The Tailor Who Makes the Blood Butcher Tremble
With a soft, smooth scrape.
A cold yellow ruler slid across her blazing bare skin.
The thick, metallic scent of blood stabbed straight into my nostrils.
From the corner of the room, where a colossal scythe leaned at a careless angle, fresh drops of crimson still fell in slow, heavy plinks.
Standing before me was Illusia, the First Corps Commander of the Demon King’s Army—the forces that had stained half the continent red with blood.
“You crazy woman, please stop that killing intent right now. My hand is shaking so badly I might cut your throat off.”
My mind screamed for me to drop to the floor and beg for mercy, but I forced my lips into the most arrogant, icy smile from my previous life as a senior fashion designer who had survived even the most terrifying clients.
“Breathe in… and hold it.”
“…hic…”
At my dry command, Illusia’s shoulders jerked as if struck.
Right beneath her chest, pressed flush against the hot skin just above the dark bruise of a fresh bruise, I slid the ruler taut.
Her skin, burning as if scalded, contacted the metal.
‘Why is she trembling like this? Did I really make her this angry by touching bare skin? Is she about to decapitate me right now?’
Cold sweat poured down my spine in waterfalls.
Part of me wanted to bolt, but if the ruler slipped and my measurements were wrong, my blood supply would collapse.
And if my clothes failed to function, my own life would end too.
“When the ribcage expands, the measurements will change. Relax your strength.”
I lowered my voice as much as possible and spoke with firm resolve.
And then the impossible happened.
The continent’s greatest killer—the one who had once been ready to slit my throat—bit her lower lip until it turned white, forcing herself to swallow the beastly groans that escaped her.
Her pale earlobes flushed a deep, dangerous crimson, as if they might burst.
Her crimson eyes swirled with an unreadable storm of killing intent or sheer bewilderment as she stared down at me.
‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s none of my concern. I just need to craft the perfect clothes.’
I kept my gaze averted and pressed the pre-cut black functional fabric tight against her body.
Stretchy, breathable activewear that replaced heavy steel armor, freeing her ribcage while hugging every muscle like a second skin.
I stepped behind her and gripped the waistband at her back.
And pulled it tight to lock the blood flow.
“Hiss…!”
At the same instant, the air inside the room seemed to shatter.
The insane aura that had been crushed inside her brutal steel body exploded outward the moment the clothes clung perfectly to her skin.
Illusia panted heavily, one hand slamming against the floor.
A helpless surge of power’s raw ecstasy spread across her face, which had flushed bright red with humiliation.
I forced strength into my shaking legs and stood straight once more.
Then I dropped to the floor to examine the monster’s expression up close.
‘I survived.’
Surviving in this savage, insane world meant becoming the most arrogant and shameless tailor on the continent.