The electrical wires above Gray Street crisscrossed like a giant black spiderweb. Cheap neon signs buzzed with electric current, their alternating red and green light reflecting in the puddles of the alley, refracting into a colorful, greasy sheen. The air was thick with the smell of cheap synthetic tobacco and fried fish and chips, occasionally mixed with the heavy hiss of steam engines.
The burly, ugly man staggered out of the back door of the tavern, cursing under his breath as he unbuckled his belt to urinate against the corner. A jingling money pouch hung from his waist—his winnings from the underground gambling den.
Kane stopped three meters from the man. He frowned slightly, his nostrils fluttering, clearly repulsed by the smell of the place.
"Hey, kid, what are you looking at?" The man, whose name was Bal, turned and sized up Kane by the dim yellow light. Though Kane's shirt was wrinkled, the fine silk texture and his perfectly trimmed nails—even without rings—marked him as a lost lamb in Bal's eyes. "A young master from the Inner City? You're in the wrong place."
Bal spat a thick glob of phlegm and reached for the skinning knife at the small of his back.
Lilith stood in the shadows, hands in her coat pockets, her fingertips touching the short dagger inside. She didn't warn Bal. She just watched Kane quietly. She wanted to know how an ancient duke who had slept for three thousand years would react to provocation from a modern human.
Kane didn't speak. He didn't even look at the man.
Bal let out a strange yell, pulled out his skinning knife, and charged. His two hundred-plus pounds pounded against the wet cobblestones with heavy thuds.
Kane simply sidestepped, moving as lightly as a falling feather. The moment Bal rushed past him, Kane raised his left hand and pressed his index and middle fingers precisely against the artery in Bal's neck.
No tearing bite.
Lilith's eyes widened. She saw that Kane's fingertips hadn't elongated into claws, but Bal froze as if struck by high-voltage electricity. A faint red light flickered between Kane's fingertips and Bal's neck.
Bal's ruddy face turned pale rapidly. His eyes rolled back, showing large whites. His throat made gurgling sounds, and his body visibly deflated—his bulging muscles sagging like a punctured balloon.
In less than five seconds, Kane withdrew his hand.
Bal collapsed to the ground, his skinning knife falling into a puddle. He wasn't dead, but he looked like he had aged ten years in an instant, unable to lift even a finger.
Kane took a clean white silk handkerchief from his pocket and meticulously wiped the fingertips that had touched Bal's skin.
"Inferior quality," Kane said, dropping the handkerchief onto the filthy water. "The blood is full of metallic impurities and a rotten chemical toxin. Nightshade, is this the quality of you humans now?"
Lilith stepped out of the shadows. She bent down, picked up Bal's fallen money pouch, and weighed it in her hand. The pleasant clink of copper and silver coins came from inside.
"In Gray Street, finding a 'meal' with this physique is already good enough." Lilith tucked the pouch into her coat and glanced sideways at the collapsed Bal. "The food now is full of additives and heavy metals. Of course, ordinary people's blood won't taste good to you. If you want pure blood, you'll have to go to the Inner City. Those born with silver spoons in their mouths eat organic vegetables and drink high-mountain spring water every day."
A flicker of disgust passed through Kane's eyes. He looked toward the towering spires of Eden City's center, brightly lit in stark contrast to the gloom of the slum.
"Lead the way. Take me to this hideout of yours," Kane said coldly. His voice was slightly smoother than before—it seemed that meager amount of blood had provided some replenishment.
The two walked through the labyrinthine alleys of Gray Street. Lilith deliberately avoided checkpoints guarded by gangs. She knew well that Kane's current state was unstable. If a large-scale search was triggered on the main streets, she would suffer along with him.
"Hey, girl, where are you taking that unfamiliar face?"
Three thugs in torn leather jackets, with hair dyed in garish colors, emerged from behind a pile of garbage. They carried steel bars with barbs. The leader had a cheap hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his lips, and his eyes leered brazenly at Lilith's curvaceous figure.
Lilith stopped and sighed helplessly.
"Get lost. I'm in a bad mood today," she said coldly.
