Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!

Viewer Discretion Advised

The upcoming 2 chapters contains scenes of intense psychological distress, violence, and implied sexual abuse that may be disturbing or triggering for some readers. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Themes explored in this narrative are dark and may not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Please don't take it lightly!!

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Thinking nothing of their unusual reactions, Celeste happily carried on as if she hadn't noticed the shift in their demeanor. Her voice bubbled with the same childish brightness.

"Ah! By the way, I did bring some pastries. Trust me, they taste superrrrr gooood! I love them so much! You guys should definitely try them."

Her eyes sparkled as she rummaged inside her inventory, her small hands moving with excitement until she triumphantly pulled out a bundle of neatly wrapped pastries. She unwrapped them with flair and extended them toward the slum dwellers with both hands, like she was offering treasure.

Though today they looked at her differently, their gazes heavier and strangely quiet, the people still accepted her offering. The smell of the pastries, sweet and buttery, quickly filled the stale air of the slums. A moment later, the familiar sound of chewing echoed as they bit into the soft bread and cream-filled centers.

Celeste clapped her hands lightly, eyes curving into crescent moons. "Ehehehe~" Watching them devour the pastries so earnestly filled her with warmth. She smiled to herself, feeling proud, as if she had accomplished a small but meaningful task.

Minutes passed in quiet satisfaction. When the last crumb had been swallowed and fingers licked clean, one of them, a burly man with coarse stubble, shoulders too broad for his ragged shirt approached her.

"Princess," he said, his tone oddly soft yet serious. "We have found something special for our story sessions. If you don't mind, could you follow us there?"

Celeste's eyes widened. She raised a finger to her lips and mockingly stroked her chin like a scholar deep in thought. She even furrowed her brows exaggeratedly, her brown hair bouncing with the motion. Then, after holding the moment for dramatic effect, she suddenly nodded, her enthusiasm overflowing.

"Yes! Yes! Why not! Let's go!!" she chirped, bouncing on her toes. "I'll see a new place today. Isn't this another adventure for the little princess here? Ehehehe~."

The burly man smiled, his lips curling with something that didn't quite reach his eyes. The others around him joined in with laughter, some forced, some natural, but all of them complicit.

Without hesitation, Celeste followed them. They moved deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the slums, their chatter a strange mix of jovial banter and whispers that never reached her ears. The air grew denser, fouler, the laughter of children and faint noises of merchants long since faded behind them.

After half an hour of weaving through narrow alleys, broken fences, and mud-caked paths, they finally stopped in front of an old warehouse.

The place looked like it had been forgotten by time. Algae had spread across the lower bricks, dark green patches crawling up the walls. Cracks marred the wooden beams, and several sections of the roof sagged under their own weight. The smell of damp rot leaked from the cracks, mingling with the metallic scent of rusted chains that clinked faintly in the wind.

The burly man gestured toward it with a wide sweep of his arm. "Princess, this is the place. See? This really is how we live around here. Dirty, smelly, falling apart. You always said you were curious about such things, so we decided to show you."

Celeste's eyes gleamed. She had always been mesmerized, fascinated, even by their lives. Not in a mocking way, but with genuine interest, because she wanted to understand them, to someday improve their lives. The thought that they would trust her enough to bring her to such a hidden, precious corner of their world… it touched her heart.

She thought to herself that the five months she had spent hopping from place to place, prying into their lives and pestering them endlessly, hadn't been in vain after all.

Her lips spread into the widest of grins as she spun in place and hopped in delight. "Ehehe~ yes! Yes! Yesh! Yesh!!! Finally, you guys are showing me something hidden. Yayyyy!!!" Her little voice echoed in the abandoned street like a song of triumph.

But at the very back of the group, two of the slum people exchanged hushed words, their voices little more than a guilty breeze.

"Do we really have to go through with this?" one of them muttered, eyes flicking toward the bouncing child. His fists tightened. "She's just a child… and not just any child, one who's helped us a lot."

The other man's jaw clenched. He didn't look at the princess, his eyes instead fixed on the cracked stone beneath his boots. "Don't be a fool. Once we sell this little princess, our lives will be set forever. Even if she's helped us, what can a little girl really do for us in the long run? Think of it as her way of helping us, nothing more."

