From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL) Chapter 31: Scarlet Doom: Rise of the Blood Demon

Liam was lying in the grass, grasping his throat and struggling for air. It seed as if sothing heavy was forcefully clutching his throat, keeping him from breathing. He was on the edge of losing his wits due to a lack of air, scratching his neck in a desperate attempt to remove the ’object’ that was smothering him. At one point, Liam even wanted to tear a hole in his throat to have air through.

The scene was truly intense. Watching a man squirming in the dirt, making noises similar to an animal in either its heat or its death throes, was not a sight ant to be witnessed.

The audience, who had expected Sian to be either dead or at least bruised from Liam’s punches, stood in stunned silence. They had seen nothing, understood nothing, but that didn’t stop them from admiring the beautiful young man standing in the sa position as before, as if everything around him was unworthy of entering his gaze. He looked like an immortal, regarding the "mortals" with disdain and disgust, not even bothering to cast a single glance at their miserable state.

Sian stood still, yet Liam’s n continued shouting at him:

"Raise your hands where I can see them!"

"Don’t make any sudden moves!"

"Stay where you are! I’ll shoot if you take another step!"

...

And many other such empty threats.

To be honest, Sian had no intention of moving. He didn’t even have the strength to. The reason his expression seed blank—an expression the crowd interpreted as "disdain and disgust toward mortals"—was anger. Sian was furious, cursing under his breath. He had only made two movents, yet every cell in his body scread in pain. How had this weak body even survived until now?

Sian didn’t mind having a small, muscle-less body. This body was perfect for him—it was ninety per cent identical to his original body, making it easier to move without needing to adjust to it first. At least, that was what Sian had assud. Who would have thought that despite its resemblance to his previous physique, this body was nothing but trash?

He had first noticed this during his fight against the wolves and the bear, but at the ti, he had assud it was due to his fever and the pain in his heart. However, his confrontation with Liam had proven otherwise.

When Liam attacked, Sian had moved effortlessly. In truth, his body had barely moved at all—he had only shifted one foot and turned his torso slightly to avoid Liam’s punch, which was aid at his face. Then, with a straight and precise movent, Sian struck the weakest point on his opponent’s body: his neck. He targeted a highly sensitive spot, hitting the main arteries and montarily disrupting their function. This caused Liam to suffocate, stopping the flow of oxygen from reaching his lungs.

Just from these two movents, Sian’s body trembled, weak and exhausted. If not for his strong will, he would have collapsed beside Liam at that very mont. His hand was red as blood, and he felt as if a static current was passing through it, numbing it from his fingertips to his arm.

Because of this, Sian was in a foul mood, completely ignoring the terrorists shouting at him to raise his hands.

To hell with raising his hands. He couldn’t even feel them right now—how did they expect him to move them? Should he just kill them all instead?

Sian’s eyes darkened. Little by little, if his forr subordinates saw him now, they would imdiately recognize the familiar madness creeping in. This was sothing well-known about Sian in his past life.

When he fought, his battles were always filled with strategy, calculated movents, and deep thinking. Sian’s combat style was considered beautiful—not in an aesthetic sense, but in its precision. Every move was efficient, with no unnecessary actions. His fights were clean and swift. This was the side of Sian that everyone admired, the fighter who did his best to save lives and assist others in critical monts.

But his second style of fighting... could only be described as savage, insane, and bloodthirsty. This was the state where Sian lost all rationality, thinking of nothing but the colour red. He would stop at nothing to see that beautiful hue, tearing apart every living thing in his path.

This feral nature was nothing but a psychological illness Sian had developed after years of living in a world filled with death and corpses. It had started after the death of his family and worsened with every tragedy, every passing year. Eventually, Sian had beco known as the "Blood Demon"—his battlefield title.

Sian would enter this state either due to extre anger and emotional instability or when haunted by terrible mories... just as when Marco’s actions had provoked him, nearly driving him to kill him.

Whenever Sian reached this state, there was only one rule that every mber of his team had to follow: "Run." They would get as far away from Sian as possible, lest they be slaughtered as well. Only after the massacre was over, when Sian inevitably fell into a coma, would his team retrieve him and take care of him. But this was under the condition that he was unconscious. No one dared to approach him while he was still in his frenzy.

Now, back to Sian—his eyes burned with seething rage, his thirst for blood slowly rising from deep within his heart. As he looked at the n screaming and aiming their guns at him, his hatred deepened, and his killing intent filled the air around him.

Lan Qisheng noticed the change in Sian’s state. He felt the sa ominous sensation as when Sian had used the wolves to try and kill Marco. That was why Lan Qisheng was deeply worried. It was clear that Sian was on the verge of losing his mind again. He had to stop him—otherwise, he might be shot dead by these terrorists.

Liam, who had been lying on the ground, slowly began to rise. Of course, Sian hadn’t crushed his throat, so naturally, the pain and suffocation would subside after so ti once the shock to Liam’s neck wore off.

"You dare—" Liam snarled through gritted teeth. Now, he had only one objective: to kill this bastard.

Liam saw nothing but Sian before him. Even as his subordinates tried to stop him, suggesting that they could just shoot the boy and be done with it, Liam didn’t listen. Instead, he threatened his n.

"Not a single one of you dares to kill him! That boy is mine. I’ll kill him myself—but not before I make him taste hell first."

Liam’s body recovered quickly, and he walked normally as if he wasn’t the sa man who had been writhing in agony just monts ago. He advanced toward Sian, who was still in the sa position, with the sa blank expression, in the sa spot.

Liam, blinded by rage, failed to notice the eerie look in Sian’s eyes. His anger controlled him, making him oblivious to the atmosphere around the young man he had deed weaker than himself. Even though Sian had knocked him down once, Liam convinced himself that it had only happened because he had let his guard down.

This blind confidence would be the cause of his downfall.

Unable to stop their leader, Liam’s n stepped aside and lowered their weapons.

At that mont, nearly everyone was focused on the impending confrontation between Sian and Liam, so much so that no one noticed the subtle movents of soldiers sneaking up behind them.

When Sian had taken Liam down, nearly all the terrorists had turned to watch, their eyes wary of the boy, forgetting entirely about Lan Qisheng, his n, and the others still bound with ropes. Perhaps they had assud that keeping them tied up was enough, leaving them on the ground as they eagerly waited to see what Liam would do to the boy.

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Author Erato-san has sothing aningful to share:

Greetings, my beloved angels! How are you faring today?

I want to share a personal experience from last night.

Picture this: a serene evening at ho, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows, and a warm atmosphere enveloping . I was enjoying a mont of peace, when suddenly, my dad and brother burst through the door like a whirlwind, bringing a wild energy with them.

Their voices erupted in excited shouts, laughter, and animated exchanges, filling the room with an electric charge. Their enthusiasm was contagious, drawing into their lively stories filled with hilarity.

As the excitent faded and gave way to light-hearted banter, I reflected on how even chaotic monts can turn into fleeting mories. This seemingly trivial event added a delightful twist to my evening, reminding that the simplest disruptions can hold the magic of the unexpected.

...

...Emm not really. To hell with

everything.

So, ladies and gentlen, the next Chapter will be fireworks,

wait for it.

See you soon my angels.

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