Quick Transmigration and Childbirth: The Target is Not Human

This whip is made of a special material, originally designed for pleasure in bed, leaving only marks without drawing blood when it strikes a person.

From the time the drug took effect until it fully manifested, she kept whipping him. The poor guy cooperated at first, but later, just as he was falling asleep and closing his eyes, she would whip him awake again.

His bloodshot eyes, brimming with tears, gazed at her: "Ugh...it hurts..."

The crisscrossing red whip marks reappeared on his fair skin, and his wrists and ankles were also marked with red welts from his struggles.

"So you do feel pain?" Xia Yangyang smiled, her grip on the whip tightening. He had probably reached his limit, so she threw the whip on the ground, raised her hand to wipe his eyelids, and said, "Alright, I'm tired of playing too. Go to sleep."

I almost lost my temper; it's more important to get down to business.

Seeing that Hati's breathing had stabilized, Xia Yangyang took the blood exchange needle out of the drawer. Compared with the dark blood before, the little lamb's blood was bright red and still warm.

If he knew that the blood of a lamb was mixed in with the blood of the wolf king, which was his most precious bloodline, he would probably be scorned by his people and fall from heaven to hell overnight.

The metallic needle hovered over the bulging veins in the neck for a while, hesitating to make the move. This blood transfusion needle was too potent; it wouldn't be good if he were turned into a wolf jerky.

So they simply used a whip to strangle his arm and then drew blood from the center of his elbow.

The moment the needle pierced the blood vessel, a slightly cool voice suddenly rang out:

"What is this?"

Werewolves are naturally extremely sensitive to danger; they can sense malice even when they are weak.

Xia Yangyang's hand trembled slightly, but she quickly calmed down.

She tilted her head to meet his gaze, her smile captivating: "Once you reach the underworld and see the Asura Rakshasa, you'll naturally know what it is."

Hati's heart felt like it couldn't breathe.

The whip marks on her body still stung, and no matter how sleepy she was, it couldn't compare to the shock of the excruciating pain she felt when she heard those words. Her eyes welled up with tears.

"Why?" he asked, his lips trembling. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Oh dear, I thought you already knew!" Xia Yangyang exaggeratedly covered her mouth. "You're allowed to set things up, but others can't?"

His face turned pale uncontrollably, little by little.

Two lines of tears slid down his already bloodshot eyes, and he stared at her without moving, his gaze chillingly unsettling: "Why can't you trust me one more time? I've already said, I didn't intend for you to be sacrificed."

Xia Yangyang was in a good mood. She curled her fingers and traced his lips: "So who do you want to sacrifice? You always say 'let me go' to me when you're happy. But when you're unhappy, you'll pick up the most cutting and humiliating words to attack me and crush my dignity under your feet."

"...I didn't."

"Why, Hati? Just because I'm human, weaker than you, because I lost this game, and because I fell in love with you?"

Upon hearing the words "I've fallen in love with you," his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately denied it: "That's not true—"

"What about now?" she immediately retorted. "And what do you think now?"

The blood transfusion has been almost finished.

She forcefully pulled out the needle, and two drops of blood splattered onto her cheek, as if they were burning off a layer of skin. She switched to the other end of the injection, no longer caring about technique, and pierced the bulging vein.

The cold and sluggish sensation of the foreign object invading the blood is like a damp loach, quickly carving a filthy path through the blood.

"I'm in so much pain..." Hati's voice was soft and drawn out because of his confusion, as if the slower he spoke, the more he could emphasize something. "Because you are the person I love most, and you want to kill me."

The sorrow in his eyes seemed to flow out with his tears.

"Then you should be even happier," Xia Yangyang said, staring intently into his eyes without wiping the blood from her face. "This is the first time you've truly empathized with me."

"..."

"You should remember this torment until you die."

Hati's pupils seemed hollowed out, leaving only a dark void; his voice was barely audible.

"But I've never really hurt you..."

Xia Yangyang tapped her fingers on the bed board, waiting. Her initial desire for revenge turned into magnanimity when she saw the once proud guy now unable to move: "If I were you, I would take advantage of the drug's effects and get a good night's sleep, and not waste this last bit of mercy."

The injection process was much faster than drawing blood. The sheep's blood gradually drained out, and she pulled out the needle and left.

"Where are you going?!"

Seeing her walk toward the door, the person who had been weak and crying just a second ago suddenly became agitated and began to struggle against the chains.

Xia Yangyang handed the blood-changing needle to the puppet, instructing it to deliver it, then turned to look at him: "Of course I'm running for my life, otherwise, do you want me to chase after you?"

"No, why would I chase after you?"

"Hehehe..."

"Don't go, I'm begging you, sister, don't go..." Despite taking so many drugs, he still possessed incredible strength, the chain of events showing signs of breaking. His face was streaked with tears. "Didn't you say you'd never leave me alone on a full moon night again?"

"Oh, I was just kidding."

"Don't go, don't go, sister... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I apologize. Hit me, please, don't go."

