Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



On the other side of the door, Daenys clutched her heart, feeling it thumping harder and harder.

Her face was completely flushed, and her breathing was heavy.

She stood there frozen, unable to move.

"What the hell was that?" She too, couldn't shake him off her mind. The way his eyes captivated her body, it send shivers down her whole body.

"Get a grip, Daenys, he's your brother," she said to herself feeling complicated feelings bubbling up in her heart.

...

Damien slapped his face a couple of times and continued his walk. He thought he passed by someone but since his mind was occupied with his sister's body, he didn't see them at all.

But boy, did they leave him alone? No. That's not Daemon was designed at all.

"Wow, look at that, the prodigal son of the Zadkiel family has returned," Daemon clapped his hands with a malicious grin.

That's when Damien noticed the presence behind him. He turned around and saw this younger brother striding towards him.

"Look at you brother, you look like you got jacked. Is that truly you at all," he lightly tapped on Damien's chest to reassure the bulges were real at all.

Damien was a bit taller than him, so when they stood face to face, Daemon had to look up to see his eyes.

"You were a piece of shit back then but now..." he gestured grandly at him. "now you are a big chump of a piece of shit."

Blood boiled inside Damien, he could hear the pulsing of his nerve. The quickening of his heartbeat. His jaws clenched tightly.

If it was before he would've laughed it off and tried to get away from him but...those days are behind him.

He was trained. Trained under the golden heroes of that time and he wanted to test his power on something. And what better test dummy than the old bully at all?

"Daemon," he said, his voice was just a whisper. "You'll do well to respect my authority as your elder brother."

The maids and butlers passing through the corridor stood to a side and watched. They can't get past the other side as it would be considered disrespectful since both the young lords are blocking the way.

That was all bullshit, they just wanted some entertainment to reignite their boring life with something adrenaline pumping.

Daemon was silent for a moment then he broke into a burst of laughter.

He laughed and wiped a tear from his eyes all the while Damien stood there and watched him, without any change of expression.

"Ah, my ears must be clogging. I must've heard something else, right, brother?"

Damien regarded him for a moment and took a step forward, now they were just inches away.

He looked down at the purple eyes looking up at him, eyes glowing crimson.

"I said, you'll do well to respect me, brother," Damien's voice, barely above a whisper, carried an undercurrent of authority that resonated with an eerie intensity.

The maids and butlers, once mere spectators, could feel the electricity crackling between the two young lords. They stood frozen, transfixed by the magnetic pull of the confrontation, their hearts pounding with anticipation. Their mundane existence yearned for this injection of adrenaline, even if it was born from the turmoil between their masters.

Daemon's laughter wavered, and for a fleeting moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes. The air grew heavier, tension winding its tendrils around them.

Then the lightness returned to his features and he grinned again.

"Wow, such big words. Careful now I might gain a new name," he said. "The Kinslaye--"

~Slap~

The resounding slap cut through the tension-filled atmosphere like a crack of thunder, shattering the fragile equilibrium between the brothers. Time seemed to slow as Daemon's head snapped to the side, a spray of crimson blood gushing from his nose. The corridor fell into an eerie silence, as if the world itself held its breath, stunned by the sudden escalation.

Damien stood there, his hand still suspended in the air from the force of the slap. His expression remained unchanged, a stoic mask concealing the storm raging within him. He had unleashed the pent-up frustration, the years of torment, in that one powerful strike.

Daemon staggered backward, his malicious grin replaced by a mixture of shock and pain. His hand instinctively reached for his throbbing cheek, attempting to stem the flow of blood.

For a moment, his usually confident demeanor faltered, his eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability that had been absent until now.

The maids and butlers, momentarily petrified witnesses, gasped at the shocking turn of events. The once-reigning bully had been brought down by the hand of his elder brother.

Whispers of disbelief and awe rippled through the gathered crowd as they exchanged astonished glances

Then Daemon laughed. Laughed like a maniac. Throwing his head back and clutching his stomach.

For a second, Damien thought his brother was not going to react. Seeing his laughter and all but it changed suddenly.

"You dare! You dare slap me! You piece of shit! How dare you, bastard!" He roared as his laughing demeanor changed to that of a fury.

His voice was too loud that Daenys opened her door to check what was going on.

She saw the maids and butlers blocking the way like they were watching something entertaining. She steered through them and gasped seeing the standout.

Daemon was boiling. She could see the blood on the floor where he was standing.

On the other end, Damien was stoic, but the redness on his face betrayed his rage.

"What happened?" She asked a maid.

"Young master Damien slapped young master Daemon," the maid said timidly.

"Oh god!" Daenys covered her mouth in disbelief.

Their conversation was not loud but in the dead silence Daemon had heard them.

His eyes glowed, the purple color intensified.

And in the next moment, Daemon was dashing at his brother.

"Yes, so predictable," Damien laughed and cracked his neck, readying himself.

So it starts, brother v/s brother. A battle for respect and image.