Huff!
Inside a dark and filthy sewer tunnel, Kyle stood waist-deep in murky sewage water. The stagnant liquid rippled faintly around his legs as he breathed heavily. His scarlet eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness as he stared toward the tunnel ahead.
The underground passage was silent, yet the tension in the air felt suffocating.
"Damn it," Kyle muttered under his breath, his teeth grinding with frustration. "Those stubborn bastards."
Instead of hunting down the truly dangerous criminals roaming Gotham, the assassins had chosen to pursue him relentlessly. From their perspective, he was the bigger problem.
After all, he had once been one of them.
An old acquaintance.
Kyle's expression twisted with annoyance. If he could, he would have sought protection from the Blood God immediately. Unfortunately, that terrifying existence was nowhere to be found.
Even worse, Harley—another vampire directly descended from the Blood God—had shown absolutely no interest in helping him.
So Kyle had no choice but to face the assassins alone.
If he hadn't recently absorbed the blood of one of the enhanced assassins, giving his body a temporary surge of strength, he would have already been captured by now.
Pah… pah… pah…
Suddenly, the faint sound of splashing footsteps echoed from deeper inside the sewer.
Kyle's eyes narrowed instantly.
Ever since becoming a vampire, his senses had sharpened dramatically. Even in the pitch-black sewer, his vision remained surprisingly clear.
Without hesitation, Kyle leapt upward.
His body climbed along the rough rock wall with unnatural agility until he reached the upper edge of the tunnel. Pressed flat against the ceiling, he stared downward toward the approaching figure.
Before the person appeared, the blade arrived first.
A slender sword slowly slid out from the darkness at the mouth of a side tunnel.
Kyle's heart skipped a beat.
He held his breath and focused his gaze.
Moments later, the assassin stepped into view.
The man was dressed completely in black, his body slightly hunched as he moved cautiously along the wall. A katana rested against his side, its blade angled forward for an instant strike.
This was clearly a trained Japanese swordsman.
Within the League of Assassins, killers came from all over the world. Many had undergone brutal training and were injected with gene-enhancing compounds that strengthened their bodies beyond normal human limits.
Combined with the lethal combat techniques they mastered, these assassins became some of the most dangerous predators operating in the shadows.
It was precisely because of warriors like these that the League of Assassins had managed to dominate Europe's underground world for so many years.
Among them, Japanese assassins were often considered the most terrifying.
They were cautious.
They were patient.
And above all, they were ruthlessly cunning.
Yet strangely, Kyle felt a slight sense of relief when he realized who his opponent was.
This assassin hadn't noticed him.
More importantly, Kyle didn't feel the overwhelming pressure that accompanied the league's elite leaders.
As long as this wasn't one of the organization's commanders, Kyle believed he still had a chance to win.
Silently studying the man's movements, Kyle waited.
He understood enough about the assassins' combat habits to predict their patrol patterns. When the swordsman walked directly beneath his hiding spot, Kyle finally moved.
Chi—
Clang!
The clash of steel echoed violently through the sewer tunnel.
Kyle dropped from the ceiling like a predator. At the same instant, the assassin reacted with astonishing speed, his katana flashing upward in a defensive strike.
Pain exploded through Kyle's chest as the blade pierced his body.
But he didn't stop.
Ignoring the wound completely, Kyle lunged forward and wrapped both arms around the assassin's torso.
The killer's eyes widened in shock.
Before he could react further, Kyle's mouth opened.
Two razor-sharp fangs extended downward.
With savage force, he bit directly into the assassin's neck.
The assassin tried to block the attack with his arm, but Kyle's vampire strength far exceeded human limits. The resistance lasted only a moment before the man's body began to weaken.
The instant the fangs punctured his throat, the assassin froze.
Hot blood flowed from the wound.
It streamed directly into Kyle's mouth.
The moment the warm liquid touched his tongue, a strange sensation erupted through his body.
The cold numbness that had plagued him for days vanished instantly. A powerful surge of vitality rushed through his muscles, spreading from his chest to every corner of his limbs.
Strength returned.
More than before.
Kyle's eyes gradually filled with a strange intoxicated glow.
This feeling…
The overwhelming pleasure of consuming blood.
For someone who had once been stripped of his bloodthirsty instinct, the sensation now felt dangerously addictive.
At that moment, Kyle even found himself resenting Lucas slightly.
Why had that man sealed away such an incredible instinct without even asking him?
