Seamus narrowed his eyes, irritation prickling at the back of his neck. His father was too close again.

He elbowed him lightly, but Andrew didn't even flinch, he just kept scanning the campus with those sharp eyes.

That only made Seamus more suspicious.

'What the hell is he trying to pull now?' he thought, slipping out of reach.

"Whatever, Dad. I'm late. Bye."

He strode off, glancing over his shoulder one last time. Andrew hadn't moved. His eyes were still darting across the grounds, sharp and restless, like a predator scenting prey.

'He always bragged about his instincts,animal-like, he said. But if that were true, Mom would still be alive.' Bitterness crept into Seamus's thoughts. 'She's gone. So his instincts can't be that good.'

Even so, he was still cautious. 'System, scan the area for vampires.'

[I can't do that. The host does not have that skill.]

[At most, I can identify vampires who are directly in front of you.]

Seamus raked a hand through his hair, frustration roughening his breath. 'He's just wrong. Nothing will happen.'

After all, this was the same man who had handed him over to Velstrath, knowing full well he might end up as their meal.

And he was still angered by it. He thought Andrew would never be the worst of a father, but he proved him wrong. 'What the hell's wrong with his mind?'

Not even animals would give their children to predators just because it was 'saver' or because they were wearing a dress and lipstick. They were inherently a predator.

'But why did he act so in love around Isolde? Was it all to deceive me? Or to deceive her…'

The thought trailed off as another name surfaced, Damien, from his dream, the strongest vampire hunter. And his family, all of them changing their names…

'Could it be—'

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it.

"Seamus, what are you doing here?"

He turned. Diane stood behind him, dressed in her usual ouji style: black frilled top, short pants, and high boots. She always looked like she had stepped out of a magazine.

All eyes were on her, and by extension, on him. He could feel the shift of their auras—the boys' jealousy, the girls' curiosity—pressing against his skin until it was almost suffocating.

"Let's just go to class," he muttered, steering her toward the stairwell to the third floor.

The University of Bork wasn't large. The old stone building smelled faintly of chalk and varnish.

It was the only campus in town, and Seamus was still in his first semester of management, though finals were already looming.

That made the arrival of a new student even stranger, but Isolde was rich; she could do whatever she wanted.

They slipped into class. Everything proceeded as usual, but Diane clung to his arm in a way that made his shoulders tense.

Her face reminded him too much of Viviane, and from the glances he caught, everyone else had noticed it too.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that?" Diane tilted her head, staring at Seamus while he bit into his sandwich.

He paused mid-bite, one brow lifting. Was she seriously unaware, or just playing dumb? "I don't know. Maybe because you resemble someone… like your sister?"

"Ah, right. I do look like her."

She rested her elbows on the table, cupping her face with both hands, eyes wide and innocent.

"Darling, why don't we have a horror movie date today, just the two of us? But if you so much as glance at another woman, I'll kill you."

Seamus choked on his food. The way she said it—the playful threat, the cadence of her voice—was Viviane down to the smallest mannerism.

"That's what you call a resemblance," he muttered, recovering.

Diane's expression went flat again as she turned to the window. Outside, the sky was its usual dull grey.

"Hm… this town is as boring as ever. I still don't understand why Mother likes it here," she said. "I'd rather be hunting scavengers in the city."

"Aren't you anti-tech? Does city life really suit you?" he asked with a small laugh.

Diane scoffed. "Of course. I love how nonchalant and empathy-less people are there. They don't even blink when they see me beating someone in the street, they're too wrapped up in their own worlds. Makes everything easier."

Her casual tone sent a chill down Seamus's spine. It was true, people rarely cared about each other. Even a father like Andrew had thrown his son into the lions' den.

"Fair enough," he said. "But isn't hunting in a small town easier?"

"Hmph! Not really. Someone's been playing with them like dolls… I hate games that require me to think. I just want to punch, slash, and be done."

