Iron heard a voice in his head say:
"Get up, you half-dead corpse... The world won't wait for you to decide if you'll be the rapist or the victim."
He opened his eyes with difficulty. Zara was still leaning on his shoulder, her breathing more stable—though blood glistened on her lower lip like hell-forged lipstick.
He wanted to say something… but just stared at the sky.
Then suddenly… he remembered.
"The notification… there was a notification before I became this ghoul's pillow."
He closed his eyes and opened the system in his mind.
[Mission "The Great Escape" – Completed]
[Reward: +100 Special Power Points. +Recovery Ointment]
He looked at the notification like it was mocking him.
"Really? Now you remember I completed the mission? I was seconds away from getting violated from the inside out, and now you tell me: good job?"
He took a deep breath… no, not deep.
More like the inhale of a man checking if his ass was still intact post-surgery.
Then—ointment.
A small tube, somewhere between toxic green and minty-pervert, gently dropped to the ground beside him like a cursed gift from the universe.
He picked it up.
[Recovery Ointment – Instant treatment for wounds and physical pain using natural and supernatural ingredients. Can be applied to any injured area. Accelerates healing and gives a refreshing, restorative sensation. But… may trigger unexpected desires in certain cases.]
He raised an eyebrow.
"What is this? Nivea cream from hell?"
He reached for his knee—torn skin, the flesh beneath swollen and angry, like it demanded rights as a living entity.
"Ah, my knee… How did I ignore you before? Probably because my ass was stealing the spotlight."
He let out a ragged sigh and thought…
This world didn't run on logic.
Everything in it was instinctual, animalistic—but wrapped in a system that looked like a kinky RPG. Skills, stats, lust...
Even the ghoul beside him—Zara.
He looked at her.
She was still breathing, softly, femininely… or at least what femininity sounds like after being filtered through a demonic speaker.
Half-naked. Half-dead. And half… something else, with no name.
He felt like he was truly seeing her for the first time.
That cracked grey skin on her shoulders gave way to curves—painfully soft, painfully human.
Her face?
He could say it was beautiful… but that would be like calling fire "warm."
There was something in her… that awakened every instinct—and strangled them at the same time.
Half her body whispered: Touch me.
The other half: Touch me... and die slowly.
He wanted to get up. Move away.
But he could barely move his knee.
"Damn it… I'm gonna die here, next to a half-conscious horny ghoul and a tube of pervy ointment."
He laughed.
Laughed like a man who just saw a joke being violated by a failed webnovel author.
Then… a thought.
He looked at the ointment.
Then at Zara.
Then at himself.
"What if... I help her? Use the ointment on her? Will it heal her? Or make her... horny and hungry?"
But she was wounded.
Her shoulder pierced, her chest crushed, her left side moving like a semi-conscious blood sack.
"If she were my enemy, she would've finished me. But now... she's weak. Passive. Maybe... if I heal her, she'll reward me? Or at least, not eat me?"
He opened the tube.
The scent?
Mint.
But the kind of mint that reminds you of being betrayed by your best friend in a shared bathroom.
He squeezed a little—the clear gel slid onto his finger like alien saliva.
He moved closer.
His body trembled.
His eyes wandered over her curves, her torn skin, her chest barely covered by anything but blood.
"Where do I start? The shoulder? No… that's too close to the breast. If she sees me touching her there, she might think I'm groping. And if she doesn't… I might actually grope."
He bit his lip.
Then looked at her right knee.
Also wounded. But less… arousing.
"Ah, the knee. The sanctuary of chastity."
He reached out slowly, applying the gel over the injured skin.
Suddenly—
She shuddered.
Her whole body.
A short gasp escaped her bloodied lips.
Then a low moan.
Like she was tasting the memory of a ghostly touch.
Iron froze.
Did she wake up?
No… not fully.
But her body... responded.
Heat rose from her skin.
Then… a tremor.
From the knee… to the thigh… upward.
"No no no... I'm just healing you. I'm not an OBGYN. I swear!"
He pulled his hand back, breathing fast.
