The Witch’s Convent

Hawthorne gradually regained consciousness. As soon as he woke up, he felt as if his head was splitting, as though he had a hangover.

"Strange, I didn't drink last night, and I went to bed quite early..."

He painfully opened his eyes and looked around. However, the environment he found himself in suddenly cleared his mind, leaving him with a look of astonishment.

"Where… am I?"

What came into view was a simple and even somewhat monotonous small room. The white walls and ceiling had not a single decoration, not even a light.

All the light in the room depended on the warm sunlight streaming in through the glass window beside him. He was lying on a large bed close to the window, covered with a yellow wool blanket that was soft and carried a faint fragrance.

For a moment, Hawthorne couldn't help but furrow his brow.

"No, I should be in the dormitory. How did I end up here?"

Feeling confused, he looked down, lifted the blanket, and prepared to get up and explore. He then discovered that he was wearing a light gray cotton nightgown, and his calves were pale and thin, far from those of an adult!

"This..."

With doubt, he lifted a bit of the nightgown and was then horrified to find that his lower body not only had no hair, but its size was also much smaller than it originally was!

"What's going on?!"

"This… this isn't my body!"

"Have I time-traveled?"

A huge sense of panic rose in his heart, and Hawthorne immediately got out of bed. Under the bed, on the wooden floor, there was a pair of not-so-big black leather slippers, beside which was a wooden bedside table with a mirror.

He slipped his feet into the shoes and then turned to look in the mirror.

And then he paused slightly, surprised.

"This..."

"I didn't expect it to be quite good-looking."

Reflected in the mirror was a boy about fifteen or sixteen years old, with white hair, blue eyes, and delicate skin. His features were exquisitely crafted, as if God himself had carefully sculpted them. Although there were still some childish traits in the contours of his face, it didn't seem out of place; instead, it might even stir some maternal instincts in women.

Or primal instincts.

"This..."

He couldn't help but reach out, pinching the skin on his face. As the soft sensation confirmed one thing: he had indeed time-traveled, but fortunately, his new body, though a bit thinner, was still a good-looking one.

"This should be a good start... right?"

He wasn't sure, and at that moment, accompanied by the creaking sound of the door opening, a figure pushed the door open and walked into his room.

Hawthorne hurriedly turned around, and immediately, he was left momentarily stunned.

"So... beautiful."

Entering from outside was a young nun. She had an angelically beautiful face, with sea-blue eyes like two precious gems. Long eyelashes hung above them, complemented by a delicate nose and thin but bright red lips, all emanating a captivating charm.

She was about170 centimeters tall, wearing a traditional, thick black nun's habit, with a silver cross hanging on her chest. However, even so, it could not hide her impressive and upright curves, which irresistibly drew Hawthorne's gaze!

The contrast between her ascetic attire and this sinful body shocked his nerves, and his body immediately reacted!

"Damn, isn't this body a bit too spirited!"

Hawthorne inwardly cursed. Fortunately, his nightgown was loose enough, so he only needed to bend slightly to cover his embarrassment.

Seeing his reaction, the nun couldn't help but smile, "It seems like you're recovering quite well."

As she said this, she slowly stepped forward to the foot of the bed, gently saying, "Come here."

Hawthorne studied her face. For some reason, he felt that the woman in front of him looked somewhat familiar.

However, when he tried to recall, a sudden sharp pain shot through his mind, and immediately, he could not continue any memories.

"Never mind, I'll think about it later."

He intended to follow her instructions, but suddenly, his body recoiled as if some fearful memory had been etched in his muscles, prompting an instinctive reaction.

Feeling an instinctual fear rising within him, he couldn't help but guess wildly: What's going on? Could it be that this seemingly gentle sister is actually a strict and smiling tiger-type character?

"Hiss—"

"Just go along with it!"

"Sorry, Sister… Miss, I may not be recovering as well…" he covered his head, speaking somewhat painfully, "I still have a bit of a headache, and I can't remember a lot of things…"

Then, putting on a sincere expression, he asked her, "May I ask who you are?"

The nun was taken aback, then suddenly understood, and her eyes filled with sadness, her tone heavy with regret: "I see, you've actually lost your memory…"

"That makes sense; after all, the fact that you're still alive is already a miracle..."

The sight of the beautiful woman in pain made Hawthorne feel a pang of heartache. He sighed internally, though unsure of the relationship between her and the original owner of this body, he knew that since he was here, he would take on his identity and live well.

"My name is Heidi, and your name is Nigel Hawthorne."

The nun put away her sorrowful expression and looked at him seriously: "Do you still remember these two names?"

Hawthorne?

The original owner of this body actually has the surname Hawthorne?

"Hmm... what a coincidence. But that's good; at least it saves me a lot of trouble."

Hawthorne felt a sense of relief in his heart, but the name "Heidi" caused a sharp pain in his head again. It felt very familiar, but he couldn't grasp any clues.

"It should be the original owner's memories... Never mind, this nun seems to be quite nice to me, so I should be able to trust her."

So, he relaxed his nerves and put on a pitiful expression, honestly replying, "It sounds very familiar, but... I really can't remember."

"Sister, is there anything else that can help me remember?"

In response, the nun's complexion slightly flushed upon hearing him speak, and she looked at him, biting her lower lip as if she had made some kind of resolution: "Such a pure body, it wouldn't hurt... It seems I'll just have to take care of it myself…"

"Sit on the bed and don't move. Just leave everything to me."

Hawthorne was stunned, thinking to himself, did she really just believe that? Is it really this easy to get away with it?

He did not understand what the original owner of this body had experienced, and for the time being, he could only obediently sit on the bed. Then, he saw the nun slowly walk in front of him, gently lowering her head until her forehead touched his brow, and her nose brushed against his.

