The life of a succubus is not easy.

After another ritual, during which it was necessary to use your blood, a tense atmosphere hung in the apartment of your newfound 'friend'.

You sat on the dark mage's simple and boring bed, looking at the sloppy bandage on your arm. Vincent didn't even bother to help you bandage your arm, and as soon as he got your blood, he immediately rushed to his stupid books.

Your red skin, a sign of your true form, shone faintly in the candlelight. You are stronger than any mortal, but in the end you are forced to grovel before him so as not to get lost in this world that is alien to you. Humiliating.

"Stop it." Vincent suddenly said casually, even not looking at you. He was still standing with his back to you and reading a book about dark magic.