The underground chamber was pitch black. A few candles hissed as they burned, casting an orange-red glow over Athena's flushed, mildly angry face.
The air was heavy with the scent of dry parchment and faint magical vibrations. Every breath reminded Adam that this was no ordinary library—it was a forbidden sanctum where knowledge and danger intertwined.
Adam took a step back, his fingers tensing, teeth bared. His eyes flickered with a controlled fire. He had no intention of confronting a 1,600-year-old giant-descendant before mastering high-level vampiric arts—especially in the giant's own lair.
For a long moment, they stared each other down. Beads of sweat rolled off Adam's forehead. Finally, Athena sighed and stood:
"The books on that shelf… will they be enough for you to agree to help me complete history? High-level vampiric arts, and some rare cultivation notes."
"Enough." Adam swallowed, eyes locked on the red shelf. Each spine pulsed with a subtle, bloodlike shimmer, whispering promises of forbidden knowledge.
Then, a small smile curved Athena's youthful face, unexpectedly wise and gentle.
"You are Adam, aren't you?"
Adam's chest tightened. A low growl escaped him. Fingers flexed. Teeth glinted. He had underestimated her—just a few words and she had pinned his identity.
"Don't worry," Athena said with a sly tilt of her mouth, innocence masking something far sharper. "I won't tell anyone."
"How do you know who I am?" Adam asked, his voice cold.
"A few days ago, Father showed me the wanted notices. He told me to watch. He said you might come here." Athena crouched, collecting her quill, ink, and notebook, stacking them neatly on the desk. She looked up, eyes piercing Adam through the candlelight.
"I knew vampires can alter their appearances, so I barely glanced at the notices before discarding them. But you… coming to Athena's library now, risking everything, it's not just for the books. You intend to complete that manuscript."
Athena picked up the golden scepter, the metal catching the candlelight. "Unless a vampire has no other way to get high-level arts… your words, that you can restore the book—even without mentioning Eden's history—point to only one possibility: Adam."
She swung the heavy scepter through the air. Its tip stopped inches from Adam's nose, wind stirring his hair.
Adam's tension eased slightly. If she intended harm, she wouldn't have wasted words.
"Help me complete the book." Athena's violet eyes curved like crescent moons. "All of Eden's history."
"And what's in it for me?"
"I won't report you."
Adam's lips curved into a calculating smile, not joy. "Intimidation alone isn't trust. Without risk or price, how do I know you won't expose the truth anyway? I could tell you everything, and you could still betray me."
Athena hesitated, then approached the red shelf, picking up a book and tossing it toward him.
"Consider this a deposit. For every portion of history you give me, I'll give you a book of arts."
Adam scanned the shelves. Hundreds of high-level books—far fewer than the low-level stacks—yet the offer was astonishing. Athena, a giant-descendant, was willing to barter knowledge over power. It seemed that, for her, knowledge outweighed even species loyalty or strength.
"Of course," Athena said, her smile unwavering. "Capturing you… that's my father's concern, not mine. Bloodline grudges and affairs of clan mean nothing. I immerse myself in knowledge alone. Seeking truth is the reason I exist."
Adam picked up the books, facing her. "Deal."
…
At dawn, the Fat Man rose early and rode toward the foot of Olympus. Along the way, he saw devastation: homes reduced to rubble, streets filled with frightened onlookers. Soldiers scoured the ruins for survivors. It mattered little to him—his only task was to secure Adam. Several potions were tucked safely in his pockets, just in case.
Meanwhile, in another corner of Athens…
"You let them escape?" Youming rose slowly, voice low and deadly.
Before him knelt Violet, the beautiful vampire who had helped trap the spider and monkey the previous night.
"Father… they were only fourth-generation vampires, but their techniques were flawless…" she murmured.
Youming's gaze was icy. "Experience is one thing, but why was one injured by the Abyss? Two fled, yes, but one was severely harmed. Are Athens' vampires, with every advantage, truly weaker than those from North Africa… or Western Europe?"
Violet bowed her head, guilt painting her features.
A hoarse voice came from outside the door: "Your Highness, the Elders demand an explanation for last night's high-level vampire conflict in the city."
Youming's eyes narrowed to frost. "Explanation? Tell them to leave."
In that moment, the red shelf's faint glow seemed to pulse like blood, and the candlelight cast jagged shadows across the underground library. Adam and Athena's silhouettes stretched large, monstrous even. Fate had been set in motion—and the hunter's game had only just begun.