Evan looked down at his hand.
The dark red blood that had splashed onto it when he smashed the Female Assistant with a stone was burning harmlessly on his skin.
The flames burned only the tainted blood. They did not hurt him at all.
When the flames died, they had not left even the faintest burn on his skin.
A few seconds later, nothing remained on the ground.
Only a patch of gray-white ash drifted slowly away in the night breeze.
"Solar Holy Water. Just three drops! Satisfying, right?"
Evan nodded instinctively and handed the bottle back.
Richard took it, screwed the cap tight, and tucked the precious little bottle into an inner pocket.
"From the Healing Church. Made specifically to deal with the Bloodthirsty Species."
He sounded as casual as if he were talking about a bottle of beer.
Evan's eyes widened.
A few drops of liquid had erased every trace of the Female Assistant—the one who had refused to die and shrugged off the Tuning Fork's attacks like tickles.
"That's... it?"
Evan felt as though he were dreaming.
Richard grinned and bent down, apparently looking for something.
"At its heart, Beyonder combat is rock-paper-scissors. Find your opponent's weakness, use the right tool, and you can kill them in one blow."
"That's why the Beyonder is so closely tied to mystery. Once the mystery is gone, so is the power to intimidate."
"So remember this, junior! Keep your secrets. Don't show off your core abilities carelessly!"
Evan nodded solemnly. "Thank you for the advice."
Richard laughed heartily. "It's nothing grand. Just speaking from experience."
"Oh! Found it! Let's head home. You can tell me roughly what happened along the way."
As he spoke, he picked something black and sweet-potato-shaped out of the ash.
Except it gave off heat and seemed to still be beating.
"What's that...?" Evan asked curiously.
Richard handed it to him. "That's the Bloodthirsty Species' Beyonder Characteristic. You can refine it into a Magic Potion to advance a related Bloodthirsty Species characteristic."
"Or you can sell it. It's your spoils."
Evan took the pulsing lump of flesh and decided to deal with it later.
"Then stay at my place tonight."
"It's pretty big."
Lighthouse Hill, Vernon Hill Street.
The broad cobblestone street was neat and spotless. Night-shift cleaners had swept it so thoroughly that not even a fallen leaf remained.
Trees lined both sides of the road. Rows of elegant white detached villas stood in order, each with a spacious lawn and a large yard enclosed by wrought-iron fencing.
The electric streetlamps bathed the entire street in a soft orange glow.
This was the true heart of Bolton City's high society.
Anyone with an address on this street was either rich or powerful.
Councilors, judges, prominent lawyers, great nobles... this was where Bolton City's old money gathered.
Number 1012. Hurst Manor.
Soft light filled a spacious, luxurious bedroom on the second floor.
Eldin stood before a full-length mirror in a silk dressing gown.
She was carefully choosing what to wear to the American football game the day after tomorrow.
Three options lay across the bed: a deep-purple velvet coat with a beige plaid skirt, an olive-green wool riding outfit, and a short burgundy jacket with a white mink collar.
She lightly brushed the fur on the mink collar, brows faintly furrowed as she weighed which outfit would suit Sunday's weather.
At that moment,
the shadow on the Persian Carpet beneath her feet began to churn in defiance of physics.
It looked like a pot of black liquid suddenly brought to a boil.
The next second, a head emerged from the roiling shadow.
It was Pulis, bedraggled and utterly stripped of his usual easy elegance.
His face was deathly pale. Wounds that had not fully healed still covered half of it, and his shattered cheekbone seemed to be knitting itself back together beneath the skin.
His hair, normally combed straight back without a strand out of place, clung messily to his forehead.
"Teacher!"
Eldin turned, her pupils contracting sharply.
She knew at once that something was wrong.
The teacher who was usually as composed as a statue now looked like a drowning man struggling to crawl out of a bog.
Pulis raised his head, looked at her, and forced a strained smile.
"My child. My Eldin."
His voice was far weaker than usual. Every word seemed squeezed from ruined lungs.
"I failed."
"Those lowlife Demon Hunters ruined my plan. Arkham completed his transformation. The plan to refine him into a potion is finished."
Eldin's eyes widened.
She could not help crying out.
"How is that possible? Didn't we have the Prophet divine the outcome?"
"As long as I stopped him from sending the invitation and made him miss the tram, the plan was certain to succeed!"
Pulis ground his teeth. "There's something wrong with that Prophet! I underestimated Sapp's hold over me..."
He paused. His voice began to tremble with mounting urgency.
"I'm out of time, child."
"I broke my contract with Sapp. He won't pass up a chance to drink my blood and eat my flesh."
A viciousness she had never heard before suddenly entered his voice.
"I will not hand the Beyonder Characteristic of the Batrus Family's Kelin Branch over to those capitalists."
With that, he thrust out his right hand. His five fingers pierced his chest like blades.
The sound of tearing flesh rang out with horrifying clarity in the quiet bedroom.
His hand plunged deep into his chest, seized his still-thrashing heart, and ripped it out.
The heart beat in his pale palm, spraying thin threads of dark red blood with every pulse.
"Eldin, I'm giving this to you..."
Before he could finish,
something invisible seemed to yank Pulis sharply downward, dragging him into the depths of the shadow.
Terror and desperation swept over his face. He reached frantically toward Eldin.
"Eldin!!! Take it!!"
He roared with all his strength.
Eldin lunged, but an invisible force field, like a wall of cold glass, stopped her at the edge of the carpet.
Her outstretched fingers were less than five centimeters from the heart in Pulis's palm.
But those five centimeters might as well have been the entire Atlantic Ocean.
"Interfering with a Judge's seizure of a criminal's assets is a crime."
A cold, abrupt voice sounded in both their ears.
It had neither gender nor emotion, as though it came directly from the pages of some Code.
The next second,
the shadow swallowed Pulis whole.
Before he vanished, he could no longer make a sound.
His mouth still opened and closed, and his eyes remained fixed on Eldin.
But his throat, vocal cords, lungs—every organ that could produce a sound—had been forcibly taken from him by some outside power.
The hand reaching for Eldin, the still-beating heart, and Pulis himself were all swallowed by the abyss of shadow.
The carpet lay flat once more.
Silence returned to the bedroom, broken only by the soft crackle of logs in the fireplace.
Eldin knelt motionless on the carpet, staring for several seconds.
Her dark eyes began to change, slowly, ever so slowly.
Crimson seeped into her irises, spreading outward from her pupils like ink dropped into clear water.
Her hands tightened into fists. Her nails dug into her palms, and blood dripped between her fingers onto the Persian Carpet.
A fang abruptly lengthened, lifting her upper lip.
"Teacher."
Her voice was soft, but every word sounded ground out from deep in her throat.
"Rest assured."
"I will fulfill your wish and the hope of the Vampire Race!"
She had understood the message her teacher had mouthed to her at the end.
"Our resistance failed. They're certain to lower their guard around you."
"Hope still lies with Arkham. Don't try to force him again. He has other secrets!"
"He is not your enemy. He is an important ally, a blade to strike at the capitalists, perhaps even the father of your future child."
"I leave the task of saving the Queen to you!"
As Eldin recalled her teacher's final words, she clenched her fists. Her elegant, beautiful face was set with unwavering resolve.
"Teacher, may you return to the True Ancestor's embrace!"
"Arkham... he's just a bumpkin who stumbled into good fortune."
"With my beauty and wits, how could I fail to win you over!?"