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

The rest of the group quite literally ignored the chaotic duo of Art and Lilith, one screaming bloody murder, the other laughing like a sadistic demon, and instead chose the safer path, moving toward Mia, Celeste, and Verena.

Along the way, Evelyn tilted her head toward Leon, her voice soft but carrying a trace of disapproval. "Why did you do that? There was no point in instigating Art… he would've done it either way."

Leon, of course, had no shame whatsoever. He burst into a fit of laughter so boisterous it echoed in the air. "Ahahahahaha! Yeah, I know! That's exactly why it's even funnier to poke the beast! Seriously, did you not see the look on Lilith's face? Priceless! Absolutely priceless! Ahahahahahaha!"

Evelyn sighed, but before she could scold him further, Celeste cut in, her elbow resting lazily on her knee, chin propped against her palm. Her half-lidded eyes gleamed with a hint of annoyance.

"You're looking awfully happy, Leon. Tell me, are you the one who caused this little drama between Art and Lilith?"

Leon didn't even hesitate. Raising his hands in a mock surrender, his grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Yes, ma'am. You caught me red-handed. I was the director, the mastermind, the genius behind this beautiful, award-winning scene. Now, bask in my brilliance and shower me with praise."

Clap— Clap—

The synchronized sarcasm in the half-hearted claps that followed could not have been clearer. But Leon, being Leon, chose to interpret it as divine worship.

Rather than blush or falter, he straightened his back, puffed his chest, and soaked in the hollow praise like it was life-giving sunlight.

He even bent forward in an exaggerated bow, one hand pressed against his chest, the other extended as if receiving a medal.

"Thank you, thank you. Truly, I do deserve such praise. Don't stop now, people, your claps only fuel my already monstrous ego. Hehehe…"

His dumb, self-satisfied grin was so insufferable that Celeste had to physically turn her head away, refusing to grace him with even a shred of acknowledgment.

It was Zyon who broke the flow, his tone carrying a faint edge of concern. "Celeste… when did you become friends with Mia?"

Celeste blinked once, then shrugged with a lightness that seemed deliberately casual. "Just today. We talked for a bit and, surprise, surprise, turns out we had a lot in common. That's all there is to it. Besides…"

Her lips curved in a small smile, eyes glancing toward the table, "…it's not something to get worked up over. Mia's eating now, and that alone is worth more than anything else."

Zyon froze. For a brief moment, her words didn't fully register. But when they did, realization struck hard. He had been so focused on Celeste's sudden involvement with Mia and Verena that he had missed the most obvious and most important detail of all—Mia was eating.

Because of her grief, because of the hollow void Cassius's death had left behind, she hadn't touched food for days. She had starved herself quietly, and all of them had been helpless to drag her back.

But now… now she was eating. Her frail body hunched over a plate, her hands moving with almost desperate eagerness, her lips trembling as though she feared the food would vanish if she didn't devour it fast enough.

That sight alone should have been celebrated. That sight was nothing less than a miracle.

"Ah…" Zyon scratched the back of his neck, sheepishness tugging at his features. "Sorry. I was just… surprised, that's all. You're right, Celeste. It really is a good thing. More than good. It's… it's a relief that Mia finally started eating."

Mia, oblivious to the whispers around her, was lost in her own little world, fully devoted to the food on her plate. Every bite seemed to pull her deeper, grounding her, reminding her body and soul that she was still here, still alive.

"Let her have her time," Verena murmured, her voice heavy, carrying both tenderness and guilt. Her gaze lingered on Mia's fragile frame, and though her lips pressed into a faint smile, her eyes betrayed her.

Worry, regret, even remorse bled through her expression. "She's too damn hungry… and honestly, it's fortunate she is. That little body of hers deserves every scrap of nourishment it can get."

But even as she spoke, Verena couldn't quite meet Mia's eyes.

Zyon caught all of it. He noticed the guilt weighing on Verena, the avoidance in her glance, but he made the conscious choice to keep silent. Prying into that wound right now would help no one.

Instead, he cleared his throat, his voice firm as he redirected the group's focus. "Alright, everyone. We should freshen up and get the campfire started. We've got extra members with us tonight, and hopefully…"

His eyes cut toward Celeste for a brief second, the words dragging with unspoken weight, "…hopefully things will go smoothly."

Celeste smirked at the pointed look, an amused little curl tugging at her lips, but she said nothing. She didn't need to.

