Chapter 1 — “Hey, Human.”
A peculiar hum rippled through the pitch-black night as a small bat glided gracefully, weaving through the tranquil skies above West City.
“Qing He, skip the boxing gym this weekend. Come hiking with me instead?”
Ryan looked up from his phone as he walked, surprised to find that his friend, who had been right beside him moments ago, had vanished.
Turning back, he saw Ethan staring blankly toward the sports field. Ryan followed his gaze. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Ethan withdrew his gaze and kept walking.
Ryan resumed their earlier conversation. “Did you read that post I sent you last night?”
Ethan: “No.”
Ryan groaned. “Knew it. The guy who posted it said he stumbled upon a mysterious cave near Westspring Mountain while hiking off-trail. Said he almost died inside, and when he went back with proper gear, the cave had disappeared. Sounded pretty legit.”
Ethan: “Hmm.”
Sensing his friend’s distraction, Ryan glanced toward the field again, but saw nothing—not even a shadow. “Seriously, what are you looking at?”
Ethan ignored the question. “What are we eating? I’m starving.”
Ryan, too nearsighted to notice, kept walking. But Ethan could see it clearly—a small, shifting shadow hovering beneath a large tree by the track.
That shadow had been following him for ten minutes, and just moments ago, it had darted under that very tree, circling the trunk several times in a strangely deliberate motion. It wasn’t a swarm of insects.
Ryan said, “Hotpot? It’s cold. Feels like the right weather for it.”
Ethan: “Fine by me.”
Beneath that same tree, Lucien watched his prey drift farther away. Excitement stirred within him; he could hardly contain himself.
It had been less than three days since he arrived in Eastland, yet he’d already encountered countless scents—most repulsive, some acrid—but none pleasing to his refined senses. His nose had nearly given up when, at last, fortune smiled upon him.
He’d only come to the school to try his luck—and luck, indeed, had favored him. This scent, this intoxicating aroma of blood—it set his fangs on edge.
But rules were rules. His brother had warned him: in places crowded with humans, he must keep up appearances. So he hid in the shadows, shifted forms, and disguised himself as a student, following the alluring scent all the way to the food street.
Unfortunately, the dinner rush made the air unbearable—a cacophony of smells mingling into one nauseating stench.
Lucien’s face twisted in distaste, though it softened when he drew near that singularly pleasant scent. Just as he reached for the hotpot restaurant’s door, someone pushed it open from inside, bumping straight into him.
“Oh, sorry! Didn’t see you there.” Ryan shoved his phone into his pocket. “You okay, man?”
“You insolent human! How dare you—” Lucien snapped, then froze when he saw the boy standing before him—his prey’s companion. The boy blinked, startled.
A sweet fragrance enveloped him, dizzying and divine. Lucien’s hunger flared. He realized, too late, that he had revealed his noble vampiric nature.
Silence hung between them.
His prey stood right there. Surrounded by humans, Lucien wondered how best to recover. Why should he—of noble blood—explain himself to such lowly creatures? It should be they who bowed, begged forgiveness, and offered themselves as servants.
Ryan shot Ethan a look, signaling him to grab a seat at the ramen shop, then turned back to Lucien with another apology.
“Sorry again, I was on my phone. Didn’t see you coming in. But it’s packed inside anyway—no seats left.”
“Oh.”
Still intoxicated by that sweet scent, Lucien’s attention shifted entirely to his departing prey. “Foolish human,” he muttered, then turned on his heel and left.
Ryan blinked. “…What?”
Ethan hadn’t walked far when the strange boy blocked his path again, grabbing his arm and pulling him aside.
“What’s your name?” Lucien released him, eyes sweeping over Ethan with a mix of curiosity and critique.
Hmm. Strong arms, broad shoulders, long legs—impressive for a human. A fine physique indeed.
A perfect blood source.
Ethan met the stranger’s arrogant gaze with cool detachment, studying him in return. The boy’s features were refined, but his complexion was deathly pale, his half-long hair adding to an aura of eerie delicacy—sickly, almost unearthly.
Ryan hurried back just in time. Ethan ignored the boy and said, “Let’s go.”
