I became a beast that craved blood, intoxicated with power, causing havoc and destruction.
I killed everything I saw, everything that touched my senses, everything that annoyed my nerves.
Those who had flesh, those who had greed, and those who tried to use me, I killed them all.
Bloodline, Blood Master.
Those were the names the world called me.
Sometimes, my sanity would return, but only for a brief moment.
The thirst for blood quickly took over and robbed me of control over my body.
Unforgivable self-hatred engulfed me.
If I hadn’t craved power, none of this would have happened.
I just wanted to be stronger than others and better off than others.
The price I paid was a hand that never stopped shedding blood.
At some point, I no longer felt the thirst for blood.
Perhaps because I had achieved my goal of staining the world with blood.
When faced with incomprehensible situations, I began to question.
Once again, my consciousness began to fade.
The feeling of being controlled by madness was always the same.
The world was hazy, as if covered in fog, and a heavy pressure crushed my chest.
I struggled within it, unable to resist.
Another me, who had gone insane and seemed to laugh at me, ran out fearlessly and quenched his thirst for blood.
No matter how many times I resisted, what I got back was ridicule.
‘Blood’ was a monster created because I couldn’t control myself.
The only one who could erase this monster was me.
Every time I had an outburst, I was swallowed by it, but I didn’t give up and waited for an opportunity.
‘Blood’ was another me.
The abilities, experiences, and thoughts that ‘Blood’ had were both his and mine.
At some point, my blurred consciousness became clear, and my senses became sharper.
I no longer felt the madness of the monster that was tormenting my brain.
Did I overcome it, or was the monster trying to deceive me in a new way?
The reason why I released my guarded heart was because of the scent of the nostalgic smell that permeated my nostrils.
My mother’s bean paste stew.
The food that I thought I could never eat again.
I longed to taste it again, but I didn’t have the courage to go and see them because my family might suffer more because of me.
I had lived in regret for driving my family into a quagmire because of my obsession with blood.
I called him the “monster,” but ultimately everything was my fault.
In a situation where I could not die on my own, the best I could do was regain my freedom, repent, and cut off my own life.
Apart from that, being able to taste my mother’s food again was a great blessing to me.
Even if it’s just a dream or a deception from the monster, it didn’t matter.
I thanked God and reached out reflexively.
And I licked the content in my hand like the monster licked blood.
It was undoubtedly my mother’s bean paste stew.
It was delicious.
At the same time, a voice rang out.
As I listened to the sound, the surrounding scenery began to change.
In front of me were my parents’ faces.
Was this a dream?
I thought it wasn’t real because my parents’ faces were too young, even though they were already old.
I thought I would keep that appearance of my parents forever in my mind.
But all I could do after causing them pain several times and losing my body to that monster was to watch them from a distance once in a while.
Every time I saw them, they were getting older.
I cried tears of blood as I watched them get weaker day by day.
It’s okay to call it a dream.
I was grateful to be able to see this scenery again.
However, what my senses perceived was a vivid reality.
I couldn’t distinguish between reality and dream and looked bewildered.
My parents were looking at me with a disappointed expression.
Why are you eating soybean paste stew with your hands?”
“With my hands?”
I reflexively lowered my head, my hands were covered in soybean paste soup and bits of tofu, potatoes, and zucchini.
I thought it was a dream.
But what about this sense of reality?
I scooped up some more soybean paste stew with my hands and put it in my mouth again.
I could taste it.
The savory taste of soybean paste, the softness of tofu, the taste of potatoes and zucchini.
This dream could not be so vivid.
Not the deception of that guy.
I have returned to the past before I made mistakes.
“Oh, Jun-ho! Why are you eating food with your hands?”
Even with my mother’s astonished voice and my father’s gaze that looked at me like I was crazy, I laughed.
It tastes even better when you eat it with your hands.”
I scooped up another spoonful of soybean paste stew with my hand and ate it.
My mother’s food, which had a spoonful of longing added as seasoning, was truly delicious.
The world had not changed when I woke up the next day.
I wasn’t going crazy again, and I didn’t thirst for blood.
I really went back to the past?
I was grateful that I could face the sunlight with a clear mind.
The fact that I wasn’t going crazy made me happy to live in this world again.
