Chapter 1 | After Physical Therapy, All the Monsters Turned into Goddesses

Cold.

It felt as if countless rusted small knives were scraping the flesh from the gaps in his bones.

"Cough, cough..."

Victor inhaled sharply, his lungs feeling as if they were filled with grit.

Sharp pain radiated from his right leg, instantly shattering any lingering drowsiness.

He tried to move, only to find himself lying face-down in a pool of foul-smelling black mud.

Memories flooded in like a breached dam.

He had transmigrated.

His predecessor was the eldest son of the Corvinus family, yet he had lived his life as a joke. Framed by his stepmother and having his leg broken by his younger brother, he was tossed away like trash into this place known as the 'forbidden zone for humanity'—the Eternal Night Peninsula.

"Awake? The young master’s life is certainly resilient; you didn't even die from a fall like that."

A high-pitched, caustic voice rang out from above.

Victor forced his eyelids open with great effort.

His field of vision was met with a pair of polished leather shoes, forming an ironic contrast with the mud-stained ground.

Robert, the housekeeper, looked down at him from a height. He held a snow-white handkerchief tightly over his nose, as if Victor were some kind of contagious virus.

"Water..." Victor’s voice was hoarse, as if he had swallowed glowing coals.

"Water?"

Robert laughed, the two tips of his mustache twitching with a mocking curve.

"My dear young master, this is the Eternal Night Peninsula, a place cursed by the gods. You want to drink water? Is the muddy water on the ground not enough for you?"

Thud.

A piece of black bread, as moldy and hard as a brick, was tossed down. The resulting splash of mud smeared across Victor's face.

"This is Madam Catherine’s final act of mercy."

Robert brushed off non-existent dust from his tailcoat.

"Madam said that although you attempted to defile Miss Elena and disgraced the family's reputation, the Duke is merciful and has spared your miserable life. As long as you can survive here, the family will no longer pursue the matter."

Survive?

Here?

Victor looked at the gray mist that clung to the area year-round and listened to the eerie roars coming from the distant woods.

Forget a crippled man with a broken leg—even a fully armed squad of knights would be entering their graves here.

This wasn't exile; it was an execution.

"Shameless..." Victor gritted his teeth, his fingernails digging deep into the mud.

It was a setup.

That woman, Elena, had lured him into her room and torn her own clothes while screaming. Immediately after, his 'good' brother, Lancelot, had burst in with men and, without a word, used a scepter to shatter Victor's leg.

'Big brother, with a broken leg, you won't be able to run back.'

Lancelot’s hypocritical smile from that moment was identical to Robert’s expression right now.

"Save your strength."

Robert glanced at the darkening sky, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes.

"It's almost night. Those little man-eating darlings are about to come out. I have no intention of staying to feed the monsters with you."

He turned and climbed into the black carriage adorned with the Silver Eagle crest.

The coachman cracked his whip, and the two black nightmare horses snorted, pawing the ground anxiously.

"Oh, right."

Robert leaned his head out of the carriage window, his smile cruel and playful.

"Master Lancelot asked me to tell you that Miss Elena’s skin is very smooth. It’s a pity you’ll never get the chance to feel it. But don't worry—after you're dead, the young master will 'take good care' of her for you."

Rumble—

The carriage sped away, leaving a trail of dust.

The last trace of living breath vanished.

All that remained was a deathly silence and the encroaching darkness.

Victor lay on the ground, staring fixedly in the direction where the carriage had disappeared.

Was he angry? Of course.

As a top surgeon in his previous life, he was accustomed to life and death, but this act of trampling over family ties like garbage still made him feel nauseous.

"This body... is absolutely wretched."

Victor took a deep breath, forcing down his rage.

He was a doctor; the more desperate the situation, the more rational he had to be.

He struggled to roll over, the intense pain causing his vision to blacken in waves.

He looked down at his right leg.

His trouser leg was soaked through with purple-black bruised blood, and his lower leg bone was bent at a grotesque, twisted angle.

"Comminuted fracture of the tibia and fibula, accompanied by severe soft tissue contusion."

Victor made the diagnosis instantly, and his heart sank.

"No antibiotics, no splints... in this environment, it will go necrotic within three days, followed by secondary sepsis."

This was a death sentence.

The sky turned completely dark.

Night on the Eternal Night Peninsula was a forbidden zone for the living.

The temperature plummeted, and the frigid mist seemed to burrow into his bones like a living thing.

Hiss—

A skin-crawling friction sound came from the grass.

The hair on Victor’s body stood on end.

His years of instinct as a forensic doctor told him—something was watching him.

And it was very hungry.

He stiffly turned his head.

In the mist less than ten meters behind him, two spheres of eerie green ghost-fire lit up.

With a gust of foul wind, a massive dark shadow slowly stepped out.

By the faint moonlight, Victor saw the creature clearly.

It was a wolf.

Or rather, it was a mobile wolf corpse.

It was as large as a bull, its flesh rotting and exposing grayish-white muscle. Most terrifying was its abdomen, which was torn open with a large hole; several bleached ribs poked out, and through the gap, blackened internal organs were faintly visible with every breath.