Quick Transmigration: Male Lead, You’re Overpowered?

“Ah?”

Zhao glanced up at him and realized that he was stripping him.

“Oh.” She answered.

Slowly walked to His Majesty the Demon King and reached out to untie his belt.

The collar instantly dissipated.

Zhao then stopped moving.

His Majesty looked at her.

Zhao looked back at the past with purity and said: “Your Majesty, you... are too tall for me. ”

Demon King: "…”

He gave Zhao a “what do you want?" look. He took off his robe himself.

Azhao stared at his movements.

Somehow, in her mind, all the things that Joanna and Lizzie had said earlier came out of nowhere.

“I don't know how many abs His Majesty has...” This thought flashed in her head.

Thinking about it, Zhao's ears got warm and his eyes whispered up. He looked at the Demon King quietly.

How could her little move escape His Majesty's senses?

While spitting on the little girl, she had an incredible thought for herself. Her Majesty's fingers moved and her vest scattered.

Zhao's eyes slowly opened, and she didn't have time to marvel because of the perfect body with wide shoulders and narrow waist in front of her, so her attention stopped somewhere.

It was a lame scar that appeared on the flawless back of this jade, as if it were some kind of ominous curse.

Feeling her gaze, the Demon King turned his head.

Unfortunately, Zhao didn't have the energy to count his abs this time. Her eyes set on the area of his heart - where there was a scar exactly like the wound on his back.

She understood instantly: once, there was a sharp instrument that penetrated his body from the most lethal part of his heart.

His Majesty looks at the girl in front of him.

She was still very young, naive, pure blue eyes looking at the once deadly wound on herself with heartache and intolerance.

He smiled softly and knelt down in front of Zhao.

Long hair like crow feathers scattered on the ground, like brocade.

He reached out his hand and held Zhao's hand and pressed it against the wound.

His hands were cold, his heart wasn't even hot, and his tone was malicious:

“Zhao, this is 300 years ago, you Blanche ancestors, personally left it behind. ”

He stared closely at the girl in front of him and wanted to see how she would react.

Panic or shock? Or is it heartbreak?

None, however.

Those blue eyes looked up at him, and he was filled with heartache: "Are you in pain? ”

Demon King.

The girl had bowed her head and kissed it.

The soft touch is blown through the wound, like a feather, like the spring breeze of Sranka.

Sranka, it's Oliven's hometown. The Holy See's legions became a dead town in the name of "purification" because of the harbouring of heavily wounded Oliven.

Every winter, the wound is hidden in pain, reminding him of hatred and pain that should not be forgotten.

Not yet, but the Demon King thought, because of the little girl's kiss, the scar was in hidden pain again.

Just this time, not like before.

It's not that cold wind, the whole chest is freezing to death.

It's like a soft bud on barren soil with a broken shackle, sprouting bud tips.

Although it hurts, it feels the vibration of blood flow.