I had slept deeply, almost forgetting when I was always being chased and threatened with my life.
He always whispered to me.
‘Give up the rebellion.
You and I are separated, but ultimately the same existence.’ It whispered to me to become one with him and become the only unique existence in the world.
I refused and wanted to get everything he had.
Every time, he came back with a sneer.
And with a triumphant expression, he stained my hands with the blood of countless people.
That’s how I became the worst villain in history.
In reality, I was a powerless 25-year-old unemployed person.
I got up from my seat, arranged the blanket, did some simple stretching, and went into the living room.
The sound of the chopping board cutting ingredients and the smell of boiling soybean paste stew in the kitchen matched perfectly.
I took a deep breath and welcomed the smell into my body.
The more I did that, the more my mother’s expression towards me became anxious.
“Did you sleep well? You woke up early.”
“Yes, can I help you with something?”
“No, it’s okay.
But are you really okay?”
“What do you mean?”
Maybe it was because I had tasted the soybean paste stew yesterday.
Even I thought I was crazy for doing it.
Was it insane for a person who was already labeled as crazy to engage in an act of craziness? I wouldn’t have been able to face ‘Blood’ normally otherwise if something wasn’t broken inside me.
His mockery and deceit would have been too much for me to endure.
Both he and I were broken.
So the top priority was to not show any signs of being broken.
How could I appear normal?
Should I catch a level 7 demon, even if it’s harmful? Then would my parents like me when they saw their son’s skills?
“Eat your meal.”
“Wash your hands.
Use the utensils to eat.”
Since yesterday, the eyes that looked at me were full of sympathy.
Maybe my actions were childish.
Even though they treated me like a child, it was still good to be back in the past.
My parents didn’t say anything special during the meal.
Even when I said I would clean up after the meal, they didn’t stop me and just went back to work after finishing their meal.
Alone, I sat in front of the computer and got lost in my thoughts.
Should I catch a level 7 demon, even if it’s harmful? But would they be too surprised because it’s too big? Was there a small one among the level 7 demons?
I thought about it but couldn’t come up with anything.
Focusing on the current situation, I had to abandon my plans due to circumstances beyond my control.
This time was when I was at the peak of my unemployment.
I was identified as an awakened person suitable for special abilities when I was a teenager.
From the age of 20, I challenged large companies and guilds for three years, but suffered defeat.
After that, I was dejected and spent two years holed up in my room, putting a nail into my parents’ hearts.
That was me, Choi Joon-ho, at the age of 25.
Although it may have appeared pathetic to others, my perspective as a killer with 25 years of experience was somewhat different.
I was innocent at this time.
I could have probably become excellent.
I didn’t kill just because I found someone irritating or was bored, and I didn’t even suck blood unnecessarily.
But did I suck my parents dry with this lifestyle?
But if it’s not real blood, so it should be okay, right? It’ll be okay.
Looking back on a distant past that had become a distant memory, many old memories came to mind.
At that time, it seemed like I didn’t have any thoughts.
I just blamed others.
I resented the world and my own incompetence, and it seemed to lead to a desire for power, using any means necessary to become stronger.
I thought that if I only gained power, wealth and authority would come to me.
The result of this naïve thinking was the birth of the worst villain – Blood Master.
Although I gained the desired power, it was not without cost.
My family suffered greatly as a result of my choices.
My parents, who suffered a lifetime of surveillance for raising a son who went astray.
A younger sister who couldn’t blossom her talent despite having it, because of the sin of having the wrong older brother.
There could be no more mistakes.
He wanted to become a son that my family could be proud of, not a villain crazy for blood.
Then what would a son a family should be proud of actually look like?
What came to mind at this moment was hunting a level-7 harmful demon.
I’ll ask later.
I lay on the bed waiting for my parents.
“What we want you want to become?”
Choi Jin-kyu and Lee Young-hee, who had just finished farming, blinked at their son’s question.
They still hadn’t adapted to their son’s changed appearance, just like yesterday.
At first, they thought he might be crazy, but they decided it was better than wasting time and resenting the world.
And now, he was starting to smile instead of having a stern expression.
“You’ve been worried all this time.
I’m trying to come to my senses and do things properly.”<
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