"My teeth!"
"That was an autonomous defensive force field. Your action was judged to be an attack."
Hoshino explained, "That wasn't a subjective judgment. Your actions really would have caused objective physical harm to Miss Lumen. Stop biting. Change the needle and try again."
Warfarin covered her mouth and nodded reluctantly.
She didn't dare try again.
What followed was the entire standard procedure—the boring routine examinations, blood tests, MRI scans. Warfarin was nearly bored enough to fall asleep.
"Miss, your constitution is very weak. You're the type who could die from a severe cold. Yet your blood vessels are surprisingly clean, and there are very few Originium particles in your blood."
"Mm."
Lumen nodded, unsurprised.
It was all thanks to her exceptionally meticulous self-protection.
"Ugh."
Warfarin looked rather bored. "There are barely any impurities in your blood. It's clean as can be, and tastes as bland as plain water. Go report to Human Resources. Don't worry about being attacked—I've lost interest in you already."
"Attacked?"
"Operators might suddenly pass out while walking down the hall, then wake up to find themselves tied to a bed with the sinister laughter of a vampire in their ears. That happens all the time. Miss Warfarin is merely conducting her blood experiments."
Hoshino explained.
"A vampire with morals is still a vampire."
"Then you're mistaken. I've never had anything like morals. Those of my kin who do have morals mostly drink things like motor oil and car coolant. I advise you not to provoke them. After playing defenders of righteousness for too long and suppressing themselves for too long, they may have gradually stopped being people altogether."
Warfarin waved her hand, then lowered her head and began writing the personnel report, her pen scratching across the paper.
An elegant, ancient vampire needed a fine