The Beautiful Pariah is Being Pestered Again [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 1

Song Mo jolted awake from a dizzying haze, his eyes meeting the sight of a red velvet canopy overhead.

A cold, electronic voice echoed in his mind.

Welcome to the World of Quick Transmigration.

In this world, you play the role of a profligate fiancé forcibly taken by a Castle Duke essentially, a useless “vase” NPC.

Your mission: Help the players complete their objectives, and finally, exit this world by being killed by the Boss.

Wishing the host a successful journey.

Song Mo hopped off the bed, his bare feet sinking into the plush, dark red carpet. The soft, tickling sensation made him let out a small, breathless laugh.

It was real. He could actually walk.

The youth lifted his head, his clear face radiating pure excitement. Having been frail and sickly since childhood, he had spent the better part of his life confined to a hospital bed. He had finally managed to get into university, thinking he could finally enjoy a taste of youth, only for his condition to worsen right after registration. He died at eighteen.

Perhaps even the heavens found him pitiable and decided to give him a second chance.

The System told him that if he earned enough points, he could be resurrected—and he would be healthy. For Song Mo, the allure of that promise was overwhelming.

Song Mo stared at his flexible toes, wiggling them like someone with a bad case of fidgets. “What happens if I fail?” he asked the System.

System: “You will die, and your soul will dissipate forever within the minor world.”

Song Mo: “…”

He let out a dry “oh,” and his toes went limp and dejected.

System: “The host also possesses a talent skill—Thorn Rose.”

“Oh?” Song Mo perked up. “What kind of skill is it?”

System: “Thorn Rose: A physical manifestation of peak beauty. When activated, it creates a special effect of falling petals. Simultaneously, the target of the skill will feel a needle-like prick of pain, and their health (HP) will drop by 1 point.”

Song Mo: “?”

That sounded incredibly useless!

Song Mo pouted. “Can’t you give me a better ability?”

System: “Insufficient points.”

Song Mo: “…” Well, that’s straightforward.

“Warning, warning!”

The System’s voice suddenly became urgent. “The player team has encountered the Boss prematurely and is about to be wiped out. Please make your entrance immediately and help the players escape their predicament.”

Song Mo tensed up, hurriedly asking for the players’ location before pushing the door open and rushing out.

Before he left, the System added a final instruction: “Please soothe the Boss in a timely manner to prevent him from entering Berserk Mode.”

Song Mo wanted to ask what happened in Berserk Mode, but the System had already gone silent.

With no other choice, Song Mo ran toward the parlor. He expected it to be a long trek, but as soon as he descended the stairs and turned a corner, he ran head-first into several scrutinizing gazes.

Song Mo skidded to a halt.

A massive crystal chandelier hung in the center of the hall, but its light seemed swallowed by the dark red velvet draping the room, leaving the space dim. Despite the gloom, he could clearly see the tarnished bronze furniture and the murals depicting family glory lining the walls.

And beneath those murals sat a man, head resting on his hand, watching him.

The man was dressed in opulent clothing and had a young face with deep, sharp features. However, his excessive thinness and pallor drained away his handsomeness, making him look formidable and deathly. His sinister eyes locked onto Song Mo, looking as if they could strip the flesh right off his bones.

Song Mo realized something and looked toward the floor below the man.

Several men were lined up, kneeling on the ground. At first glance, they looked like punished servants, but a closer look revealed their clothes didn’t match the castle’s aesthetic at all. Song Mo spotted the “gamer-style” weapons they carried and immediately understood—these were the players he needed to protect.

The man sitting in the armchair had to be the Duke.

The Duke stared at him, his lips curling into a grim, chilling smile. “My precious bride, my beloved fiancé. For you, I decorated this castle with gold, silver, jewels, and silk. I welcomed you through these doors, and yet, what do you do?”

“You simply couldn’t wait to cheat on me?”

The word cheat felt like a physical object hitting Song Mo, leaving him dazed.

Before Song Mo could recover, the Duke raised his hand, his finger moving from the person on the far left of the line to the far right.

“A gardener, a florist, a butler, a lowly slave, and a chef… a bunch of low-class nobodies who can’t even stand on a proper stage!”

“Are you truly so insatiable, or are you trying to humiliate me on purpose?”

Song Mo’s head spun faster as the Duke counted them off.

Wait, how many? He was he really that “active”?

Under the weight of the Duke’s accusations, Song Mo was paralyzed with shame, his head hanging so low he nearly buried it in the carpet. As a fresh university student who had never even been in a relationship, he had no idea how to handle such a confrontation. He could only stammer out an apology: ” I’m sorry…”

With just that simple sentence, the coldness on the Duke’s face dissipated slightly. He reached out his hand. “Come here.”

