My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 692: Chapter 693: Who’s Your Daddy

“What now, should we find a place to rest?” Waton asked, looking at Damon, who seemed barely able to keep himself standing.

Damon shrugged his shoulders, blood dripping steadily onto the ground.

“Wait a minute… there’s something I want to get off my chest first.”

He slowly walked toward Waton.

“There’s something important I want to tell you.”

Waton nodded as Damon came closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. Then, in an unexpected turn of events, he snatched the squirrel from Waton’s shoulder.

“Got you,” he whispered in an icy voice as the squirrel in his hand squealed and tried to escape.

Damon let out an evil laugh, bringing Scar closer.

“Muhahahahahahheheh.” Scar tried to wiggle free, but Damon’s grip was iron tight.

“I knew if I tried to catch you, you would run. But I got you.”

Scar squealed, begging for mercy.

Damon grabbed the furry tail, smiling evilly.

“Any last words, you damn rodent?”

Scar tried to plead her case, squeaking frantically for help from Wendy, the only one who could understand her. But Wendy suddenly remembered that Scar had betrayed her for Damon.

“Bad… bad traitor.” She turned her back on the squirrel.

Damon’s grip tightened as his expression darkened.

“You brought my enemy to my doorstep.”

Scar raised a paw in protest.

“I was helping you! And second, it wasn’t even your doorstep, you stole that tent!” she squealed.

Damon wasn’t hearing any of it. He swung her around by the tail, spinning her in wide circles over his head as she squealed in dizziness, then threw her to the ground.

“Next time you get wise, I’ll cook you.”

The squirrel staggered upright, barely standing, and raised a paw in shaky approval.

“Now that we got that out of the way… let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.”

Waton nodded, his stomach growling already.

“It’s almost morning. It’s been a really long night. I can’t believe I made it… my luck has never been this bad, but this time I had truly rotten luck. I lost my entourage, I ended up teleporting in the midst of demons, I got held hostage by your old flame… it’s like I got caught under an ominous star.”

“Ahem, ahem.”

Damon cleared his throat, knowing full well he was the reason Waton had such rotten luck.

“Don’t worry, Wagon. From here on out, it’ll be smooth sailing.”

Waton raised an eyebrow, already beginning to trust Damon despite himself, his arrogance slowly fading.

“You don’t sound very reliable, covered in blood like that.”

Damon waved his hand dismissively.

“Relax, it’s fine. Everything is under control. Wendy will protect us. She’s a big girl.”

The Wendigo, who had been silently watching the entire time, blinked, not understanding why she would protect these two.

Waton didn’t seem convinced either. He took a step back, hiding behind Damon. She looked more likely to kill them than protect them.

Damon sneered, pushing him aside.

“Watch, fool. I have tamed the beast. Observe.”

He walked up to Wendy, who was dressed in Abellona’s clothes.

She glared at him as he approached. Damon straightened his back, putting on his most condescending expression even though he was barely standing.

“Sit,” he commanded.

Wendy didn’t even move. She only glanced at him with disdain.

“Ahem, ahem.” Damon cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I mean… roll over… erm… paw.”

She didn’t react, her brow furrowing instead.

Damon turned to Waton, clearing his throat again.

“She doesn’t speak our language very well. She can’t understand me.”

Wendy raised her fist and punched him straight in the gut, sending him flying into a shattered wall.

“Understand. Not care.”

Damon staggered to his feet, coughing as he brushed off the dust.

“Ahh, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

He glanced at the broadcast orbs floating nearby.

“I am a man of character.”

He walked toward Wendy, closing his eyes dramatically.

“It seems… I was damaged by your punch. From the looks of it, I won’t be able to have babies for a very long time.”

Wendy’s expression shifted from irritation to horror, her face paling as if she had just seen a ghost.

Before she could speak, Damon raised his hand.

“But… I… I can heal… if… ahh, it’s fine. Leave it be. It’s difficult. I guess I’ll just have to go my whole life without having children.”

Wendy’s pupils shook, her body trembling. Damon sighed with a melancholic expression.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Waton stared at him, completely lost.

Wendy was already on the verge of tears.

“Ho… how fix?” she stammered.

Damon sighed again, keeping his tone deliberately heavy.

“Well… humans are weird. We have something crucial for reproduction. It’s called an ego. Apparently, if it’s bruised, we just can’t do anything. But… it can be healed if a woman is submissive… almost like a slave… no, better, a pet.”

He waved his hand casually.

“Of course, you can’t do that. You’re a big girl.”

He turned away, waiting. And as expected, she broke.

“What… what I do? What want me do?”

Damon smiled.

’Like shooting fish in a barrel.’

He placed a finger on his chin as Waton and the entire world watched with stupefied expressions.

“Well, you can start by giving me… hand.”

She gave him her hand.

He smirked wickedly. Damon loved abusing power.

“Hmmm… how about… sit.”

She sat.

“Hmmm… roll over.”

She glanced at the ground, then at the dress she wore. Without hesitation, she lay down and rolled.

It was quite a sight, a grown woman rolling in the dirt like a dog.

Damon couldn’t hold back his smile.

Waton looked at him, unimpressed. Having seen many depraved nobles before, he muttered,

“You look like a man awakening to a new fetish.”

Damon didn’t care about his words.

“Now kneel.”

She kneeled before him.

“Tongue out.”

She quickly stuck her tongue out.

“Now say woof woof.”

“Woof woof.”

Damon didn’t know what this feeling was, but he was loving it.

“Who’s your daddy?” Damon asked, the power already corrupting his depraved soul.

“You’re my daddy.”

“Say it louder,” he laughed, lost in the darkness.

“Daddy!”

Waton knew there was no bringing him back. He had already awakened to a fetish. Still, he had to try, the world was watching.

“Hey, isn’t that dress expensive? Is it really alright to get dirt on it?”

Damon glanced at him, waving his hand dismissively.

“It’s just Piyon. It’s rare, and my sister has one.” Waton continued.

There was a look of disdain on Damon’s face.

“Huh, you think your sister is the only one with a black Piyon dress? Huh, huh?”

Waton blinked, looking away awkwardly.

“Actually… yes. That’s an heirloom from the late Empress Dowager.”

Damon glanced at the magic orbs broadcasting around them, realizing what that meant.

He was the one who had given Wendy the dress. The question on everyone’s mind was how this wretch had gotten hold of the princess’s dress.

“How did you come across it?”

“Cough, cough… I… well… erm… cough.” Damon began coughing violently, using the fit as an excuse not to answer. Blood splattered from his lips, a perfect distraction from the question he didn’t dare answer.