"…Rin"

  "Matsuoka… Old man…"Alvin stared at the wall of flames to his right; it stood between his room and the kitchen, consuming everything slowly. He shouted without moving, hoping—praying—that someone would answer.

  But no one did.

  Now, Alvin prayed in his heart that he had gone deaf.

  Deafness was the reason that he was unable to hear their voice; they were calling out to him, but he could not listen.

  Yet again, the crackling of the fire licked every inch of the restaurant, burning that hope.

  He opened his mouth, but no words came out of it. His lips quivered, and a single tear fell out of his right eye. The pain of the loss was so much that even his injuries seemed to be a soothing balm on his aching heart.

  Just then—

  Alvin heard something; it was the sound of something clacking coming closer to him.

  Alvin turned to look at the source of the noise with limpid eyes, his vision clouded with tears.

  When he saw the figure of a woman wearing a kimono appearing in his sight, his heart clenched, "…Rin?"

  The words rolled off of his tongue, hope and desperation laced in his tone. Alvin wanted to believe—no, he needed to believe that Rin was safe.

  The woman, upon hearing the desperation in his voice, stopped but said nothing.

  Her silence unsettled Alvin.

  He closed his eyes, allowing the lingering tears to fall before opening them.

  Now with clear eyes, he looked at the figure standing before him once more, and his stomach twisted. He realized that the woman standing before him was not who he hoped she was.

  "Who are you…?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He appeared to be drained of energy, but in the depths of his eyes, a strange light flickered and refused to die out.

  His eyes linked with a pair of wine-red eyes. A fleeting scene appeared in his mind; he recalled why the woman seemed familiar. To be precise, it was her eyes that he had seen before.

  She was the woman whom he caught peeking at the fight from the private room, the same woman who had booked an entire floor of private rooms just for herself.

  During the argument he had with the customer earlier, he had looked upwards by coincidence and saw those eyes for the first time.

  They were the most beautiful and captivating eyes he had ever seen in his life. But at this moment, he could not bring himself to appreciate them even a bit.

  The only thought on his mind was— Why is she unharmed?

  Alvin was not cursing her to die or angry that she survived after all, even if he was alive, for now.

  But what he could not wrap his head around was the fact that not only had the woman survived such an explosion, but she was unscathed. Like she was never in the middle of the explosion when it happened.

  'How is that possible? I am sure it was her who was watching the fight from the private room.' The sudden anomaly took Alvin's mind temporarily off his pain and loss.

  Earlier he did not think much about them due to the heated argument and looked away, but now… he couldn't sit still when the woman who should have died along with everyone else was now standing right before him.

  A cold chill ran down his spine, irrational yet undeniable. Alvin's fingers brushed against the broken wooden floor beneath him—a habit, something he did to calm himself down when he needed to think.

  Under the bluish shade of the umbrella, the woman's pale face gave off a gentle aura. Yet her eerie calmness unsettled Alvin the most.

  Her long, wavy black hair was tied in a loose braid that rested on her shoulders, giving the woman the appearance of a graceful Japanese wife.

  Yet Alvin noticed that she was not Japanese; she simply dressed like one.

  Noticing the wariness and confusion in his eyes, the woman sighed and lowered the umbrella she was holding, folding it smoothly.

  "Everyone here is dead except you." Her blood-red lips broke the silence.

  But hearing them, Alvin trembled, his face paled as he lowered his head. He felt the last bit of hope in his heart shatter, a hope that made him believe the people he cared about somehow did not get caught in this disaster and somehow escaped.

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  The mysterious woman paused, allowing the news to sink into his mind, and spoke again, "You are also on the verge of dying."

  Her voice was devoid of any pity, sympathy, or any other emotion besides calmness.

  She was not being cruel, nor was she here to mock him—she was merely stating facts. Her gaze dropped; it fell on the huge piece of wood on the broken floor that was now sticking out of Alvin's stomach, its surface drenched in blood.

  The wound was so ghastly that even a huge part of his stomach and liver was destroyed by the same stake.

  The rest of his body was not unharmed as well; his legs were twisted in a way they're not supposed to even bend in.

  Alvin had already seen his situation and knew there was nothing he could do about his situation. "I am bound to die; I am aware." He said dryly, but a look of unwillingness flashed through his eyes.

  This unwillingness was rooted in a deep fear of death and the unknown journey it entails.

  Alvin himself may not have realized this, but the woman before him saw it clearly in his eyes. She could see through him like an open book. It was not like Alvin was a master at hiding his emotions.

  Alvin tried to change, showing he was not bothered, "But who are you? What happened here? Why are you fine?"

  Even though he did not fool anyone but himself, the woman went along with him. For the first time, she smiled—barely.

  "Pleased to meet you, I am Elara Metanoa." With a graceful bow, she introduced herself like some kind of aristocrat: "Would you mind answering a few of my questions?"

