The Smoke Baron studied the man before him carefully.
A smooth, bald head—no hair, no eyebrows.The pale complexion unique to vampires, paired with pitch-black eyes so deep they felt as if they could see straight through flesh and bone.
He wore a simple black shirt. The open collar revealed a powerful chest, dense muscle packed beneath the fabric. His build was solid, almost bulky—not lean, but unmistakably strong.
He was smiling.
Yet the pressure radiating from him made the air feel heavier.
This was not the arrogance of youth, nor the bluff of strength.It was the quiet authority of someone who had stood at the top for far too long.
Adam gently flicked his bleeding index finger.
A silent urge.
No more hesitation.
The Smoke Baron leaned forward, touched the blood with his upper lip, and drew it into his mouth.
The change was immediate.
His withered hands trembled violently as the veins beneath his skin bulged, swelling like living things. In an instant, the strength drained from his body, leaving him hollow.
Then came the pain.
Not a sharp pain—but something deeper.
Something that tore through marrow and soul alike.
A hoarse roar ripped from his throat as he collapsed to his knees. His fingers clenched instinctively, crushing the small wooden table beside him into flying splinters.
The next moment, his body curled in on itself, shrinking into a writhing mass on the floor.
It was similar to the pain of his last rebirth.
But this—
This was far worse.
So intense that dignity itself became a luxury he could no longer afford.
The roar echoed through the corridor.
The door burst open.
Vine charged in, only to freeze on the spot.
One man sat calmly in a chair, smiling as though watching a performance.The other rolled on the floor, howling in agony.
Vine's brows snapped together. Without hesitation, he drew the silver dagger hidden at his waist—the handle wrapped in black gauze.
"St—stop…"The Smoke Baron, teetering on the edge of madness, forced out the words. His shaking hand lifted weakly."Get… out…"
"But—"
"This… is an order!"
Vine hesitated, then clenched his teeth and retreated, shutting the door behind him.
Fifteen minutes passed.
For the Smoke Baron, it felt like a century.
Another fifteen minutes crawled by before the pain finally receded to something barely tolerable.
He did not stand.
Instead, he crawled forward and pressed his lips against Adam's boot.
The highest form of respect in this land.
His body felt empty—stripped of power—yet at the same time brimming with something deeper, purer.
This was the sign.
A vampire returning to infancy.
The result was undeniable.
"Great One," he said hoarsely, voice trembling with reverence."What would your servant have me do?"
He was no longer merely a second-generation vampire.
He was one of four in existence.
Perhaps the only one left.
"Get up," Adam said calmly.
He did not fully understand what had happened—but one thing was clear.
This man believed.
Rose to his feet, the Smoke Baron stood bent slightly forward, hands folded respectfully.
"I want to enter vampire society," Adam said."And I want to learn the techniques you've developed over the last two thousand years. They're… unfamiliar to me. But interesting."
So Vine was right.He truly did not understand modern secret arts.
The Smoke Baron had expected this.
But Adam's next request made his expression stiffen.
"That may be… difficult," he said carefully.
"What's the problem?"
There were many.
Adam did not know how thoroughly history had been rewritten. While resistance existed within vampire society, it was weak—insignificant compared to the old bloodlines.
If Adam revealed himself—
The rebels might hesitate.
But the assassins of the Seven Vampire Kings would arrive immediately.
Because no one stood to lose more from Adam's return than they did.
"With your true identity," the Smoke Baron said slowly,"it would be… unwise."
Adam fell silent.
He studied the Smoke Baron for a long moment.
"Vampire society doesn't know I exist," he said.
"That is correct."
"They altered history."
"Yes."
"And Machete, Ironhoof, and Whip?"
"The three second-generation vampires," the Smoke Baron replied."There are rumors they were sealed away."
"By whom?"
"No one knows. But it is said that seven third-generation vampires were involved."
Adam paced the room, then stopped.
"Where are they sealed?"
"Unknown. Most vampires are unaware they ever existed."
Adam turned back.
"So… if I use another identity, it's possible."
"Yes," the Smoke Baron said quickly."You could enter as a newly recruited member under my name. Given your… status, I suggest residing at my estate near the royal capital. All there are my bloodline. You'll have everything you need to study secret arts."
He hesitated, then added,"It may require some… inconvenience."
Adam nodded.
"Tonight, then."
"As you command."
The Smoke Baron paused.
"What of the humans who remain?"
By all logic, they should die.
Witnesses were liabilities.
But Adam waved a hand dismissively.
"Let them go. They don't know who we are. The world's big enough—and vampires don't exactly socialize."
"'Introverted… night people'?" the Smoke Baron echoed, puzzled.
Before he could ask more—
A thunderous roar split the night.
Two massive beams of light descended from the sky, sweeping across the castle and turning darkness into day.
They rushed onto the balcony—
Only to be met with a storm of bullets that shattered the stone railing into fragments.
They ducked.
The Smoke Baron stared in disbelief.
In five hundred years, he had never seen anything like this.
Above the castle hovered a steel beast, four vector thrusters spewing blue flames as it hung in the air.
"Rat-tat-tat—!"
Gunfire echoed.
Screams followed.
Dozens of black-armored soldiers slid down cables, machine guns blazing as they swept the courtyard.
Vine burst in—
And before he could speak, bullets tore through his body, exploding into clouds of blood.
"Who is this?!" the Smoke Baron shouted, shaken.
Adam smiled faintly.
"Who else?"
Two thousand years.
It seemed…
They had learned a few new tricks.