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Deep in the forest, a mud-covered man ran for his life, clutching a laurel crown in both hands.
"Hahaha! I'm still alive, I'm still alive!"
"If I hand this over to the other vampire lords, they'll definitely take me in!"
"And not just that—I even know Kamen Rider Drive's true identity! Who'd believe that the one terrifying the vampires was just some brat?!"
"Ahahaha!"
He stomped through mud and water, laughing like a madman, oblivious to the dangers around him.
"Yoh-ho-ho~ Yoh-ho~"
A lilting tune drifted through the woods. A man stepped out with elegance, black hair hanging long enough to cover one eye, gold-rimmed round glasses perched on his face. He wore a long black coat and a white scarf, his smile refined, almost gentle.
The filthy man froze, then lit up with excitement. He scrambled forward on hands and feet.
"Lord! Lord! Just like you told me, I found the crown! Look!"
He held out the dirty laurel crown.
The man took it with faint distaste, inspected it, and nodded.
"Not bad. It's real."
The filthy man grinned obsequiously.
"Of course, my lord! I saw that old fossil hand it straight to Boss Nonika. Too bad the boss got killed. Lucky for me, I grabbed it while hiding in the shadows."
He rubbed his grimy hands together nervously.
"So, uh, my lord… since the Aranka family's gone, and I've made this little contribution… could you maybe take me in? Let me serve you?"
The man's smile deepened.
"You want to follow me, huh? Not impossible. Why don't you tell me what happened in that castle?"
Eager to prove himself, the man spilled everything—Dan storming the castle, how he killed Nonika and the others, the earth-shaking battle with Vlad—every detail, blurted out without holding back.
The man listened, nodding slowly.
"I see. That explains it."
"Yes, yes, exactly, my lord! I saw it with my own eyes— that kid is terrifyingly strong."
He kept nodding, piling on praise for Dan's strength.
"My lord, I told you everything I know, so maybe now you could—"
The man smiled politely, raising his right hand.
A strange sigil appeared on his palm, releasing a crushing force.
"AAAHHHH!"
The filthy man's scream echoed once before falling silent. Only one man remained in the forest.
He removed his glasses and carefully polished them with a cloth.
"The Aranka family is gone. What use is there for you to remain? Join your kin in oblivion."
He slid his glasses back on, tucked away the laurel crown, and with a small bow toward the ruined castle, walked off humming his tune.
The familiar castle. Dan was back on the throne. Warm sunlight spilled over him like golden robes.
A soft violin melody echoed through the hall, gentle as running water.
Slowly, Dan opened his eyes. Everything looked so familiar.
"So… I came back? Guess I'm not dead after all."
"What's wrong, my dear King? Why do I hear disappointment in your voice? What happened?"
Wataru stopped playing, asking curiously.
Dan rubbed his face and sighed deeply.
"Too much happened."
And so, he began recounting everything from the past two days—the grand charity gala, the brutal vampire killings, his fiery quest for revenge, the life-and-death battles that twisted again and again.
All of it, crammed into just two days. Two short, endless days. For Dan, it had been one farewell after another.
He was exhausted.
When he finished, Wataru lifted the violin again.
"Fate is fate. I understand your sorrow, but please… rise above it. Sadness belongs to the past. We still have a beautiful future ahead."
"The past, huh?"
Dan stared off, dazed. Could it really be that easy to leave sorrow behind?
As Wataru's music flowed on, Dan drifted back into sleep. He needed it—needed rest, for real this time.
New York's top hospital. Inside the emergency room, doctors worked frantically.
Outside, Eric and Stark paced anxiously until a doctor finally emerged.
"How is he? How's he doing?"
Usually calm, Eric grabbed the doctor by the shoulders.
"Sir, please calm down! Don't waste the patient's precious time!"
Stark quickly pulled him back, and Eric realized his mistake, letting go. The doctor hurried back in with more specialists.
All the two men could do was sit outside, staring helplessly at the doors. Inside was Dan.
Right after the battle, Stark had scrambled a helicopter, using Eric's senses to track the castle's location.
When they saw the ruins, both were stunned. What kind of fight could've leveled a place like that?
And when they found Dan, he was barely alive. Stark had rushed him straight to the best hospital in New York, sparing no expense.
But Dan had been in emergency care for four hours now, with no end in sight.
Another hour passed. A doctor finally stepped out.
"Are you the patient's family?"
Both men hurried forward.
"Yes, we are! How is he?"
The doctor hesitated, then said plainly:
"To be frank, the patient's in terrible condition. His injuries… honestly, they're enough to have killed him several times over. But somehow, he's still alive. Even so, it's critical. He has a massive puncture wound through his left shoulder that's pierced into the heart. Surgery is needed—but the procedure is so difficult, no one in this hospital dares to attempt it."
"What? Why?!"
Stark's eyes went wide.
"You're supposed to be the best hospital in New York—hell, in the whole country! And you're telling me no one here will do it?"
"Please calm down, Mr. Stark. Our hospital is indeed among the finest. But honestly, there's only one person in the entire country who could handle this operation."
"Then tell me who. Whoever it is, I'll get them here. Do I look like a man short on money?"
"That person… isn't in our hospital. You'll need to seek him out yourself."
"Who is it?"
"Doctor Strange."
"....."