"Okay…"

None of this surprised him. Diane wasn't cryptic or manipulative, she was blunt. That was her nature.

He steered the conversation elsewhere since his father's words kept bothering him since morning.

"Diane… Can you sense any scavengers around?"

Her red irises widened. She leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm not sure. But the atmosphere on this campus is wrong. I can feel it, but I don't know where."

Seamus's hand tightened around his phone. 'So Dad didn't lie after all.'

He pulled it from his pocket to message David.

But before he could finish typing, a scream ripped through the cafeteria. A man stumbled inside, blood spraying from a wound at his neck like a fountain. His hands clamped over it, eyes wide with terror.

"R-run!" he gasped.

It was already too late. A scavenger burst in behind him, launching itself onto his back and tearing at his throat. He collapsed with a gurgle.

Chaos erupted. Students screamed, bolting for the rear exits, but more scavengers poured in through the front doors, dragging down anyone they could reach. Tables overturned, trays clattered, the air filled with panic.

"What the hell!" Seamus snapped his phone shut, fired off the message to David with his thumb, and stepped forward, bracing himself to fight.

"Ah, finally! Something fun is happening!" Diane's grin stretched from ear to ear, her eyes gleaming with manic delight.

Reaching behind herself, she let out a low groan as her fingers dug into her own back. The motion was grotesque as he could see vividly how her spine moved up from her back, but her smile never faltered.

With a wet sound she drew out her own spine, vertebra by vertebra, until she held the entire column in her hands.

The ivory bones lengthened and twisted, reshaping into a massive scythe. Its shaft was a segmented spine; its blade, a huge curve of pale muscle-like tissue, longer than Diane was tall.

In a blur she vanished from Seamus's side and reappeared in front of the first scavenger. One clean sweep of the scythe cut him in two, and his Vitalis Core shattered instantly.

It was Diane's second-stage Bloodstyle evolution, Osseus Tyrannis: Core Reaper.

The form allowed her mutant weapon to destroy a Vitalis Core in a single slash, provided the cut was long or deep enough.

The technique burned through her stamina, draining SP with every strike, but against weak prey it was devastating.

The scavengers were nothing but fodder. Diane carved through them as though they were paper dolls.

Seamus just stood there, momentarily dumbstruck. 'Damn… I don't think I need to do anything,' he thought, watching her whirl into the crowd.

Laughing like a madwoman, Diane spun her scythe in wide arcs, a deadly dance of ivory and muscle.

Every sweep split another scavenger in half; their cores burst, and rotten blood sprayed across the floor, walls, even the ceiling.

By the time she stopped moving, the cafeteria was painted black and the only sound left was her breathless giggle.

***

That morning, David was called by the authorities to the University of Bork's sorority and fraternity houses.

He drove as fast as he could, Dylan slumped in the passenger seat with a sour expression and a brutal hangover, Maria in the back seat handing him a hangover pill, and Matthew riding silently beside him.

David barely acknowledged them. His gut told him this was a Lady Crow move, and he was proven right the moment he reached the dormitory.

"Damn… this is a mess…" Dylan muttered as they stepped inside. The rest of them only nodded.

What was supposed to be a fraternity house looked more like a slaughterhouse. Rotten black blood streaked the floors and walls; chunks of human flesh lay scattered like discarded meat.

Dylan gagged and stumbled back outside to vomit again.

"When did you find this?" David asked one of the officers.

Behind him, Matthew and Maria were already pulling on latex gloves, preparing to examine the scene.

"About two hours ago," the officer stammered. "Protocol says we notify you immediately."

"Good call," David said, patting the man's shoulder.

"Our forensic team says the scene isn't fresh," the officer added. "Some of this black liquid has been here for a week. Other traces appeared tonight."

"Right…" David's jaw tightened. "We're already behind."

He scanned the room, mind racing. They were moving in the shadows while his team sat in silence, again.

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