As they walked away, Ryan muttered, “Seriously? The guy called me ‘damn human,’ then ‘foolish’? He’s nuts. Must’ve watched too much anime. What did he say to you?”
He shivered suddenly. “Crap, he’s following us!”
Ethan didn’t turn. He was too hungry to care. Yet again, the stranger blocked their way.
Lucien sneered inwardly. Insolent mortals. He decided to grant his prey one last chance. The other boy—annoying but tolerable—could serve as a blood t****l, perhaps for bathing purposes.
He looked Ethan straight in the eye. “I shall grant you the honor of being near me.”
Ethan stared. Definitely insane.
“What’s your name?” Lucien asked again, then added loftily, “No matter. I’ll give you a new one.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Ryan snapped. “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.”
Ethan had never encountered such a bizarre, pompous approach. Though he was naturally inclined toward men, he wasn’t interested in lunatics. “I don’t need that honor,” he said flatly. “Give it to someone else.”
Lucien froze. In a century of existence, never had a human defied him so. He seethed but dared not act amid the crowd, forced to watch his prey walk away.
That night, a cold winter rain fell, and the temperature plummeted.
After showering, Ethan stepped out of the bathroom to find Ryan still at his desk, gaming. “You’re not leaving?”
“It’s raining. I’m crashing here.” Ryan’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he chatted about weekend hiking plans.
Ethan disliked the cramped dorms and had rented a two-story house nearby since freshman year. Ryan, his only close friend and hometown buddy from middle and high school, often stayed over.
But when it was bedtime, Ethan didn’t hesitate to kick him out. “I’m going to sleep.”
“It’s early! You’re such an old man—wait, dude, look at this!” Ryan spun his laptop around, then began reading aloud when Ethan didn’t move.
“Early this morning at 2 a.m., a violent crime occurred at Phoenix Apartments in West City’s western district. Police are seeking information, offering up to fifty thousand yuan for valuable leads.”
Ethan wasn’t interested in crime reports, but Ryan—a mystery and adventure enthusiast—was thrilled.
A week ago, an unidentified male body had been discovered at a construction site in East Suburb. Details were vague, but Ryan remembered every word.
“No gender listed this time either. You think these cases are connected? Once a week—maybe a serial killer!” Ryan theorized aloud. “Why dump one and bury the other? He’s provoking the police.”
Ethan muttered, “Ask the killer. I wouldn’t know.”
“Exactly! That’s the point!” Ryan continued excitedly.
“Ryan,” Ethan said, pulling the covers over himself. “You’re provoking me. Lights out.”
“Fine, fine.” Ryan took his laptop and grumbled, “You’re like an old man.”
Ethan had never told even Ryan that he’d been plagued by nightmares since childhood—chaotic visions that left him with splitting headaches upon waking. Doctors had been of little help, so he’d disciplined himself into a strict sleep routine. It worked—mostly.
But not tonight.
Minutes crawled by. The sound of rain, instead of soothing him, grew distracting. Wind rattled the windowpane.
He opened his eyes, switched on the light, and sat up—just as the window shuddered violently.
Drawing back the curtains, he glimpsed a dark shadow dart past. The same shadow he’d seen that afternoon.
Moments later, where the shadow had vanished, a small black bat materialized, wings beating in sharp rhythm. Ethan froze.
The bat swooped around the room once, then hovered before him, shrieking shrilly. Its bright, beady eyes glowed with feral light.
Impossible as it seemed, the creature had come through a closed window. And then—before his eyes—it dissolved into smoke, the black mist coalescing into the form of a man.
A moment later, Lucien stood before him.
“Hey, human,” he said coldly. “Let me taste you.”
Ethan recognized him at once—the strange boy from the food street. He said nothing.
Lucien frowned at the lack of fear, his irritation flaring. “This isn’t a trick. If you don’t want to die—”
“I know,” Ethan said calmly. “You’re a vampire.”
Lucien stared, astonished. “You… you’re not afraid of me?”
Of course not. Ethan merely looked down at the shorter vampire, whose proud stance did little to hide his foolishness.