"Bad mood? The boys can help loosen you up?" The leader grinned, sidling closer, reaching out to touch Lilith's face.
His hand didn't make it halfway.
A dark blur flashed.
*Crack!*
The sound of snapping bone was crisp enough to make one's teeth ache.
The thug let out an inhuman scream. His entire wrist was bent backward at a grotesque angle; white bone splinters poked through the skin, and blood sprayed instantly.
Kane stood beside Lilith, his right hand still pressing downward, his expression as cold as if he had just snapped a dry twig.
"I said, too noisy."
The other two thugs were terrified out of their wits. They had never seen such ruthless brutality. They dropped their steel bars and ran.
Kane's fingertips twitched. Two metal fragments—picked up from the wreckage of the battle armor earlier—shot out like bullets, precisely embedding themselves in the two men's calves.
*Thwip-thwip!*
The two fell face down, clutching their legs and howling in agony.
Lilith watched but did not stop him. In Gray Street, if you showed the slightest weakness, an unidentified body would turn up in a ditch by morning.
"Don't kill them. The smell of blood will attract the 'hounds,'" Lilith said, stepping forward. She deftly fished a few coins from the leader's pocket, then quickly disappeared around the corner with Kane.
Ten minutes later, they arrived in front of a rickety red brick apartment building. Originally a factory dormitory, it had been abandoned due to foundation subsidence.
Lilith led Kane up the creaking wooden stairs to the top-floor attic.
She took a key from her boot, opened three heavy iron locks, and pushed open the reinforced door.
The attic wasn't large, but it was very tidy. One wall was lined with bookshelves stuffed with old books. In the center stood a huge oak workbench covered with flasks, test tubes, and magnifying glasses for deciphering runes. The air smelled faintly of ink and dried herbs.
Kane walked in and surveyed the modest setup. His gaze finally fell on a tattered copy of *On the Origin of the Vampire Race* on the shelf.
"This is your laboratory?" Kane walked to the bookshelf and ran his fingertips along the spines.
"It's a refuge." Lilith closed the door and locked it. She went to the sink, turned on the rusty faucet, and filled a basin with cold water to wash the blood off her face.
Due to the intense activity, one button on her collar had come undone. As she bent over, the faint curve of her chest looked somewhat alluring in the dim light.
Kane turned his head; his crimson pupils contracted slightly.
Lilith noticed his gaze. She straightened up, dried her face casually with a towel, and met his eyes calmly. "What, Your Grace, are you interested in the body of a 'lowly human' like me?"
"Your blood is heating up." Kane ignored her taunt and pointed at Lilith's wrist.
There, the thorn pattern was glowing faintly.
Lilith felt a strange heat spreading from her wrist throughout her body. Her heart began to race, her breathing quickened, and a fierce hunger—not for food, but for some deeper energy—rose from her marrow.
"Is this a side effect of the contract?" Lilith gripped the corner of the table, her fingertips turning white from pressure.
"It's sharing." Kane walked up to her, reached out, and brushed the back of his fingers lightly along her carotid artery. "I drank blood. My power is reviving. As the other end of the contract, your body is being forced to adapt to the overflow of that power. If you can't bear it, your blood vessels will burst."
Lilith bit her lower lip and raised her head defiantly. "Then you'd better teach me how to control it quickly. I don't want to turn into a pile of shredded meat before I've uncovered my family's secrets."
Kane looked into her wild, determined eyes. This girl possessed a tenacity that was extremely rare in this age.
He suddenly lowered his head and leaned close to Lilith's neck.
Lilith instinctively tried to step back, but Kane grabbed her waist firmly. His grip was powerful and unquestionable.
"Don't move," Kane's voice sounded in her ear, his warm breath brushing her earlobe, sending a shiver through her.
He didn't bite. He simply pressed his forehead into the hollow of Lilith's neck and closed his eyes.
Lilith felt a stream of cool energy flow back from the pattern on her wrist, dispersing the heat inside her. Her frantic heartbeat gradually calmed.
