In a shadowy corner where the light barely dared to tread, a young man stood cloaked in black.
His dark garments, thick as the heart of night, swallowed him whole, leaving only a ghostly outline that danced in the faint glow of the alley.
His face was a mystery, hidden from the world’s curious gaze.
His boots tapped softly against the cobblestones—one, two—a steady, deliberate rhythm, clear as a heartbeat in the stillness.
Another figure emerged, a young man striding with purpose.
“What’s this?” he demanded, suspicion sharp in his voice.
“Wasn’t the contact supposed to be a woman?”
The shadowed figure tilted his head, confusion threading his words as he replied, but the newcomer pressed forward, undeterred.
A sudden chill slithered through the air.
“You’re not him!” the cloaked man hissed, lurching backward.
But the space around him warped, and in a blink, he stood face-to-face with the stranger.
A wet shunk shattered the silence.
A dagger plunged into the young man’s throat, stealing his voice forever.
His body crumpled, a black box slipping from his grasp as his life ebbed away.
Lin Luo spared the box no glance.
He reached into his pocket, drew a tissue, and began wiping the blood from his dagger with calm precision.
He was a bounty hunter, a man who took any job that paid enough to sate his needs.
But that was only half the tale.
In another life, Lin Luo had been a legendary mage, a weaver of arcane wonders.
That story, though, belonged to a distant past.
In his first life, a twist of fate—or perhaps a cosmic jest—had flung him from a dreary commute into a world brimming with magic and strange races.
Driven by passion (or, truth be told, a streak of youthful folly), he rose to become an eighth-tier legendary mage, second only to one.
Then, for reasons shrouded in mystery, he fell.
Reborn as a common boy in a quiet town of the Lanos Empire, he was raised by a gruff blacksmith.
Yet, with the arcane mastery of his former life, Lin Luo carved himself into a bounty hunter whose name struck fear across the land.
Crack!
A sharp sound sliced through the quiet, jarring Lin Luo’s senses.
He turned slowly, his eyes settling on a figure in the dim light.
She was breathtaking, a girl whose beauty seemed to pull the air from the world.
Her skin glowed like snow kissed by moonlight, her nose delicate, her lips a vivid red, blooming like a rose at dawn.
Her hair, a rare silver-white, spilled over her shoulders, shimmering faintly as though woven from moonbeams.
Her black robe hugged her form, tracing a graceful silhouette while concealing just enough to spark curiosity about what lay hidden.
But her eyes—crimson, piercing, and unnatural—held his attention most.
Claire Lynn stared at the black-clad boy, her mind churning with one thought: her deal had just crumbled to dust.
Thud!
Lin Luo kicked the black box toward her.
“Take it and go,” he said, voice cold as steel.
“I’ll act like this never happened.”
Perhaps the deal wasn’t entirely lost.
Claire said nothing, stooping to pick up the box.
She watched the strange boy walk away without a glance back, and she had no urge to stir trouble.
After all, she’d gotten what she came for.
If Lin Luo hadn’t killed that man, she would have done it herself.
But then, the air pulsed with a violent tremor.
A flash of steel, swift as a wraith, pressed against Claire’s throat.
The dagger’s edge bit into her skin, and a thin ribbon of dark blood bloomed across her pale neck, stark and vivid, like a twisted flower unfurling.
A glint of amusement flickered in Claire’s crimson eyes before she sank to the ground.
“Sorry, miss,” Lin Luo said, his voice flat.
He pulled another tissue from his pocket and began cleaning his dagger.
“Anyone who sees me work has to die.”
It was routine, nothing more.
He needed to grow stronger, fast, to face the shadowy crisis he knew loomed ahead.
Lin Luo drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and reaching inward.
The magical energy within him roared like a tidal wave, surging through his veins with a faint quiver.
With a thought, he pushed it outward, and the air shimmered.
A cube-like object, aglow with eerie light, took shape before him.
An alchemical artifact: the Spatial Cube, master of space itself.
“After this job, I’ll need to lie low for a while,” he murmured.
A third-tier mage, armed with his past life’s knowledge and alchemical tools, he could challenge fifth-tier mages.
That was why he’d become a terror in these parts.
But he had other plans.
The blacksmith who’d raised him wanted to send him to a nearby magic academy—a place where he, once an eighth-tier legend, would study spells he’d forgotten long ago.
Still, Lin Luo didn’t resist.
He was ready to leave this town.
Lingering too long invited discovery.
As the old saying went, those who walked by the river couldn’t avoid wet shoes.
He scanned the area, ensuring no one else lurked nearby, then stepped into the dark alley.
The walls, patched with dark moss, gleamed faintly under the sickly streetlights.
A voice, soft and taunting, stopped him cold. “Little brother… killing a girl like that? Not very kind, is it?”
Her warm breath brushed his ear.
The Spatial Cube fell, unfurling a shimmering barrier around them.
Lin Luo whirled, stabbing backward, but a powerful grip locked his wrist, pinning him in place.
He switched the dagger to his other hand and thrust forward.
The blade slipped through a spatial rift, reappearing behind Claire and sinking into her.
Caught off guard, she released him, and Lin Luo sprang back, his eyes fixed on her.
“This alchemical trinket’s got some charm,” Claire said, a spark of interest in her voice.
“But to think you’d actually strike such a radiant young lady like me!”
Lin Luo’s gaze darted to her neck.
The wound he’d dealt was gone, vanished without a trace.
Her crimson eyes, sharp fangs, and uncanny healing painted a clear picture.
“You’re… a vampire.”