Hati cried so hard he looked like he'd been pulled out of the water; he was completely covered in tears.

But the palace doors were still mercilessly closed from the outside. When the doors opened, the bright light briefly swept across his outstretched arm and then disappeared.

The chains broke.

But Hati didn't chase after him. He curled up on the cold bed, his shoulders trembling from sobs, his heart crumbling piece by piece.

The ice and snow in the North are so cold.

You've left. It will be a very, very long time before I see you again.

That night, Hati slept with great difficulty.

The abrupt separation during the bond-building period is even the most insignificant one.

Within his body, the turbulent sheep blood underwent a dramatic change after being flushed into the pure and domineering bloodline of the wolf king.

It's like pouring cold water into boiling oil, producing scalding steam that expands a thousandfold.

Two forces collided and tore wildly through his meridians and bones.

Even in his deep sleep, his jaw was clenched so tightly it was grinding, veins bulging on his forehead, and cold sweat soaked the velvet mattress beneath him…

*

The three-day challenge becomes increasingly difficult as it progresses. Strong players often observe the game in the first two days to understand Hati's playing style and prepare countermeasures in advance.

Another tribal chief failed in his challenge and crashed to the ground with a loud bang, drawing boos from the audience.

Not only did he lose face, but he was also severely injured. He won't be able to get back on his feet for at least a month.

Everyone could see that their new leader acted in a unique and domineering manner, intending to turn the Northern Region into his personal fiefdom.

Lorne covered half of his face with a fan to prevent dust from getting into his mouth and nose.

A deacon approached respectfully, bowing, and said, "Lord Lorne, it's almost your turn. We've prepared some energy-boosting drinks and snacks. Would you like some?"

Lorne closed his fan, his sinister eyes fixed on the dark figure on the arena, a hint of smugness flashing within them: "Didn't your prince rest well last night? He looks much weaker."

"Your Highness is well. If you need to replenish your energy, please follow me."

"No need, he's been standing up there all day, hasn't he?"

"Okay, this way please."

The arena, built of massive stones, resembled a sacrificial altar at dusk.

The stands were packed with a bustling crowd, with nobles dressed in fine silk robes and commoners in coarse linen clothes, their shouts echoing through the air.

Hati stood in the center of the field, his short blond hair fluttering in the wind.

A wet handkerchief was handed to him from the sidelines. He took it and wiped away the blood and bits of flesh remaining on his knuckles and nails, but his gaze kept following an inconspicuous corner off the court.

The last challenger stepped up.

When the referee announced his opponent's name, he didn't even bother to listen until the thin figure emerged from the shadows opposite him, at which point he lazily raised his eyelids.

Lorne Casley stood before him, his deep-set red eyes like two will-o'-the-wisps.

"Your Highness Hati," Lorne's voice was low and husky, suppressing a barely suppressed excitement, "you are finally standing before me."

Hati nodded slightly, a gesture of courtesy appropriate to ordinary nobles.

He couldn't attract much attention from him; after all, every warrior who aspired to become the leader dreamed of defeating a genius with the bloodline of the Wolf King.

The bell rang.

Hati struck first, his movements swift and fierce. He didn't need years of training to master the precision of his punches, and his natural strength advantage left other werewolves far behind.

A few clean and crisp combinations easily cornered Lorne, and deafening cheers erupted from the stands.

"Give up," Hati said calmly during the fight, "if you don't want to end up like the last one."

Lorne's lips twisted into a bizarre smile: "You really are even more arrogant than the rumors say? Disgustingly arrogant!"

Just as Hati was about to end the three-day, boring and formalized challenge, his opponent suddenly lowered his body, and like a clone, a lifeless "puppet" that looked similar to him took his hit.

That familiar smell.

The image of the two puppets outside the northernmost side hall flashed through his mind, as well as the day he had witnessed his lover hiding a small puppet in the wardrobe.

Hati frowned deeply; in that moment of distraction, he felt a sharp pain in his ribs—

The "puppet" held a highly precise silver blade between its fingers, tearing open his flesh.

"So it was you?" Hati took several steps back, his expression suddenly turning terrifyingly sinister.

When he first looked directly at his tall, thin opponent, he saw the resentment that had been building up in his eyes for years.

"You don't remember me, Your Highness. The Kasley family has served the werewolf clan for nine generations and made great contributions, but was expelled and banished to the northern border just because of a single sentence ten years ago: 'Weak bloodline, unfit for great use.'"

Hati had no impression of the Kasley family. He was not the type to be bound by a powerful family, and he couldn't understand what they were so obsessed with.

His mind was filled with the blood transfusion injection from last night, the same puppet, and his lover's schemes.

Everything clicked for him. He looked at the gaunt werewolf before him and laughed, a laugh that sent chills down one's spine.

His heart was pounding wildly, and a surge of anger was coursing through his body uncontrollably. He was on the verge of exploding from within.

So, she spared his life just so that he could become the leader?

Does she think he's better than her?

His taste remains as poor as ever.