A strange connection formed between them. In a trance, Lilith saw fragmented images: black wings blotting out the sun, burning ancient castles, and tens of thousands of vampires kneeling and trembling on the ground.
Was that Kane's memory?
"Remember this feeling." Kane released his hand and stepped back. His complexion was slightly rosier than before. "That is your 'origin power.' In the future, when you draw on your bloodline's power, try to channel it toward your heart instead of letting it crash recklessly through your veins."
Lilith took a deep breath. The false euphoria from the surging power gradually faded, replaced by a steady sense of control.
She walked to the window, pulled aside a corner of the heavy curtain, and looked toward Eden City's Inner City in the distance.
"Kane, you said you were sealed by the Council. Then who holds power in the Council now? The same ones from back then?" Lilith's voice was low.
Kane snorted coldly, sat down by the workbench, and crossed his long legs. His posture was as elegant as if he were sitting on a throne. "Three thousand years is just a long nap for high-ranking vampires. As long as those old bastards aren't completely dead, they're still sitting on that rotten thrones."
"My parents died in a family power struggle. But according to the materials I've found, my father submitted a report about the 'Nightshade Bloodline Awakening' to a prince in the Inner City before he died." Lilith turned around, her eyes cold. "Not long after, he was accused of treason, and his whole family was killed. I want to know what they were so afraid of."
Kane tapped his long fingers on the desktop, producing a steady thumping sound.
"What they feared wasn't your father. They feared that the seed I left behind would sprout again." Kane looked up at her. "The Nightshade family are born interpreters of blood-runes. You can read forbidden runes that even princes can't understand. The array that sealed me was personally designed by your family's ancestors."
Lilith clenched her fists. So the family talent she had always been proud of was built on betraying this man.
"So, do you want to kill me for revenge now?"
"If I kill you, I'd have to go back to that dark, lightless hole." Kane stood up and walked toward Lilith.
He stopped in front of her and extended his hand. The black bone fragment that had once been embedded in the bronze door had somehow appeared in his palm.
"I will take you to the Inner City, to the highest council chamber." Kane held the bone fragment before Lilith's eyes. The red light illuminated both their faces. "What you need to do is use your eyes to dig out the truths hiding in the shadows, one by one. Then, I will personally drag those traitors down from their thrones and crush their skulls."
Lilith looked at the bone fragment, then at Kane's eyes, filled with a desire for destruction.
She reached out and placed her hand over the back of Kane's.
"Deal, Your Grace."
Just then, faint footsteps sounded from the corridor outside the attic.
Lilith's eyes sharpened. She instantly extinguished the lamp on the table.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
"Lilith, are you home?" An old, trembling voice called out. "It's me, old Mock. The Crimson Guard in the city is searching everywhere. They say an extremely dangerous criminal has escaped into Gray Street. You… you haven't run into any trouble, have you?"
Old Mock was the building's caretaker and one of the few humans who were still somewhat friendly to Lilith.
Lilith was about to answer when Kane suddenly covered her mouth.
He whispered in her ear, almost inaudibly: "He smells of silver."
Lilith's heart jolted. Old Mock was just an ordinary one-eyed old man. How could he have come into contact with silver weapons—available only to the Guard and hunters?
She gently pushed Kane's hand away and pulled a revolver loaded with mercury bullets from the drawer.
Outside the door, the footsteps seemed to grow more chaotic.
"Lilith?" Mock's voice carried a note of urgency. "Open the door. I've brought you some fresh bread."
Lilith leaned close to the peephole.
The corridor light was broken; it was pitch black. But in that darkness, she saw several red dots—infrared scanners unique to the Crimson Guard.
"They work fast," Lilith gritted her teeth.
She turned and looked at Kane.
"Looks like we'll have to have dinner somewhere else."
Kane simply straightened his cuffs, a cruel smile curving his lips.
"Since they're so eager to die, let them in."
He swept his right hand outward. A powerful suction force tore the heavy security door from its frame and hurled it into the darkness of the corridor.
*Boom!*
Followed by the roaring thunder of concentrated gunfire.