The manga includes bonus novels from the author at the end of volume/tankoubon releases. Here's my translation of a novel from Volume 1. I'm thinking about translating others but haven't started yet.
NTREVENGE Episode 0: The Beginning
The siren of a passing patrol car faded into the distance, leaving behind the Doppler effect. One turn away from the glitzy entertainment district lay a back alley reeking of stagnation. A fat, overfed rat scurried past stacked liquor crates as neon lights reflected in oily puddles leftover from the evening rain, casting garish colors resembling the caked makeup of aging hostesses.
"Goddammit!"
A man slammed a door angrily as he emerged from the back entrance of a rundown building. Dressed in a tacky red shirt and white suit, his gold necklace glinted ostentatiously. Though decent-looking, his cheek was swollen red, as if from a brawl.
"That little brat’s got some nerve!" he spat, lighting a cigarette with trembling fingers. Sparks scattered in the dark alley, briefly illuminating his bitter expression.
"...You."
A woman’s voice suddenly whispered by his ear, making him jolt. He looked up to find a completely naked girl standing before him.
(A foreigner? The hell — where’d she come from? No one was here a second ago...)
Her appearance was nothing like a Japanese girl. She looked around 17 or 18, with long platinum-blond hair and mismatched eyes. Her skin was porcelain-pale, her waist slim despite her curvaceous figure. She studied him head to toe with a curious gaze, then tilted her head like a child.
"Where is this?"
"Wha—? More like, who the fuck are you? You ain’t hookin’ here, right?"
He eyed her warily. Not that he disliked naked women, but this was way too weird. Plus, she showed zero embarrassment.
(Doesn’t look like she escaped from one of the clubs...)
This was a red-light district packed with shady businesses. Even with the cops cracking down lately, plenty of illegal joints still operated here. But if she’d fled from a trafficker, she wouldn’t be this calm.
"Sigh... Surface men are always like this. Answering a question with another question — how crude and unchanging. Nevermind."
She shrugged dismissively, locking eyes with him.
"Guh!?"
His heart lurched violently. His diaphragm spasmed, forcing air from his lungs as his cigarette tumbled into a puddle with a sizzle. He staggered back against the wall, unable to look away.
(What the?! What’s happening to me?!)
His pulse roared in his ears, blood rushing so fast his head spun.
"Let’s skip the hassle and ask your body directly."
The girl pressed her body against him with a seductive sway, sliding her fingers over his crotch through his pants. Where her fingertips touched, it felt like fire had been set ablaze. Despite the terror freezing his spine, his heated crotch stiffened and stood rigid.
"Ugh... hnn..."
He couldn't even move a finger to resist. His entire body tensed, barely able to let out a moan. Ignoring his state, the girl unzipped his pants, pulled out his member, and began stroking it without restraint.
"My, my, what a cute little thing you’ve got here. This pathetic size would never satisfy a woman. How pitiful."
She brought her face close to his, mocking him. But his fear overpowered any frustration at being ridiculed.
"H... help..."
"No can do♡"
She grinned brightly, turning her backside toward him.
"Look. Over here."
As she spread the slit between her thighs with her fingers, he grabbed her slender white waist with trembling hands, unable to resist.
"Now, enjoy yourself to your heart's content."
"S-stop..."
It wasn’t that he lacked confidence in bed — he’d slept with plenty of women. But his instincts screamed: This is bad. Don’t do this. Even as he desperately fought, his body betrayed him. His hips thrust forward helplessly. As his member sank deeper into her depths, he felt like prey being devoured.
"Mmm... ahhn!"
Her sultry moans slithered into his ears, scrambling his thoughts. The wet friction of her folds against him sent electric jolts of pleasure stabbing through his brain.
"Ghh! Ah! Ahhh!"
Thought dissolved into pure reflex. Roaring like a beast, he began thrusting violently into her.
"Ah! Ah! Yes! Just like that—ah! Ah! Ahn!"
In the darkness, pale flesh bounced wildly. Lewd wet sounds and the girl’s moans echoed through the alleyway, rising like phantom footsteps up the exposed emergency staircase. Yet as his hips grew frantic, the man’s ragged breaths grew weaker.
"Ahhn... ah... ah... It’s almost time"
"Guh!"
The moment she declared it, his body stiffened. Spurt after spurt shot into her as his frame withered like a deflating balloon. By the time the last drop was squeezed out, he collapsed into a pitiful heap of skin and bones.
"Haaah... This barely even counts as a snack"
The girl glanced down at the corpse she’d just coupled with and shrugged.
The girl's name was Asmode.
She was the demon who governed one of the Seven Deadly Sins: Lust.
Was being the key word — because now, she barely retained a fraction of that power.
Driven out of her position as a pillar of the Seven Deadly Sins by her underlings, she had narrowly escaped to the mortal realm. Sure, it was a cheap ambush, but demons don’t bother with notions like cowardice or "fair play". Still, letting herself be disrespected wasn’t exactly her style, either.
First, she needed to regain her lost strength. She’d just drained a man of every drop of his vitality, but the magic she recovered was a pittance. Let’s be clear — she wasn’t some lowly succubus, satisfied with nibbling scraps of energy.
"I need a contractor after all"
The most efficient way to harvest magic was through the extraction of concepts. Lewd acts, obscene scenarios, the anguish of resisting desire, the agony of a stolen lover, rage, sorrow, the guilty thrill of betrayal, despair, the ecstasy of submission — a whirlwind feast of lust. She aimed to create those circumstances for her contractor, to feast on that very concept.
Asmode rested a finger on her chin, pondering.
(Now then... where to start looking?)
Not just anyone would do. A young man — specifically, one brimming with vengeance — would be ideal. Vengeance warps morals. By skillfully guiding that hatred, she could enslave countless women. That would provide a steady stream of energy.
She’d already devoured every shred of the man’s memories. According to them, in the mortal realm, Asmode looked to be around high school age.
(Then the so-called “high school” seems like the perfect place for a hunt.)
Using the man’s memories, she conjured a school uniform with her magic and slipped into it. The school his sister attended was quite far, but physical distance meant little to a demon.
(Hmm... Let’s hope I find someone suitable there.)
