At a classmate's birthday party, Muria handled the small talk with composure, gracefully responding to each person who approached him, be it fellow students or adults eager to make connections.
This gathering, ostensibly a celebration for his classmate Nilo, turned into Muria's stage. Nearly every adult who learned his identity sought to strike up a conversation, hoping to leave a favorable impression. Some even subtly encouraged their daughters to get close to him, clearly intending to build ties with the prominent families in the Federation.
After a few hours, this supposedly celebratory but interest-driven party came to an end, and by then, night had fully settled.
"Feeling pretty smug, aren't you, Mr. Big Shot? You were the center of attention; everyone was trying to cozy up to you." A red sports car pulled up in front of Muria, and from the passenger seat, a girl with vibrant red hair, matching the car's color, leaned out.
"What's there to be smug about?" Muria replied, genuinely surprised at her attempt to needle him. "I go through something like this a few times a month—I'm used to it. What, haven't you experienced something similar?"
"You..." The girl was momentarily at a loss for words, her face turning awkward before she shrank back into the car with a "hmph!"
"Gerald, your mom didn't come to pick you up?" the man in the driver's seat asked Muria with a friendly smile. He was an approachable-looking middle-aged man. "If not, I can give you a lift."
"No, thanks," Muria replied politely. "I still have a few things to take care of, so I'll be home a bit later."
"Alright then, remember to get home soon." With that, the car started up again, and before it left, the girl in the passenger seat threw Muria a look that clearly said, "You'd better know your place."
Afterward, Muria turned down offers from several other people offering him rides, finally choosing a random street to wander through the city at his leisure.
After walking a few streets without anyone approaching him, Muria paused to think, then continued, making his movements increasingly unsteady and letting a blush creep onto his face. A faint smell of alcohol surrounded him, his steps growing wobbly.
"Now I should look like the perfect prey," Muria mused to himself, staggering as he pretended to be a drunken teenager. This was a tactic he'd devised after studying anomalous creatures, a baiting method he was trying for the first time that night.
As night deepened and the city grew quieter, with fewer people on the streets and cars becoming sparse, Muria continued his unsteady walk.
"Damn, not a single bite yet. I guess my bait isn't tempting enough." Muria looked up at the sky, checked the time, and sighed. "Fine, I'll just walk home."
But just as he turned in the direction of his home, something happened that genuinely surprised him.
"Hey there, little guy. Why are you out here alone so late?" Within moments of appearing within his sensory range, a woman sidled up to him. Her arm slipped around his, steadying him as a soft, syrupy voice murmured close to his ear.
"Hmm? Who are you?" Muria turned, feigning confusion as he looked at the tall woman clinging to his arm. She was a strikingly beautiful woman with a perfect figure, radiating an allure as tempting as a ripe peach.
"Me? I'm just a kind older sister. Did you get drunk with your classmates?"
"Drunk? I'm not drunk; I can still drink." Muria pretended to be displeased, acting like a headstrong youth.
"You're definitely drunk, little guy. Why don't you tell me where you live? I'll help you get home." Her smile grew wider as she smelled the strong alcohol scent mixed with the vitality on Muria.
"Home? Where is my home?" The drunken teen looked around blankly, his face growing more lost.
"Looks like you've had too much. Well, if that's the case, why don't you come stay with me for the night?" A sickly-sweet fragrance lingered around Muria's nose, making his head feel even heavier.
"Okay!" The blush on Muria's face deepened, and he nodded as if entranced.
"Come to my car; I'll take you to my place." The woman helped the seemingly weak-legged youth to a nondescript sedan.
The drowsy, dark-haired boy slumped into the back seat, looking as tempting as a fresh meal. As soon as he lay down, a boy about his age leaned over, sniffing at him. Muria squinted, recognizing that the newcomer bore a resemblance to the woman in the driver's seat—perhaps her younger brother.
The boy looked at him with greedy, hungry eyes, like a starving dog, saliva glistening at the corners of his mouth.
"Smells delicious. Sis, you've found a prime catch this time."
"Of course, what do you expect?" The woman smiled smugly, glancing at her brother with a warning as he looked ready to sink his teeth in.
"Don't eat here; it's not safe. Wait until we're home."
"Fine!" The boy reluctantly backed off, wiping drool from his chin before sitting upright.
He didn't notice Muria's right hand, hidden beneath him, clench and then slowly release. If he hadn't backed off, Muria would have struck him right then and there.
Before long, the car pulled into a shabby complex on the edge of the city. As soon as it stopped, the boy eagerly hefted the seemingly sleeping Muria over his shoulder and carried him into an old tenement.
"Still a kid, can't even control his appetite," the purple-haired woman muttered, watching her brother hurry off with Muria in tow.
Bang! The boy dumped Muria onto the hard floor inside their apartment, making a dull thud.
"Where am I?" Muria rubbed his head as he sat up, looking at the purple-haired woman who had followed them in.
"Little guy, you forgot already? You had too much to drink, so I brought you back here," she replied with a twisted grin, shutting the door behind her. "Now we can do something meaningful."
"What do you mean by meaningful?" Muria backed up, watching as their eyes turned a bright crimson.
"Why, dinner, of course!" The boy, his eyes now blood-red, looked at Muria with drool soaking his chin.
"Be a good boy, and we'll be gentle. We'll make it quick. You can scream if you want, but don't bother—this place is soundproofed. No one will hear you."
"Oh, in that case, I'm relieved." Muria smiled, watching the boy lunge at him eagerly.
Bang!
A bullet marked with purple streaks entered the boy's forehead and exploded, sending fragments of bone and brain matter flying everywhere. The scene turned gory in an instant.
"You…!" The woman looked at Muria, now standing up and holding a white handgun with purple markings, his face completely void of fear. Shock and then anger flashed across her face.
"A headshot took him out; low-grade ghoul. What trash," Muria scoffed, glancing down at the headless corpse.
"A Star-Armor user! Well, well!" Her twisted expression turned malevolent. "The nerve you've got, trying to bait us like those White Coats do. You're courting death!"
"My bait brought in you two ghouls, so I'd say it worked." Muria replied with a grin, making a mental note of her reference to the White Coats.
"If you're playing hunter, you'd better be ready for the prey to turn on you, little boy!" Snarling, dark red tentacles burst from her back, twitching ominously behind her, making her look more monstrous.
"I've never made that kind of preparation," Muria said, activating his Star Armor. The Phoenix Hatchling Star Armor materialized, covering his body inch by inch.
"The Phoenix Hatchling Armor? You're a Douglas family member. Looks like I caught a future big shot tonight!" Seeing the iconic armor, the woman's twisted grin grew.
"Once I tear off that armor, I'll get to see if someone from a prestigious family tastes any different from a regular human. I can't wait!"
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