face, pale skin, and two dark circles under his eyes from staying up late.

Not bad, about one-tenth as handsome as I was before transmigrating, otherwise I wouldn't be able to immerse myself.

Fang Cheng tilted his head back and touched his neck.

The two bloody holes bitten by the female vampire earlier had already healed.

Yet, that heart-palpitating sensation of blood draining away still lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.

When leeches suck human blood, they secrete an anesthetic to reduce the pain caused by the bite.

This vampire was even worse than a leech.

However, his body had actually returned from the dead and healed its wounds; could it be that he had already turned into a vampire?

Fang Cheng recalled the other party saying she wanted to give him a surprise; could this be it?

That really is quite a surprise. If he ever runs into her again, Fang Cheng would be willing to offer her a multi-billion dollar business deal to properly repay this "surprise."

"Hmm?"

Fang Cheng noticed a faint number "3" in his field of vision. He leaned closer to the mirror to check and discovered that a "3" was indeed reflected in his left pupil.

"What the hell is this?"

Fang Cheng felt a slight jolt of alarm. When he first transmigrated, this number was a 4; now it had changed to a 3?

And during this interval, he had been killed by that female vampire once and then resurrected.

Could this number represent his remaining resurrections?

Just as Fang Cheng was deep in thought, his ears twitched, catching a faint sound coming from outside the bathroom.