Several seconds passed before the assassin's body finally went limp.
Kyle slowly released the pale, lifeless corpse and let it collapse into the sewage water.
The blood had stopped flowing.
The body was empty.
Kyle flexed his fingers experimentally.
His muscles felt tighter.
Stronger.
A flicker of excitement appeared in his scarlet eyes.
His strength had increased again.
Only slightly—but the improvement was unmistakable.
After thinking for a moment, Kyle quickly understood the reason.
These assassins had been injected with enhancement serums. Their bodies already contained concentrated evolutionary factors. By drinking their blood, Kyle was absorbing fragments of that power.
However, most of the enhancement had already fused with the assassin's body structure.
What Kyle absorbed was only a small portion of the remaining energy.
Still, if he continued feeding like this…
Eventually his body would reach the upper limit of what those enhancement serums could provide.
And once that happened…
Kyle's eyes glowed with a deeper crimson light.
"Then I'll find someone stronger."
The thought formed in his mind like a spark igniting dry tinder.
Once the idea appeared, it refused to disappear.
Kyle couldn't help imagining himself draining the blood of increasingly powerful beings—growing stronger with each victim.
Stronger.
Stronger.
Until one day…
He might even surpass the Blood God himself.
Lost in that intoxicating fantasy, Kyle never noticed the silent consciousness watching from deep within his own body.
—
Above ground, the streets of Gotham were unusually quiet.
Only a few pedestrians wandered along the sidewalks, their footsteps echoing softly beneath the dim streetlights. The distant scent of food drifted through the air from a nearby restaurant that had yet to close for the night.
Lucas Kane walked slowly down the street, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.
It seemed the businesses in this district were staying open later and later.
The soft yellow glow of the lamps illuminated the empty road.
High above the street, on the shadowed second floor where the light couldn't reach, Lucas leaned casually against the edge of a window.
His eyes were half-closed.
A moment ago, he had connected his consciousness to Kyle.
Everything Kyle experienced—every thought, every sensation—had flowed directly back to him.
After witnessing Kyle's actions and feelings, an unusual glimmer appeared in Lucas's eyes.
As the original source of vampires in this world, Lucas himself had never actually consumed blood.
Until now, his understanding of the ability had been purely theoretical.
But even after witnessing the effect firsthand, Lucas still had no intention of testing it personally.
From his perspective, the strength contained within those assassins was far too insignificant.
The enhancement they offered him would be negligible at best.
As for the dangerous ambitions forming inside Kyle's mind…
Lucas could sense them vaguely.
When he realized what Kyle was imagining, he couldn't help raising an invisible thumb in approval.
Kid, you've got ambition.
I chose the right pawn.
From the beginning, Kyle had been the unstable variable Lucas deliberately released into the world.
When Lucas transformed him into a vampire, fragments of Kyle's memories had already passed through his mind. That was one of the hidden abilities of the vampire progenitor body, even though the system panel never displayed it clearly.
Through those memories, Lucas had learned about the existence of the League of Assassins.
And that knowledge had sparked an interesting idea.
Since Lucas understood Kyle better than anyone else on Earth, he could already see the outline of a new plan forming.
If one dark organization already existed in the shadows…
Why not create another one to oppose it?
The thought amused him.
As for the possibility that Kyle might escape his control, Lucas wasn't particularly worried.
His gaze shifted toward a book resting beside the window.
The Vampire Diaries.
That fictional vampire mythology would eventually become the strongest conceptual weapon suppressing every blood descendant he created.
Lucas's attention then moved to another book lying beneath it.
Dracula: Year One.
This was currently the cover with the highest accumulation of dimensional energy.
Moments ago, Kyle's murder of the assassin had added another small increase to that energy reserve.
After all, the assassin had been a powerful individual.
And assassins rarely lived lives free of sin.
Lucas watched quietly as the invisible energy bar slowly rose another fraction.
Sure enough.
This strategy was working perfectly.
He already understood why the dimensional energy kept increasing. The actions of his growing network—Faust, Kyle, and the other vampires—were continuously punishing criminals throughout the city.
The benefits of building an organization were far greater than Lucas had originally imagined.
And the bond between vampire progenitor and blood descendants created the perfect chain of loyalty.
Snap!
Suddenly, the roof tiles above the window shattered.
Before Lucas could react, a slender figure dropped from the rooftop and crashed directly into him.
The unexpected impact knocked him flat onto the floor without resistance.
....
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