I collapsed back onto the bed and looked at the white ceiling above me.
"Great," I muttered, the word feeling heavy on my tongue. "Half-demon. Terminally ill. Hated by everyone. And I've only been here for five hours."
The ceiling seemed to blur as I tried to wrap my head around the biology of this disaster. A Dragon and a Demon hybrid? It sounded cool on paper—like some kind of ultimate boss character—but the reality was a nightmare.
Now, I think I know the reason for this. The reason why this damn body was so weak, why it couldn't even lift a sword without trembling.
In every world-building knowledge I know, Dragons and Demons were primordial opposites. One was the apex of the physical and elemental world, the other was the embodiment of chaotic, abyssal energy.
Their blood shouldn't just be "mixing"; they must be actively trying to annihilate each other inside my veins.
So, Rio had neither the raw, physical destructive power of the Dragons nor the reality-bending magic of the Demons.
Instead, he had a front-row seat to a civil war happening at a cellular level. Every time he tried to use mana, it probably felt like swallowing broken glass.
The "Pervert Prince" archetype wasn't just a choice—it was a distraction. He stayed in the shadows and chased skirts because doing anything else literally hurt.
I let out a ragged breath. I had thought—hoped, really—that maybe like a normal MC, I'd have something hidden. Infinite mana? An unblockable "Evil Eye"? Mind control?
But looking at the origin of this body, those "cheats" felt like a distant dream.
The Demon and Dragon blood were both too prideful; neither wanted to let the other take control, leaving me with a body that was essentially a burnt-out husk of two warring gods.
I wasn't an SSS-class hero; I was a chemical reaction gone wrong.
My mind raced, trying to bridge the gap between the first novel's events and this bizarre sequel. The relationships were a mess, the power scale was broken, and I was sitting on a terminal countdown.
As I lay there, the adrenaline that had kept me upright in front of Elena finally evaporated.
A wave of bone-deep exhaustion hit me. My muscles felt like they were being crushed by lead, and the spots where Aries's fire had licked my skin began to throb with a dull, rhythmic ache.
The weight of the last five hours was too much. I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. My thoughts began to fray at the edges, dissolving into a dark, dreamless fog.
I didn't just fall asleep; I plummeted into a void. There were no dreams of my old life in Pakistan, no "System" notifications, and no voices—just a heavy, suffocating silence that felt like being buried in warm sand.
When my consciousness finally clawed its way back to the surface, it felt like I was pulling my limbs out of wet concrete. My eyelids were glued shut with sleep, and a dull, lingering ache pulsed behind my temples.
I groaned, rolling onto my side and weakly scratching at my eyes to brush away the fog of a long slumber. My hand felt heavy, my movements sluggish.
"How long have I... slept for?" I croaked.
I blinked several times, forcing my vision to focus on the large, ornate window across from the bed. The sun had long since set, leaving the world outside swallowed by the night.
A faint, silvery moonlight spilled into the room, casting long, jagged shadows across the polished marble floor. Through the glass, I could see a thin crescent moon hanging in the sky like a silver scythe.
"It is already dark?"
I sat up abruptly, or at least I tried to. My core muscles screamed in protest, and I ended up propped on my elbows, staring at the moon in a daze.
Suddenly, a wave of profound fatigue washed over me, heavier than before. It wasn't just the grogginess of sleep; it felt like my very life force was being drained through a straw.
"Why is my body suddenly feeling weaker than before?" I muttered, my limbs trembling. My skin felt clammy, and the air in the room seemed too thin to breathe. "I must still be half asleep. Let's just sleep for five more mint..."
I let myself completely fall back on the bed, my head sinking into the silk pillows with a resigned thud.
Haaahh~
Just as my eyes began to drift shut again, a sharp, violet light seared through my eyelids. I groaned, shielding my face with my arm. A translucent screen hovered just inches from my nose.
"What now...?"
Without reading a single word, I waved my hand through the light, trying to swat it away like a persistent mosquito. "I am sleepy. Come back later."
The screen flickered, vanished for a heartbeat, and then snapped back into existence—this time even closer, the light so bright it made my eyes water.
[— CRITICAL UPDATE: The 'Main Plot' is starting soon. —
—The Hero is coming to destroy the Aragon Family.—]
[Current Status: Critical. Your 'Demon-Dragon' resonance has dropped to 4% from 5%. If it hits 0%, your heart will stop.
Tip: The Hero of this sequel doesn't care about your 'Pervert' reputation. He only cares about the 'Demon' blood in your veins. Try to save your family from the Hero... or at least, try to make sure they don't kill you before he does. ]