  'Is she being serious?' Alvin thought, staring at the woman with a blank face.

  Maybe it was the flickering glow of the flames around them, or perhaps something else entirely, but for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flush of color on Elara's pale face.

  Ignoring the look on his face, Elara cleared her thoughts with a small cough and asked, "The situation you are in is quite grim." Ignoring the no-sh*t expression on his face, she continued, "Are you really willing to let go of your life like this? Are you ready to die in this place?"

  Alvin appeared visibly annoyed by her questions. He lowered his head and looked at his injuries once more.

  Live? With these injuries?

  He thought that Elara was making fun of him, but when he saw the gentle expression on her face, he could not help but calm down.

  He also could not ignore the fact that this woman had escaped this disaster unscathed. Despite his injuries, Alvin's mind was surprisingly working at a much more advanced rate than usual.

  The pain he should have been feeling was blocked by his brain from the sheer severity of his injuries and the intense pain it brought. It was like a survival instinct of his body; it shut itself off to extend Alvin's life.

  He knew he had several hidden injuries inside his body other than the one he could see, the headache, and the pressure on the brain; he knew it could be a concussion or intra-cerebral hemorrhage.

  He had so many injuries that he could not directly diagnose the cause of the symptoms he was experiencing.

  'If only there was a hospital nearby, I would have survived, but with these injuries, moving me recklessly will only kill me faster.'

  Not only was a huge chunk of his stomach missing, but his legs were also crippled.

  There was no way he could survive these injuries, let alone live a good life. The more he thought about these things, the more he panicked internally.

  His body stiffened, his muscles started to contract, and his vision blurred.

  No, not now—!

  A sharp pain shot through his skull, and suddenly, his entire body spasmed violently. His lips curled unnaturally, his fingers twitched, and darkness began creeping at the edges of his sight.

  Sensing his fluctuating emotions, Elara's expression faltered for a second. When she saw him suddenly having a seizure, she hurriedly stepped forward and leaned down. The movement caused her braid to slip over her shoulder, swaying slightly; with a quiet voice, she said, "Calm down."

  Whatever she did, surprisingly, worked!

  Alvin's muscles relaxed, his mind cleared, and his vision returned.

  His seizures stopped.

  Unknown to Alvin, his eyes glowed with a red hue for a second before returning to normal.

  Alvin blinked; his mind had been jumbled by several emotions at the same time just a moment ago; now it felt… empty. Hollow.

  He realized that something had happened; something inside him had changed!

  All of the pain he was feeling a moment ago, the loss of his loved ones, it all simply vanished.

  What did she just do?! Alvin looked up to meet Elara's gentle gaze, and now that gentleness sent off alarms deep inside of him.

  He started to feel all the emotions; his grief, his helplessness, his pain, and even his anger were starting to fade away. His heart grew empty as he calmed down.

  "What did you do?" Alvin asked softly; he wanted to get angry; he wanted to feel the pain, the pain of the loss.

  He did not want this… stillness.

  "This place, the reason for your suffering, it was all done by this man." Elara did not answer him; instead, she turned to the side and showed the man she had been dragging behind her, "You survived only because this section was the farthest from the blasts. The wall in the middle took the brunt of the explosion before it collapsed."

  Alvin took her words calmly; there was not even a fraction of anger on his face. Seeing him like this, Elara looked away slightly but maintained a firm expression on her face.

  Alvin saw another figure appearing in his vision. An unconscious man, barely clinging to life. The moment Alvin recognized the man's face, he realized who it was.

  He knew who he was.

  "Him?" The one responsible for all of this. The one who had taken everything from him. Staring at his face, Alvin felt anger and hatred start to bubble up, but it all vanished as soon as it came.

  "Why tell me all this?" Alvin could not even feel annoyed at the moment; he simply looked at Elara and asked silently.

  Be it the sight of the wounds of the man or the fact that the man was hovering in the air, Alvin should have felt confusion, shock, or disgust, maybe even nausea.

  But he felt… nothing.

  'Is it some kind of hypnosis?' His thoughts snapped to the moment Elara had told him to 'calm down.'

  "How is that possible?" He muttered to himself softly, thinking what might cause the man to float like this, 'Is this magic? Or some other kind of power?'

  "You asked what I did to you," Elara finally spoke, "Let me announce my identity once more."

  "I am Elara Metanoa, heir to the house of Metanoa, one of the six most noble blood clans of the vampire race." As she started to speak, Alvin felt chills all over his body. His breath hitched as he saw Elara's appearance undergoing a huge change.

  The color of her skin paled, her lips parted, revealing a pair of canine teeth. Her hair and nails elongated a bit, her braid coming undone as silky strands of her hair fell in all around her shoulder, reaching her lower back.

  Once she finished her transformation, "I am a purebred vampire." She declared with pride.

  There was not much change in her appearance, but everything happened before Alvin's eyes, leaving him no choice but to believe her words.