Song Mo obediently walked over.

As he approached, everyone instinctively looked at him. The youth was dressed very thinly, wearing only a white lantern-sleeved nightgown that exposed his pale calves. Amidst the various shades of white, his green eyes were particularly striking, though they were currently filled with terror.

He was clearly scared to death, shaking like a leaf, yet he forced himself to take each step toward that brutal, autocratic Duke of a husband.

It was hard to imagine such a person would cheat. Let alone with five people at once.

One of the players uncomfortably averted his gaze, as if doing so could stop the stray thoughts blossoming in his mind.

Song Mo reached the Duke and was immediately pulled into a firm grasp. Falling into the warm embrace, his eyes widened, and he froze, pressing his hands against the Duke’s chest, his eyelashes trembling uncontrollably.

His raw awkwardness was misinterpreted as rejection. A muscle in the Duke’s jaw twitched, and he gripped the boy’s slender waist even tighter.

“You were so anxious to save them that you ran here without even putting on shoes?”

The gloom on the Duke’s face deepened. His wife’s infidelity filled him with rage, but more than anger, he felt jealousy and resentment. He gritted his teeth, his voice cold and sharp. “What if I kill them all right now?”

Song Mo gasped, his voice rising reflexively. “No!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized the man holding him had bloodshot eyes. The Duke’s face was distorted by jealousy, making him look hideous and terrifying. In the shadows where it was hard to notice, fine, snake-like scales began crawling up his neck.

Song Mo immediately lowered his voice, sounding piteous as he apologized: “No, I didn’t mean it like that…”

Just then, someone spoke up.

“It’s just dating, what’s the big deal?”

The spreading scales stopped. The Duke froze, frowning as he looked down.

Among the punished “low-lifes,” one man stood up, speaking nonchalantly: “He’s a bride you snatched away; you aren’t even married yet. Legally and morally, there’s no requirement for love or loyalty, is there?”

As he stood, the others exchanged glances and hesitantly stood up as well, drawing the weapons at their waists.

The Duke only let out a cold laugh.

The players brandished their swords and charged. For a moment, the castle was filled with the glowing lights of various buffs and skills.

The Duke reached out, his hand passing directly through a player’s chest. The player stared blankly at the blood on his chest, his knees buckled, and he collapsed. With just one more squeeze, his heart would be crushed.

Was the Boss of this dungeon.  this strong?

Despair and regret filled the player’s lungs, but in the next heartbeat, he looked up in a daze.

A flash of red.

Deep, vibrant red petals drifted slowly from the air.

It was the scent of roses. The players couldn’t help but look at the person in the Duke’s arms.

Thorn Rose.

Though there was no wind, a draft swirled around the youth, whipping up a gale of rose petals from beneath his feet and messing up his silken black hair. The petals moved slowly at first, rising to the ceiling before suddenly accelerating, completely enveloping the Duke.

Then, under everyone’s gaze, on the Duke’s handsome face, there slowly—very slowly—appeared a mark.

It looked exactly like a mosquito bite.

All the players: “…”

Song Mo: “…”

Help. How can a skill be this useless?

He felt like slapping the man would have been more effective than this. Song Mo closed his eyes, wishing he could vanish on the spot under the shocked gazes of the crowd.

However, the skill was effective on the Duke.

He stood there stunned, slowly withdrawing his hand. The player thudded to the floor, immediately enveloped by a healing light, but the Duke didn’t care. He simply reached up to touch the mark on his face.

“You… you hurt me for them?” he murmured, disbelief coloring his voice.

Song Mo swallowed hard, struggling to speak. “If I said it was an accident, would you believe me?”

The Duke didn’t answer.

The snake-scales on his neck grew denser, climbing up his cheeks. His entire body began to radiate a visible black aura, and the room was filled with an overwhelming, suffocating pressure. There were no flashy ultimate moves or combat forms—the sheer terror of the level gap was enough to crush everyone.

“Dammit, the Boss has entered Berserk Mode!”

The lead player glanced at Song Mo, hesitating for a few seconds. But seeing his unconscious teammate on the ground, he gritted his teeth, slung his comrade over his shoulder, and retreated rapidly.

Before leaving, he cast a deep, lingering look at Song Mo. The youth was pinned in the Duke’s arms, looking as if he were about to be crushed to pieces.

Song Mo really did feel like he was breaking.

Panic-stricken, he screamed in his mind: “System! System! The Boss is berserk! What do I do?!”

There was no response.

In the next second, the Duke scooped him up horizontally, kicked open the bedroom door, and threw him roughly onto the bed.

Song Mo’s vision went dark. “Save me, save me, save me.”

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