Unique Gate [11]
1415 Words
The vampire’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, pressing Zenon harder against the cold stone wall. His breathing was strained, his vision darkening at the edges.
The Gate Boss floated lazily above the ballroom floor, his expression one of mild curiosity, as if examining a rare specimen. His crimson gaze flickered with something unreadable.
"You know," he mused, "I had expected more from you."
He gestured vaguely at Zenon’s pinned form. "Your kind… they never reveal their true strength so easily."
Zenon forced himself to stay silent, his lungs burning for air.
The vampire lord’s smirk deepened. "I’ve seen it before—humans pretending to be weak, hiding behind frailty, only to strike when the time is right. It’s amusing, really. A desperate attempt to level the playing field."
Zenon’s mind raced, trying to grasp his meaning. Pretending to be weak? What was he talking about?
The vampire holding him down let out a low growl, pressing harder. The stone behind Zenon cracked.
"Enough."
The Gate Boss’s voice was smooth, but the weight behind it was absolute. Immediately, the pressure eased, and Zenon sucked in a ragged breath.
"You're different from the others I’ve killed," the Gate Boss continued, stepping closer. "The way you move, the way you think—it's not the instinct of prey. It’s experience."
He stopped just a few feet away, his red eyes gleaming.
"You’re holding back, aren’t you?"
Zenon stiffened.
The Gate Boss chuckled. "Oh, you play the part well—struggling, running, feigning exhaustion. But I’ve hunted enough of your kind to know the truth." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"You’re waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment to unleash your real power."
Zenon’s pulse pounded in his ears. He wasn’t pretending—this was his current limit. But the Gate Boss’s words carried certainty, as if he were speaking from experience.
And that meant…
He thinks I’m stronger than I really am.
The realization sent a jolt through Zenon’s mind. This wasn’t just an assumption—the Gate Boss genuinely believed he was hiding something.
What is he thinking? He can clearly sense that I’m weaker, yet from the way he speaks, he’s convinced I’m hiding my true power?
Zenon’s mind raced, trying to unravel the meaning behind the Gate Boss’s words.
Is it possible that, in his world, humans conceal their strength?
That would explain his certainty. If he had encountered humans before—ones who deliberately suppressed their power until the perfect moment to strike—then he would naturally assume Zenon was doing the same.
Zenon barely suppressed a bitter chuckle. If only that were true.
He wasn't holding back. This body, this power—it wasn’t what he once had. He wasn’t some hidden monster waiting to reveal his strength at the last second.
But the Gate Boss believed he was.
At this moment, Zenon was certain—he was going to die here.
He had been foolish. Deluded into thinking he could carve out a new life, free from the shadow of the Seven Kings of Hell. He had dared to believe that fate had granted him another chance.
But no.
This world was just as merciless as the last.
The Gate Boss loomed over him, crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "What’s wrong? Have you realized it yet?" His voice was smooth, almost gentle, but laced with condescension. "That no matter how much you run… you will always be prey?"
Zenon clenched his teeth, his body screaming in pain, his mind racing through every possible escape route. But none existed. Not this time.
Not against an enemy like this.
Compared to everyone in the room, Zenon was nothing more than a bug in a lion’s den.
No matter how much he struggled, the gap between him and them was undeniable.
For some reason, he still couldn't fully draw out his power. He had a theory—it was being restricted by the System. Perhaps once he reached a certain level, more of it would return.
Over the past few weeks, he had noticed a pattern. Upon reaching D-Rank, only a fraction of his original strength had resurfaced. But was that truly the case? He still needed to verify it, to understand how to reclaim everything he had lost.
In this new life, he had occasionally read fantasy novels for entertainment. Some of their protagonists unlocked their hidden strength in moments of desperation, as if it had been lying dormant, waiting for the perfect moment to awaken.
But Zenon brushed that thought aside.
That wasn’t his reality.
He wasn’t some chosen hero with a conveniently sealed power waiting to be unleashed.
I was foolish.
But… even if this is where it ends, at least I got to live without their influence. Even if just for a little while.
Now completely disinterested, the Gate Boss finally turned his back on Zenon.
He had expected something more.
Someone more.
But he had been wrong.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait again,” he murmured, his tone laced with disappointment.
The reason for his initial interest was simple—his past experiences with humans. A history the vampires wished to unlock, yet one that was forever sealed into their immortal minds.
As he walked away, he uttered something under his breath, a whisper that reached Zenon’s ears.
Words that triggered memories.
Pain he wanted to forget.
“What a shame. I got excited for a moment when a peculiar human entered our domain. Here I thought you were one of them—the Devil-Possessed. But I suppose you’re just a plain and simple… human.”
Zenon’s body stiffened.
The Devil-Possessed.
That name—it wasn’t the first time he had heard it.
Memories from his past life surged forward like a flood, images of twisted rituals, frenzied worshippers, and men who wielded power beyond human comprehension. The Seven Kings of Hell had many servants, but among them, the Devil-Possessed were different.
They weren’t mere followers.
They were vessels.
Zenon’s breath came in ragged gasps as his mind struggled to push the memories away, to bury them where they belonged. But the Gate Boss’s words had struck something deep within him—something raw and unresolved.
The vampire stopped mid-step, as if sensing Zenon’s reaction. His lips curled into an amused smirk. “Oh?” He turned slightly, his crimson gaze locking onto Zenon once more. “You recognize that name, don’t you?”
Zenon didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
The Gate Boss took slow, deliberate steps back toward him. “That reaction… That silence… I’ve seen it before.” His voice was like silk, smooth yet suffocating. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps you are more interesting than I thought.”
Zenon clenched his fists. His body still refused to move properly, the weight of exhaustion and injuries dragging him down. But he couldn’t let this continue.
If the Gate Boss truly believed he was connected to the Devil-Possessed, things could take a turn for the worse.
The vampire crouched down slightly, tilting his head as if studying a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “Tell me, human… Have you met one before?”
Zenon remained silent, but his heartbeat betrayed him.
The Gate Boss chuckled. “You have.”
A cold sensation crawled up Zenon’s spine.
“You must have seen them firsthand. The ones who dance on the edge of mortality, consumed by something far greater than themselves. Ah… but you don’t carry their stench. If anything, you reek of something else entirely.”
His gaze darkened.
“Something… out of place.”
Zenon’s mind raced. The longer this conversation dragged on, the more dangerous it became. He needed to find a way to escape—but how?
The Gate Boss was toying with him now, but that could change in an instant.
Then, unexpectedly, the vampire stood up straight.
“Ah, but no matter. If you were truly one of them, you wouldn’t be on the brink of death so easily.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll leave you to your fate.”
Zenon barely had time to process the words before the Gate Boss turned away once more, his interest fading just as suddenly as it had sparked.
But even as he walked away, the damage had been done.
The Devil-Possessed.
Zenon hadn’t heard that name in this world before.
But now, he knew.
They also existed in other dimensions too.
- Writer