…

An hour later, the camp had shifted into something almost cozy. Everyone had freshened up, the air smelled faintly of smoke and roasted meat, and the fire crackled in the center of their little circle, throwing sparks into the dark sky. This time, even Mia and Verena had joined them.

Mia, of course, didn't speak a word to the rest. She sat quietly, almost withdrawn, but her mere presence was something to be grateful for. For her, just showing up and sharing the fire was progress.

For them, it was a blessing. In the near future, battles would be inevitable, and Mia, as a healer, wasn't just valuable; she was indispensable.

Getting her used to being part of the group again wasn't just sentimental, it was tactical. Every inch closer she came to them, every word she spoke, was a step toward survival.

But tonight… all of that was overshadowed by the single most mind-boggling, headache-inducing sight of the evening:

Art and Lilith.

Sitting. Together.

The rest of the group couldn't help but keep stealing glances, some subtle, some not even trying to be subtle. Because what they were seeing was not normal. Not in the slightest.

Art was being affectionate. Painfully affectionate. His arm draped around Lilith's shoulders, his hand casually threading through her hair, his chin resting against her. He looked like a man hugging the love of his life.

And Lilith? Lilith looked like she'd rather be roasted alive on the fire. Her eyes screamed, help me, her lips pressed tight as though praying for some divine intervention, and her posture was as stiff as a statue.

Yet Art didn't relent. Of course he didn't.

"C'mon, Lili," he drawled into her ear, his tone so damn smug that even the firewood might have considered slapping him. "You gotta hold your meat higher than that. Otherwise it won't cook properly. You'll just end up eating raw camel meat."

He leaned closer, his words practically brushing against her skin. "And you don't want raw meat, do you? Hmm~? No, no, you want it juicy, tender, perfect…"

Each syllable hit her nerves like jolts of electricity. Lilith, who had spent her entire childhood flirting, teasing, and expertly making others uncomfortable, was now trembling like a beginner caught in her own game.

Because that was her façade: she bullied, she teased, she pushed buttons… but deep down, she was embarrassingly easy to fluster.

And Art knew. Oh, he knew.

Sharing a childhood with him meant all her tricks were useless. He had the instruction manual to Lilith's weaknesses memorized, and right now he was running every single exploit at full throttle.

"Here, let me help you," he whispered again, even softer this time. He reached for her hand, the one holding the skewer of meat, and gently guided it higher over the flames.

His fingers brushed against her arm, deliberately slow, tracing her skin like he was drawing a spell. The combination of his words in her ear and his touch on her arm made her shrivel up like a salted slug.

Because Art wasn't just a playboy. He wasn't just a casual flirt. He was the playboy. A certified, world-renowned, platinum-ranked fuckboy. The number of girls he had slept with was so absurd it could probably be filed as its own census category.

And among his little circle of fellow degenerates, Art wasn't just respected—he was their damn guru. The guy they turned to for lessons on how to pick up girls.

And tonight, Lilith was his victim.

On the other side of the fire, Leon tilted his head toward Zyon, whispering. "Oi, Zyon… be honest. Did these two have a thing going on before? Or did I just accidentally play cupid?"

Zyon didn't even blink. He smirked, shaking his head. "Nah. He's just screwing with her. Lilith gets embarrassed way too easily, and that bastard knows it. He's just trying to get on her."

Leon raised a brow, grinning like a teenage girl who had just discovered the words romance and sex at the same time. "So… you mean he's trying to get 'on' her? Or 'in' her?"

Zyon's palm immediately ran down his face, dragging his features with all the weight of his exasperation. "For fuck's sake…"

Seriously. How? How did he end up surrounded by people like this? They were all above twenty years old. They'd fought, bled, and faced death together.

And yet here they were, acting like goddamn middle schoolers gossiping over who liked who. He couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or strangle them.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the circle, the holy trinity of gossip, Celeste, Freya, and Amelia, were huddled together.

Celeste, naturally, was the first to stir the pot. She leaned forward, voice dripping with feigned curiosity. "So, what? Did this guy just switch targets overnight? One minute I indirectly call him out for going after Evelyn, and now he's all over Lilith? Damn. I knew he was a playboy, but still, DAMN!"

Freya's face contorted like she had just bitten into something sour. "Ugh. I don't get it. How do girls fall for boys like him? Even if he's my friend, this kind of behavior is straight-up unforgivable to me."

Amelia chuckled, shaking her head. "You want the truth?" She didn't even wait for their nods. "He's tall. He's handsome. He's rich. He's strong. And, oh right, he just happens to be the future king of Alaris. Now… which one of those qualities isn't attractive?"