Seo Yuna
Seoul — a city where neon doesn't so much shine as it masks what rots in the shadows.
Nine million people, each chasing their own goals — some noble, others evil.
Corrupt officials, thieves, murderers, rapists... you can find every kind of scum across the city, from the mansions of Gangnam-gu to the poorer, outlying districts like Eunpyeong-gu.
But that's only the humans. There's a missing variable in this equation — us, the vampires.
From the top of the Trade Tower, almost brushing the stars in Gangnam-gu — one of the few places where I can still think.
Down below, people move like hurried ants.
From here, everything looks simpler. No chaos. No blood.
Beyond the daily human dramas, millions of destinies intersect in tiny actions — each one capable of changing a stranger's life completely.
One of the few things all clans agree on is simple: the less human society knows, the better.
The less we interfere in the human world, the slimmer our chances of being discovered — the easier it is to remain invisible.
However, as time passes, population grows and infrastructure advances.
Remaining completely hidden from humanity has become an impossible task.
"I think some vampires have acted out of self-interest, putting everything at risk."
The wind picked up. The city shifted it's tone, and I felt the same.
"Well, I think it's time to go — it'll rain soon." I headed down to the street to walk home among the people — something I liked to do.
In practice, that pact was just a thinly veiled imposition. A power play where each side pretended to win when, in truth, everyone only wanted to avoid more blood and scandal.
We possess strength and speed far beyond an athletic human, and our senses are razor-sharp. They should fear us more than we fear them.
"It's always fascinating to watch them — such weak creatures, yet so intense and alive."
That contrast runs through all of Seoul: on the same sidewalk, a woman with a designer bag passes a homeless man with nothing to eat.
Not unlike human society, some marginalized vampire clans drifted away.
They lacked structure and numbers. In case of attack, they would be easily wiped out by larger clans. It made no sense for them to expose.
Their intention was to keep quiet, staying out of trouble.
Some even felt more human than vampire.
An absurdity... or perhaps a weakness.
"The night hid surprises, masked by cloudy skies and abundant shadows."
There's something strange in the air...
Being, in a way, a silent war, some stretches pass with no major incidents — and it's in those quiet stretches that I grow most suspicious that something bigger is coming.
And I hate being taken by surprise.
This needs to be investigated quietly, but everything remains murky.
If something is happening, they're hiding it well.
I won't stop until I'm a hundred percent sure there's nothing being kept from us — or until I uncover something I can act on.
The rain began to fall, thin and lazy. Each drop reflected the blue of the signs, as if the sky itself bled neon.
I belong to the Seo clan, one of the largest at the Great Table.
It's composed of four other clans: Lee (our greatest enemy), Kim, Park and Choi.
Tension always simmers among the clans, and it spikes when the biannual Night Council meets — an archaic ritual.
The great leaders insist on keeping the council despite frayed nerves and the ever-present threat of attack.
Meetings used to be annual, but in recent decades clan tensions and inter-clan attacks have risen, so they moved to a biannual schedule to try to contain tempers.
"Hmm, the air feels different today. I think I'll take a different route home..." I said aloud, feigning innocence.
Across centuries, vampires have sacrificed and adapted.
We learned to live among humans — under sun and moon.
Disguised in the crowd — shadows with human faces.
Very few can reliably unmask those who truly try to hide; they become invaluable and charge exorbitant prices for isolated jobs or to align themselves with a clan.
They're called Unveilers — those who strip away the veil between vampire and human. It's estimated there's one Unveiler per thousand vampires.
When a clan announces a pact with an Unveiler, it's almost certain something is about to happen — or has already happened.
Everyone goes on high alert, and whoever plots, doubles their precautions.
The vampire population dwindles with each century.
Many refuse to continue this bloody war; others consider themselves cursed and won't perpetuate the line.
There were chiefs who sought to bloat their clans, using many as test subjects or pawns in future actions against rivals — expendable soldiers.
Over time, and with some humanizing influences, vampires began to form romantic bonds — or arranged pairings — to produce powerful offspring, favoring quality over quantity; nobody wanted to breed pawns to be thrown away.
Pleasure-driven liaisons, however, never died out — if anything, they intensified.
With less territory to roam, maintaining a large population became impossible.
Each clan has a formally defined, egalitarian hierarchy, but secretly there may be variations — sometimes used during war to confuse rivals. Still, it's agreed that any proven breach of the rules results in sacrifice.
"This part of town is quiet, almost lifeless... perfect."
"The emptier, the better."
I was chosen to be an Heir.
To be the chosen child to inherit the clan someday — a process that can take years, decades... or centuries.
There isn't necessarily only one heir at a time, but one will naturally assume leadership later on.
