"Cough... fuck... that bitch."

Using the walls as support to drag himself down the hallway, Sunbringer coughed up a mouthful of blood, his already pale face growing even paler. He had underestimated the Association—now he was facing the consequences of their cunninness.

"Poison."

For the past day or two, he had felt unnaturally worn out. It all started after the replacement for the girl he'd broken arrived. She was beautiful, but as a vampire, beauty wasn't what he sought—it was the taste of her blood. Yet, something about her scent had been irresistible, stripping away the last shred of his restraint. Ignoring the abnormality, he had sunk his fangs into her neck without hesitation.

Just like its fragrance, her blood was intoxicating—the finest delicacy he'd ever tasted. But he should've realized it then. "That bitch's blood was poisoned"

Someone had tampered with it, knowing she'd become his next plaything. For days, he had feasted on her, his regeneration masking the poison's effects—until now. The toxins had finally accumulated enough to cripple him.

"Alchemy..."

Gritting his teeth, he barely managed to mutter the word before a sharp, piercing object stabbed into his back.

"Arghhh!"

A pained groan escaped him as he clenched his jaw, blood smearing his lips. Instinctively, he channeled mana through his body, halting the blade's advance before it could fully impale his back and penetrated his ribs.

"Tsk."

An annoyed click of tongue sounded behind him. Veins bulged along his arms as his claws elongated, sharpening to a lethal edge. With a violent twist, he shattered the blade lodged in his back—along with the vial of poison hidden within it—before lashing out with a sweeping kick.

His attacker, a slender figure cloaked in shadows, leaped back to evade the strike. But Sunbringer wasn't done. His claws flashed in a deadly arc, only to meet twin daggers with crystalline blades.

Clang—!

The impact sent sparks flying as he effortlessly deflected the daggers. He lunged for the assassin, but she was already retreating, her movements fluid.

"No, you—argh!"

His heart convulsed with searing pain, his outstretched hand missing its mark by inches. Seizing the opening, the assassin darted back, putting distance between them.

Rage burned through him, overriding the poison's agony. With a roar, he gave chase, his sprint shaking the floor beneath him. Flames erupted around his bloodied form as he thrust his palms forward, unleashing a barrage of condensed fireballs.

The assassin pivoted mid-stride, her feet leaving the ground as she swung her daggers in a dazzling arc. A brilliant flash erupted—the fireballs shattered, their essence absorbed into the crystalline blades.

"Prism daggers!"

Sunbringer's eyes narrowed. Mirror shards—rare materials mined beyond the human continent—were known for absorbing and storing mana. The Mage-Tech Foundation had weaponized their properties: apply enough force, and they'd release everything they'd absorbed in a catastrophic burst.

Realizing her intent, he kicked off the ground, lunging to stop her before she could trigger the daggers' stored energy.

"Hehe~"

But her laughter was his only warning. With a smirk, she crushed the daggers in her grip—and hurled the fragments at him.

"Shit—!"

A blinding explosion of raw mana engulfed half the floor. The ground ruptured, walls crumbled, and windows shattered as the violent release of energy consumed everything in its path.

When the dust settled, Sunbringer stood amidst the wreckage, his body charred black. His slit pupils burned through the haze, locking onto his assailant.

"Show yourself, brat."

The dust stirred. A dagger shot toward him—then another, aimed at his throat. With a flick of his wrist, flames trailed his movement as he deflected the first and caught the second mid-air.

He tossed them aside and charged.

Emerging from the dust, he was met with a sharp jab to his face, sending him stumbling back, blood dripping from his nose. Wiping it away, he glared at the figure before him—now free of her burnt cloak, fists raised.

"You..."

"We should be equal now."

"Equal?"** he snarled. "You call poisoning and trickery equal? Where's your honor?"

"Honor, eh?" She cracked her neck, unbothered. "Never heard of it." She added with a taunting smirk.

Grim didn't play by those rules. Hunt the target. Kill the target. Simple.

But after three sleepless nights, a dead prostitute on her conscience, and endless frustration, she owed him more than a quick death.

No—she'd make it slow and very painful.

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