Then looked at the tube.
Half of it—gone.
"Evaporating magic? Or is Zara absorbing it through her skin like a horny sponge?"
Then, a new notification appeared:
[Half of the ointment consumed.]
[Zara recovered 70% of her vitality.]
[Warning: Instinctive arousal detected. Partial sexual stimulation in target.]
"Of course. Even healing is sexual here."
But Zara didn't attack him.
Instead—very slowly—she opened her eyes.
Her pupils were foggy, but locked onto him.
Her lips parted slightly, releasing a long exhale… more moan than word.
She said something… but he didn't hear it.
Even if he had, he wouldn't have understood it.
But he… felt it.
A soft touch.
Her fingers reached out and grazed his hand.
Not a grip. Just contact—like saying: Don't stop.
He looked at her.
Her beauty wasn't magazine-type. Not even dream-type.
It was something else.
Beautiful because it was dangerous.
Beautiful because it was real, feral, and untamed.
He said with a trembling voice:
"I… don't know what I'm doing."
But she didn't answer.
She just looked at him… like seeing a creature for the first time—and wanting to taste it.
Then she rested her head on the ground… and closed her eyes.
Like saying: Continue.
He reached for her shoulder this time.
Started applying the ointment.
Her skin was warm… supple… pulsing under his fingers.
And the ointment?
It was like a lover's saliva—flowing fast, awakening things that shouldn't awaken during first aid.
Zara moaned.
Quiet… but unmistakable.
He felt something stir inside him.
Not a wound… but an old desire, coming back to life.
He whispered:
"Damn you, system… turning every moment into a trial, and every treatment into temptation."
But… he didn't stop.
And he didn't resist.
Because something inside him… was changing.
Something like taming.
But not taming her.
Taming the beast within him.
Then… silence.
A strange moment between two breaths.
His hand withdrew. She didn't move.
But her body… began to change.
Wounds closed fast, skin reformed, shine returned—no, not returned.
Evolved.
Zara was no longer what she was.
She became… more beautiful.
In an inhuman way.
Her cracked face became smooth, sculpted, with features that silence the tongue and awaken forbidden places.
Her breasts swelled slightly… or maybe it was the angle. Who cared. The result: more tempting.
Her lips—plump, glistening, like someone had painted them after a dark sex ritual.
Her gray skin now shimmered… lustful. Like a body covered in light sweat after a very private workout.
Iron swallowed.
"Oh god… I've created my own demoness. An upgraded version—like the system said: Oh, you like monsters? Here, have a horny ghoul 2.0."
His mind exploded with a thousand thoughts.
"Can I touch her again? Just for inspection? Scientifically? Like post-treatment evaluation?"
The ointment was way too effective.
And his urges? Out of the bottle, dancing naked in his brain screaming: Touch her again, just to see how smooth the healing is.
Then…
She looked at him.
Long.
A look unlike before.
Not lustful. Not hostile.
But… shy.
Shocking.
Then slowly, hesitantly, she raised her hand…
And gently pushed his face away.
As if to say: Don't look. Not now.
Her body still exposed… but for the first time, he felt like she was embarrassed.
That creature who moments ago was panting like a beast in heat was now trying to hide her ruined chest from his eyes.
He froze.
Something inside him cracked.
Not disappointment that the scene ended.
But because… he remembered she was a being. With will… emotion… boundaries.
Then, as if the system was watching them from a plush seat behind a perverted monitor, a new notification appeared:
[System Notice: Zara's sexual hunger has been calmed.]
[Instinctual/emotional bond rebalanced.]
He read it, like the system was whispering in his ear:
"The show's over, buddy."
He stared at the window.
Expressionless.
Then muttered:
"Yeah… sure. Because everything here is measured by hunger, recovery… and my ass."
He closed the notification.
And looked at her again.
She averted her eyes, breathing slowly, not speaking… not connecting… but alive.
Very alive.
And him?
He was like a cracked wall—half collapsed, half trembling from everything that happened… and everything that didn't.
Inside him, something broke.
Something called simple understanding.