An heir is trained from an early age to lead, whether they want to or not.
Anyone who wants to change the vampire-clan system — for better or worse — must first become an heir.
Vampire children are tested and observed by the Patriarch or Matriarch.
Those who show strength and potential are moved forward, shaped into something greater.
That's what happened to me — at least, that's what they say.
Sometimes I wonder why I was chosen, though I don't doubt my abilities.
I've worked hard to become as strong as I could for my clan, and there may be things I still can't see.
Though rampant breeding has ended, smaller, poorer clans tend to raise stronger children; these are often taken in by larger clans — sometimes sold by desperate parents, or taken by force from those who refuse to surrender them.
They end up with no options, trampled by the strong.
I have no idea which clan I was born into; what matters is I was forged in the Seo clan, and that's what counts.
Tomorrow is crucial: the Night Council. Tempers are raw everywhere, and I can only hope nothing catastrophic happens.
This transparency is part of the treaty between the clans, sealed centuries ago.
I need to prepare for any unexpected turn, especially after the meeting ends — that's when attacks usually occur.
Vampires don't sleep, but they do grow weary after days without rest.
I'll need every ounce of strength for any threat. Still, the odd smell in Seoul's air robs me of peace.
All clans are extremely cautious, making slip-ups rare and clues hard to find.
I tried to think like someone intent on plotting: how, where, when could they act? After drifting through countless city corners, I found no trace.
Part of me wants to believe there's nothing going on behind the scenes. But my instinct says otherwise.
Maybe that's what sets me apart — others are calm — or my paranoia deceives me, and showing it would be weakness.
Every action, however small, can say a lot about you; even inaction is an action that can be read in many layers, depending on who watches.
Leaving the Trade Tower confirmed it.
I purposely strayed from my usual route home and kept away from crowds and light.
"All I have to do now is wait." I said aloud on purpose.
I walked through a half-abandoned suburb near the Han River, waiting for the right moment.
I remembered an entrance to an unfinished subway tunnel.
As soon as I crossed the tunnel mouth I decided: now is the time.
This place is frequented by drug users and other lost souls — isolated, dark, silent.
"The best plan is to go home and wait..." I said again, stretching as if genuinely careless.
"Or maybe..."
Before I finished, I moved swiftly into the dark entrance.
He really thought I hadn't noticed.
He had no chance to react against my speed and experience.
My hands dug into his shoulders before he could breathe.
The dry crack echoed off the cold walls.
— You have three seconds. Speak. Who sent you to watch me?
He tried to break free and failed; I began the count.
— Three — I whispered.
— Aishh, let go of me — the boy grunted, face twisted.
— Two. — I set my nails to his throat, expression cold and flat.
— O-okay... the Patriarch sent me. He said you were acting strange.
He wanted to be certain nothing was wrong.
I dug my nails into his neck, pressing lightly.
— Why should I believe you?
— He wasn't lying. — came a voice deeper in the tunnel; a man stepping out from the shadows, completely hidden even from me.
He'd used the kid as a shield and a distraction.
From the absolute dark, a familiar presence: cold. Calculated. Seo Jun.
One of the Night Generals of the Seo clan.
Seeing it was Jun's doing, I released the boy.
— What's your name, kid? — I asked, sizing him up.
He bowed his head in respect.
— Se-Seo Jin-hwan, Ms. Yu-na..." he stammered, curled inward.
For a moment I saw in his eyes the same fear I once felt — before I learned to hide it.
— I see. They sent a novice to watch me, and a veteran to watch the novice.
— But why the hell send someone after me? — I huffed.
Jun bowed slightly as he approached.
— You know how the Patriarch is. He's being cautious... after everything he's faced.
— After everything I've done for this clan... being watched is an affront. By a child, no less.
— I'll speak with the Patriarch tomorrow about this.
— It was a test. He wants to become a hunter and asked for a real challenge.
— He needs a lot of work — he's weak, easily detected. I didn't deal with him earlier because I wanted to see how far he'd go.
The boy got sad.
— You heard her, kid. Train harder.
— Y-yes, Miss Yu-na... forgive me.
— If you're done with the little theater and got what you needed, I have other matters.
— It was my pleasure. — Jun said with an irritating smile.
It's remarkable how these meetings throw everyone off balance. Anyway — time to prepare for the Council, but without letting my guard down.
The rain intensified.
Distrust weighed heavier than the drops running down my face.
After everything I've done for this clan, being watched felt almost like a personal insult.
It's over now. I can't let it pull me from what truly matters.
Tomorrow I will be officially acknowledged as Heir.
And if my clan's future isn't prosperous... I will shape it with blood.