Quirkless Mastermind

C-9:Gluttony

Splashh     

A lost soul

Splashh 

A murderer

Splashh 

An accident 

Splashh

Depraved hunger

All described this blonde-haired maniac laying on the floor. Dumping a few buckets of icy cold water, seemed to slowly bring her back to her senses as I sat down on my chair. It was rackety, but the best I could manage. 

Most would think I had gone crazy, bringing a psychotic brutal murderer into my home, defied logic. Yet, this was the most logical way for me to gain power in this quirk-filled world. Power manifests itself through two distinct avenues. The first, as widely acknowledged, lies in the possession and mastery of quirk abilities—a prevailing and commonplace method. Yet, I have discerned the significance of the second avenue, one that emphasizes the mastery of control. It is through wielding absolute authority over quirk users. Within the confines of our structured and law-abiding society, such leaders reign supreme.

It seems this girl was finally awake, "W-Where am I? Argh, it hurts! Where is my blood? Huh!! WHERE??? WHERE?? I NEED IT I NEED-"

Her voice quiveringly got louder, and the pain in her voice was clearer, even just 5 seconds after her waking up, her hunger took over. It was unsatiated. She was dizzy, her body was already weak and now the added concussion didn't keep her in good condition. 

"Good Afternoon."

"W-WHO ARE YOU? DID YOU STEAL THE BLOOD? GIVE ME PLEASE!!!"

"What if I don't-"

She didn't let me finish as she pounced yet again, this time like a hungry animal ready to suck me dry. 

Shut up Hornykouji. 

This time, it would be risky if I hurt her again so the best option would be to carry out the pleasure response. I shoved my hand inside her fanged mouth as I felt those shut tight. Her mouth now coated with my glistening red blood under the flickering bulb of my apartment made the atmosphere quite grim.

"ARGhhh...ARHGHH....uhhh....hmm....mmhmm....mhmm...m....more..m.."

As I swiftly withdrew my forearm from her grasp, a peculiar amalgamation of sensations washed over me, compelling my analytical mind to delve deeper into the mystery at hand. The texture of her saliva, akin to a sticky wax, left an indelible imprint upon my hand, effectively glueing down the once-erect hairs. Its viscosity bore a striking resemblance to the secretions of the Hirudin, the notorious leech.

Curiously, the absence of any perceivable pain or irritation in the puncture region provoked my deductive faculties to engage. Hypothesizing that her saliva, akin to that of a leech, might contain Hirudin—an anticoagulant aptly named after the insect—it seemed plausible that its presence could account for the lack of discomfort. Furthermore, the potential inclusion of morphine, acting as a potent analgesic, intensified the enigma surrounding this perplexing encounter.