Bloodlust

Inside the captain’s cabin, which housed a considerable collection of books, the captain—his hair half-gray but his beard neatly trimmed—was planning the itinerary for the coming days. A large nautical chart lay spread out before him.

It was a very new map, appearing to have been drawn not long ago. Perhaps the fleet of some empire had been the first to complete a major geographical survey and subsequently published it.

“Captain, the damage from last night’s heavy rain has been repaired. We are currently taking inventory of the losses,” an experienced sailor reported. Though as men who made their living from the sea, they were well-versed in observing changes in maritime conditions and weather, last night’s storm had still caused significant damage.

Perhaps the intensity of the storm had exceeded their estimates, leaving them unprepared, or perhaps there was some other reason. None of this concerned Clo, for they would soon discover that the passenger count had permanently decreased by one.

“I hope the supplies on board are sufficient, at least enough to last until we reach the Royal Court.” The captain let out a long sigh and straightened his white suit. Only by appearing decent and composed could he stabilize the morale of the passengers, or at least prevent the lingering fear from last night from spreading among the crowd.

“Captain, the inventory of remaining goods has been listed. The stewardesses are currently counting the passengers.”

“Understood.” The captain carefully checked the remaining stores of fresh water, meat products, and vegetables. The levels were much more optimistic than he had expected; even with a few extra days at sea, there was enough to sustain them until they reached the Royal Court.

“Captain...” A man wearing a black uniform, whose role seemed more akin to a steward than a typical sailor, pushed the door open. A look of hesitation was written across his face.

“While tallying the headcount, we found one person missing from VIP Cabin 108.” The man seemed somewhat anxious. “A woman living in the same cabin reported that a man residing in 108 hasn't returned since he went out in the middle of the night.”

“What?!” The captain raised an eyebrow.

“At first, we thought he was just drunk and perhaps fell asleep somewhere on the ship, but we’ve searched the entire vessel and still haven't found a trace of him.” The man organized what he knew and relayed it to the captain. Faced with such a major incident, he didn't know how to handle it.

“Could he have drunkenly wandered onto the deck and accidentally fallen into the sea?” The captain thought it over. “Impossible... we clearly locked all the doors leading to the deck...”

“Ask the surrounding passengers first... try not to cause a panic... never mind, I’ll go myself.” The captain sighed and pushed open the door to the captain’s cabin.

...

“A Yue, why are you shaking?” Clo patted Li Yue’s body. Her face was buried in Clo’s chest, but her body was trembling incessantly as if she were suppressing something.

“A Yue?” Clo slowly sat up, wanting to check Li Yue’s condition more closely, only to be suddenly pinned to the floor by a pair of hands.

“That hurts, A Yue, you...” Clo froze. She saw a pair of blood-red eyes set against pitch-black sclera, filled with a violent aura. She could see the tears at the corners of Li Yue’s eyes and her sharp fangs. She seemed to be desperately suppressing the desires within her body.

“Mmh...” Li Yue let out a pained whimper. Those boundless desires had found her once again, and in her current state of extreme mental exhaustion, she was utterly powerless to resist. In this moment of madness, she could only rely on her last shred of reason to forcibly suppress her bloodlust.

“No wonder... they all say that blood demons are the creations of the God of Death...” Clo stroked Li Yue’s small face. She knew that the string holding Li Yue together was on the verge of snapping.

“It must have been so painful for you to endure all this time... No wonder you were always so cold; you were fighting these emotions the whole time...” Clo reached out and picked up a pair of scissors that had fallen nearby. She aimed them at the small area between her fair shoulder and neck, seemingly choosing a spot.

“This time, let this be my apology. It’s my fault... for not taking the initiative to understand... your pain.” Clo stabbed herself hard in the neck. Bright red blood immediately sprayed out. It was a scorching sensation; after the initial pain, Clo, who hadn't bled in a long time, felt only heat.

The blood flowed onto her skin. It was so hot... yet she felt so cold... warm blood was flowing out... mmh... it tickled.

Clo regained her focus and found Li Yue holding her body tightly, licking the blood from the wound. With every lick, Clo felt a ticklish sensation—not just because the wound was being licked, but because the damaged blood vessels and skin were mending.

“Tsk...” Li Yue’s mouth slowly pulled away from Clo’s neck. The wound had been restored to its original state, though the scent of blood still lingered in the air.

“Regained some of your sanity?” Clo touched her neck and slowly sat up.

“...............” Li Yue remained silent.

“Stupid.”

“Knock, knock, knock.” A tapping sound came from outside the door, interrupting the eerie, bloody, yet intimate atmosphere.