The first man's lips trembled. He swallowed, his conscience clawing at him. "I don't know… wronging an innocent girl like her feels so wrong. Yes, our lives would be set, but what about her? What will those dealers do to her?"

"That has nothing to do with us," the other snapped, his voice colder now, his eyes dark with greed. "They're probably just spies from another continent. They'll use her as leverage, or bait, or whatever. It doesn't matter. It has nothing to do with us. So stay silent and help us. If you can't…" His voice dropped to a growl. "…then get lost."

"So, princess, how about we go inside?" The burly man said, his voice light, his face containing a blissful smile.

Celeste's bright eyes widened, and she nodded energetically, completely oblivious. "Yes!!!"

Like a happy child chasing a game, she started hopping toward the broken warehouse in front of them. When she arrived at the gate, she froze for a moment. The doors were massive, towering over her tiny frame.

The sheer weight of them made her flinch back, her small hands trembling as she reached for the cold, rust-stained handle. But eventually after gathering all the courage she could muster she pushed, and the gates groaned as they opened.

Inside, there was only darkness. A suffocating, absolute black. Celeste hesitated. She took a few steps in, her small feet dragging against the dusty floorboards, but eventually halted. Her body refused to move forward, as if her instincts were screaming louder than her thoughts.

Then—

The doors slammed shut behind her.

The little cracks of sunlight that had been spilling inside were snuffed out at once. The darkness became total, an unrelenting void that pressed in on her from every side.

Celeste's heart skipped. Fear slammed into her chest like a hammer. Her body stiffened, and she stammered out desperately, her voice trembling, "Please don't close the door! Please! I'm really scared of the dark, please! I really, really, really am scared of the dark! Please!!!"

Her tiny fists banged against the door as she screamed for them to open it, but no one answered. She couldn't see them, couldn't see anything at all, the blackness swallowed everything.

Her fear was absolute. Celeste's knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground, trembling so violently that her teeth clattered. Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and unending, and her small cries tore through the empty warehouse. "Wahhhh! Wahhhhhh! Waaaahhhh!"

The cries echoed across the hollow space, but outside, her kidnappers only frowned in irritation.

One of them muttered, voice low and rough, "If she doesn't shut her mouth, I'll stitch it closed."

Another clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "No need. We don't have to harm her. If we do, her price might drop."

"Hmm… you're right," the first man spat. "Fine. Let's just inform them. Let's go back."

Their decision made, they left. And with that, Celeste was left alone. Completely alone in the suffocating dark.

She kept pleading even after they were gone, her small voice trembling and breaking, "Please! Aren't you my friends?! Why are you doing this? This isn't fun anymore! Please!!! I'm scared! Please let me out!!!"

Her cries clawed against the warehouse walls, but no answer ever came.

Time passed. The cries of the little girl turned hoarse as hours dragged into a full day. By the next morning, she was still trapped, still sobbing in the dark.

The slum people, having heard nothing back from their dealers, decided to keep her inside. Sometimes, they would toss her scraps of food—stale bread, moldy bits—but each time they opened the door, Celeste would rush forward, clinging to their arms, refusing to let go.

"I'm scared," she whimpered, her small fingers clutching desperately at them. "Please… please let me out. Did I do something bad? I swear I'll change, I'll be good! You wanted coins, right? I'll bring coins next time! Just let me out, please!!!"

But her cries and pleas were dismissed coldly, their faces hardened by the cruelty of survival in the slums.

Another day passed. The same cycle repeated. Whenever someone tried to push food toward her, Celeste would not eat. Instead, she would crawl toward them, clinging like a leech, begging to be taken out.

Their patience snapped on the second day.

One of the men grew furious and struck her—his hand cracking across her face, her small body thrown against the ground. The beating continued until she stopped struggling. From that day onward, Celeste no longer dared to cry in front of them.

The fear of the dark still gnawed at her. The betrayal of her so-called friends cut deeper than the pain in her body. Every time she thought of their smiling faces, the faces that had led her here, something inside her broke a little more.

Three days. Four. Time blurred.

Her sobs turned to faint whimpers. The whimpers turned to silence. Even her tears dried up.

The little girl who had once smiled so brightly, who had once trusted so easily, no longer made a sound.

By the time the fifth day passed, Celeste Fontaine was gone.

What remained was just a hollow child, staring blankly into the dark. Broken.