"Relax your body," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of shyness, "Then, follow your will and use your hands… to explore my mysteries…"

Hawthorne was stunned; although her words were somewhat cryptic, he understood!

Is she saying that I can reach under her nun's habit and then… do whatever I want? 

This…

His heart was racing, yet his muscles were trembling. A deeper fear arose within him, making his body stiffen, nearly rendering him unable to move!

"No, if that's the case, why is this body so afraid?"

"This must be a trap; I absolutely cannot fall for it!"

He stood frozen in place, motionless. Seeing this, the nun paused for a few seconds and lightly sighed, "It seems it still won't work."

"Then I will have to take it a step further myself..."

As she spoke to herself, her complexion grew increasingly rosy, filled with the shyness of a young girl. She reached out, unbuttoning his nightgown one by one from top to bottom, and then extended her soft, delicate hands to caress his chest.

"Uh—!"

Feeling the delicate touch, Hawthorne's eyes widened instantly. Even though his body was swelling to the brink of bursting, an indescribable fear in his heart made him instinctively retreat backward onto the bed. "Miss Nun, is this… not a bit inappropriate…?"

He hadn't finished speaking when the nun suddenly pushed hard, catching him off guard and immediately knocking him down onto the bed!

She then followed him, leaning over his exposed chest, her face flushed like blood. With her cherry-like lips slightly parted, she gently whispered in his ear, "There's nothing wrong; I just want to make you comfortable…"

Hawthorne was stunned, "This—"

"Isn't she a nun? Why is she doing this?"

"What is the relationship between the original owner of this body and her?"

His mind was almost blank, and then he heard the nun softly say, "Your soul is too weak. I can't use magic on you, so I can only do this, with my hands..."

"I haven't tried this before, so I might be a bit inexperienced. If you feel uncomfortable, please be sure to tell me right away..."

As she said this, her soft little hand moved downward, quickly gliding over his abdomen and grasping his pajama pants, gently pulling them down—

"No…"

Hawthorne instinctively wanted to protect something, but clearly, in the face of reason, his body was incredibly honest!

The nun blushed, extending her finger and gently teasing it a couple of times. Immediately, the inner sense of morality and shame left Hawthorne feeling utterly humiliated, and in the end, he could only desperately cover his eyes, like an ostrich.

But avoidance is useless, and immediately, nun small hands grasped the deadly weapon, beginning to move it up and down. A strong electric current swept through his mind, stimulating his scalp to the point of tingling, as if countless small insects were crawling all over his body!

"It seems that we have a good start." Seeing his expression, nun said softly, and then her body started to explore downward. Hawthorne's fingers parted a gap, and looking down, he saw her squatting by the bed, gently opening her cherry little mouth—

"Ugh—!"

In the next moment, he gasped, the fear that had swept over him vanished completely, leaving only a strong, indescribable sense of comfort and relief!

At this moment, he was so excited that he felt like crying.

This feeling, this experience... had never happened before, never!

As this sentiment rose in his heart, he was left with no trace of fear, and even the headache had completely faded away; his thoughts were clear and unimpeded.

His body relaxed completely.

Enjoying the service of nun little mouth, feeling her exerting all her skills, clumsy but sincere in her service—

Nun suddenly slowly pulled away, raised her eyes, and looked at him with tension, shyness, and anticipation: "Do you feel comfortable?"

"Comfortable..." Hawthorne instinctively responded, feeling that the previous experience had brought him merely one step away from paradise.

"If you feel comfortable, that's good." nun smiled shyly, then slowly got up, and knelt back on the bed, looking down at his body, "Now, it's my turn to feel comfortable."

The next moment, her holy face suddenly split open, revealing a ghastly white interior filled with rows of sharp, hooked teeth. From within that crimson flesh, a terrifying giant mouth rapidly grew, resembling that of a lamprey!

At the same time, her nun's habit began to change rapidly, transformed in the blink of an eye into countless dark green, hideous tentacles with ugly suckers, thrashing wildly in the room!

Then, three dark green tentacles dove down simultaneously, plunging into his ears and mouth!

Hawthorne was taken aback, a strong sense of fear flooding back, accompanied by terrifying memories that resurfaced in that moment.

He remembered what he had been doing the night before, and he also remembered who this woman in front of him truly was!

He had been playing a game called "The Witch's Convent," in which he played a young priest, battling wits with seven witches hidden within the convent, creatures who fed on human souls and were essentially evil spirits.

And the nun in front of him was the first witch to be conquered in the game, a terrifying entity from the depths of the ocean, who enjoyed toying with human minds through illusions and devoured a part of their soul when they reached the brink of madness—the deep-sea witch, Heidi!

I can't believe I've traveled to the world of this game!

"Wuwu—"

He struggled to resist, but then two more tentacles lunged down, binding his arms and legs, rendering him unable to move!

Buzz buzz—

The tentacle that had entered his ear rubbed against his eardrum, while the one that had gone into his mouth pushed deep into his esophagus, burrowing all the way into his stomach. Soon after, these tentacles emitted a ghostly green light and began to devour his soul!

"Ugh—!"

In an instant, Hawthorne felt as though his soul was being torn apart. His head throbbed painfully, yet at that moment, he couldn't even let out a scream!

Help me—!

I don't want to die—

Someone, please come and save me—

His heart roared in despair, and just then, a synthetic female voice abruptly sounded in his mind:

"Transmigration phenomenon detected, system initializing…"

"Conducting host identity verification… Error, host body and soul do not match. Re-identifying with soul as the primary criterion…"

"Host soul identified as developer species, granting highest privileges…"

"Hello, host. The convent construction system is at your service."