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“Ugh…”
Se-Hoon felt an aching pain in his solar plexus. It was as if his blood vessels were being stabbed by spikes mixed into his bloodstream, forcing him to wince involuntarily.
She said it would only hurt a little… I shouldn’t have trusted her.
He had already lost consciousness several times so far and was unable to clearly recall what he had done just a few minutes ago.
Wincing again, Se-Hoon swallowed the vomit that was about to come out and rubbed his solar plexus.
“You're such a wimp,” said someone languidly from the side.
The office was dark, due to all the lights being off, so all he could faintly see were things like the table and the cabinet which were illuminated by the moonlight glimmering through the window. As such, he could only make out the outline of the owner of the voice, his master.
“To think you’re fainting from just activating the Demonic Blood Art and not even pulling out the Soul Weapon. Tsk tsk…” said his master while wiggling her toes. She was fully leaned back in her chair with her feet propped up on the desk.
No wonder she has no one around her, grumbled Se-Hoon inwardly, squinting his eyes to see his master who was busy clicking her tongue instead of worrying about her hurting disciple.
What was the point of having good skills if she could never get recognition for them due to her personality, which left her forever despised by others?
Continuing to grumble inwardly, he suddenly felt his master’s gaze on him from within the darkness.
“You seem to have a lot of complaints.”
“…No, ma’am.”
“You do remember you can quit anytime, right? I always tell you that you just have to leave behind everything I taught you.”
Se-Hoon looked at her in disbelief.
“Your words...
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