The ground rumbled.
Not from footsteps. Not from machines. But from something deeper—ancient and wrong.
Ethan stood among the crowd, his new hoodie pulled low over his face, hands tucked in his pockets. He was quiet. Observant. His enhanced senses buzzed—not with voices calling his name, but with something else. Whispers in the dark. A hunger coiling through the shadows like smoke.
Beside him, Alina Veyre grumbled under her breath, cleaning one of her pistol-like weapons with rhythmic efficiency.
"These hunters couldn't shoot a shadow if it bit them first," she muttered.
Her voice was calm, but her eyes flicked around—sharp, calculating.
Then came the sound.
Movement.
A blur in the corner of his vision. Fast. No time to react. A scream—short and sharp—cut the tension.
Blood sprayed across Ethan's arm as the hunter beside him crumpled.
Fangs. Teeth. Claws.
The creature's face twisted in mindless hunger, biting deeper into the corpse.
Vampires.
More dropped from the walls—dozens—cloaked in torn uniforms and moonlight. Chaos followed like a storm.
Ethan didn't move.
They rushed past him like he wasn't there. But he knew why.
They smell like me.
That same ancient rot. That same night-slick instinct.
But something was off. Ethan could sense it. He wasn't one of them—not fully.
One of the mindless vampires turned its head toward him. It leaped.
Claws aimed for his throat.
BOOM.
Its skull exploded mid-air.
Alina stood, smoke spiraling from her barrel. "You looked like you needed a second," she said, pivoting.
Then she moved—
Backflip. Kick. Shot. Reload. Dive.
Like water through gunfire. Bullets tore through vampire limbs, but they twitched and reformed—regenerating.
"Shit," she hissed, dropping a magazine and slamming in a fresh one. She ducked under a clawed arm, vaulted off a wall, and shot one in the spine.
But it kept crawling.
From behind, Karn entered the scene like thunder. His axe split the ground and vampire alike. One blow tore through three. He fought with control, eyes scanning for threats, not glory.
Healers rushed to drag the injured back—torn limbs, shredded armor. One crouched by a fallen hunter, hands glowing green as she cast a restoration spell.
Nothing happened.
The man's wounds remained raw. He began to twitch.
His skin paled. His teeth grew longer. His eyes...
Blood-red.
The healer gasped. He lunged for her.
SWISH.
His head flew clean off.
The body collapsed, still twitching.
From behind stood a tall man—calm, unreadable. Dark coat. Blade in hand. Not a drop of blood on him.
He turned slightly, revealing a face carved from marble—sharp, handsome, inhumanly symmetrical.
"You alright?" he asked the Healer.
She nodded, dazed.
Then his voice rang like steel.
"Cut off their heads. That's the only way to stop them."
Hunters froze. Then they understood.
And the battle began again—with purpose.
Karn's eyes glowed a violent gold in the dark, signaling the telepathic connection snapping open like a pulled wire.
"Ren, we're under attack."
Ren's hand stilled over the map. "What is it?"
"Humanoid. Pale skin. Regeneration. Fast. But they burn easily…"
Far from the command group, Ethan moved with precision. He pulled his twin daggers from the dimensional space in a flash of cold steel. The air shifted—he didn't hesitate. One of the creatures lunged at a hunter, fangs bared, its hands more claw than flesh.
A clean stab to the temple. The thing froze, then crumbled.
[You have slain: Lesser Vampire]
[+10 XP]
[Current XP: 230/500]
[Note: Vampires are highly regenerative. Only beheading or full incineration ensures a kill.]
Another vampire darted through the trees, but Ethan was faster. His blade curved upward, slicing it in half at the waist. Blood sprayed, black and steaming in the night air.
Hunters screamed, guns fired, but most of the creatures didn't go down. They healed, twisted, growled through bullets. Alina backflipped between crates, her pistols barking sharp rhythm. She kicked one vampire in the chest, flipped over him, and shot him in the eye as he turned.
But even she paused.
Ethan stood, soaked in gore, his hood flung back, blood on his cheeks like war paint. His expression was cold—almost serene.
Another kill.
Behind him, a hunter cried out. A vampire had bitten deep into his arm.
Ethan didn't think.
He turned. A flash of silver. The man's forearm hit the ground before his scream did.
Alina's eyes widened.
Ethan spun and stabbed the attacking vampire through the jaw—blade out the back of its skull.
[+10 XP]
[Current XP: 250/500]
In the trees, a single figure watched—taller, sharper eyes, something almost human behind them.
"...Why is he attacking us?"
[+10 XP]
[Current XP: 240/500]
[Warning: XP gain suspended – kill repetition detected. Target class: Low-tier Vampiric.]
Alina stormed toward him, her boots grinding into the blood-soaked dirt. She didn't slow down—just stepped up and slugged Ethan hard across the chin.
He didn't even flinch. His head turned with the blow, but he stayed rooted, dripping in red from head to toe, his dual daggers still wet and gleaming at his sides. Blood—some of it not even dry—clung to his jaw, his chest, even his damn eyelashes.
"You cut off his f**king arm, Kid!" she screamed, eyes wide. "He is one of us! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
He turned back toward her slowly, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. His voice came low, tired, and sharp like cracked glass.
"What's wrong with me?" he said. "You saw him. That thing in him was waking up. I did what had to be done."
"You don't get to decide that! You're just a goddamn kid with a knife and a death wish!"
"Yeah?" Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Well guess what, sweetheart—I'm the reason his still breathing."
Her hand twitched toward her sidearm, but then Karn stepped in from behind. His eyes locked onto her, voice like a quiet storm.
"Back off, Alina. He's right."
She turned to Karn, fury boiling in her chest. "You too?! After what he just—"
"You want to talk about what's f**ked?" Karn snapped. "The guy wasn't healing. You saw it. We all did. Healing didn't do shit. And the kid—" he glanced at Ethan, still standing there like a blood-drenched statue, "—didn't even hesitate. That's the kind of crazy we need right now."
Alina sneered. "Crazy is right."
Ethan raised a brow, voice dropping to a growl.
"Say that again. Say it and watch what happens."
"Go ahead," she spat. "You gonna chop off my arm next?"
He smiled thinly. "Not unless you start foaming at the mouth."
Her eyes glowed faintly—her ability triggering again. Futures surged into her vision. Every path where she struck first ended in humiliation. Her ribcage shattered. Her pistol disarmed. One had her on her knees, blade at her throat.
She exhaled hard, jaw clenched, then turned away.
"F**k this," she muttered. "I don't lose to junkies."
But she noticed something too late—above Ethan's shoulders, floating like ghostly fangs, ten dark silver pins hovered in silent orbit, invisible to the naked eye. No visible strings. No sound. Only death.
The threads of mana connecting them shimmered in Ethan's eyes alone. His fingers twitched. The pins danced.
He didn't release them.
He didn't need to.
Everyone already knew—this kid wasn't right.
And right now, that made him the deadliest thing on the battlefield.