Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



With each passing moment, Damien's earlier hallucination faded further into the recesses of his mind. He realized that the ideal family he had yearned for wasn't a figment of his imagination but rather a reflection of the love and warmth that his real family had always provided.

As the evening drew to a close, the family lingered at the table, not wanting the moment to end. They shared stories, dreams, and plans for the future, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, their bond would remain unbreakable.

In that family gathering, Damien found solace and reassurance. He understood that the love, laughter, and shared moments they experienced were not illusions but real and precious. They were the foundation of his life, the pillars of support that had carried him through his journey.

As the night grew darker, they moved to the cozy living room, gathering around the fireplace. The crackling sound of the logs and the warm glow of the flames created a sense of serenity and comfort. Damien nestled into the plush couch, feeling the soft embrace of the cushions.

His mother, Grace, sat beside him, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're back with us, Damien," she whispered, her voice filled with love and relief.

Damien leaned his head against her, feeling the warmth of her presence enveloping him. "I missed you all so much," he confessed, his voice tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude.

His father, Jeremy, sat across from them in his favourite armchair, a contented smile gracing his face. "We missed you too, son," he said, his voice filled with a father's deep affection. "There's nothing more important than family, and we're always here for you."

Emily snuggled up next to Damien, her small frame fitting perfectly against his side. "Promise you won't disappear again, big brother," she pleaded, her innocent eyes searching his.

Damien's heart melted as he wrapped his arm around her. "I promise, Emily," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll always be here for you, for all of you."

In that moment, Damien realized that the hallucination he had experienced with Lilith wasn't a replacement for his family. It was a longing, a desire for connection and belonging that had manifested in a distorted form. But his real family, the ones sitting beside him, were the ones who had been there for him through thick and thin, supporting him unconditionally.

They spent the rest of the evening engaged in delightful conversations, sharing cherished memories and creating new ones. They played board games, their laughter filling the room, and embraced the simple joys of togetherness. The love that flowed between them was a balm for Damien's soul, healing the lingering wounds of his virtual escapade.

As the night grew late, Damien found himself drifting off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of his family's love. The events of the day, both real and imagined, merged into a bittersweet dream. But this time, it was a dream filled with the realization that his family was his reality, his anchor in a world that could sometimes feel disorienting and uncertain.

In the embrace of his family's love, Damien found peace. He knew that the hallucination he had experienced was a reminder that even in his darkest moments, his mind could conjure illusions of happiness and fulfilment. But it was in the arms of his true family that he found genuine happiness, a love that was steadfast and unwavering.

And as Damien drifted into a deep slumber, a smile played on his lips, for he knew that the next day would be filled with new adventures, laughter, and the ever-present love of his family.

But not everything lasts long, it has been proven many times before.

In the night, when he finally drifted off to the warm embrace of Morpheus' lullaby, he heard a loud crying coming from somewhere in his house. He jolted awake, and his heart raced. His chest tightened, and he felt a wave of panic sweep over him. Had he left something undone? Was someone hurt or sick? What had woken him up in the middle of the night?

He jumped up from his bed, his feet hitting the floorboards with force, ready to spring into action. As soon as he opened his bedroom he saw a candle light from downstairs. He can't see where the light is coming from, but only its brightness. What made his heart tighten was the shadow that danced on the flickering light.

He saw a hammer--no, no a bludgeon or something like that–that was being pulled upwards and then thrown downward, smashing against something. There was blood splattered everywhere, and he could hear screams. A woman's scream.

The sound of the bloody weapon connecting with whatever it was made him cringe.

He knew what was happening, but he didn't want to admit it was real.

He thought if he didn't watch whatever was happening downstairs, then it won't become reality.

He closed his eyes. His whole body was shaking with fear.

A few minutes later, he heard another cry: one that he recognized. One that came from his sister.

Damien rushed down the stairs, stumbling several steps until he reached the bottom landing of his staircase.

There he saw the source of the light, a small lamp shaped like a mushroom, and it was glowing brighter than anything.

On the floor, he saw two bodies; one was his father, and the other was his mother. Their heads were bashed open, and their brains spilt onto the floor, making Damien gag. He looked away because he couldn't bear seeing his parents dead like that.

Two figures stood over their dead bodies, and one of them was holding Emily in a chock hold. She was being held at the counter table. Her head was pressed to the table. Her eyes were wide open, and tears poured down her cheeks.

She reached out with her tiny hands when she saw him. She was saying something- crying for him or something but he couldn't hear her.

Then he saw the bludgeon going up from the second man's hand, and it hit her right on her head.

Her skull exploded.