Chapter 27: Agony

“The Purge Order…”

When those strange yet familiar words entered Sylvie’s ears, her mind went blank—nothing but a buzzing void.

The Purge Order…

A great purge… against blood livestock?

And ordered by the Queen herself…

Her lips trembled slightly. The terrified shaking of the girl in her arms and the vampire’s cold, contemptuous gaze made her feel as though she stood in the center of a massive, churning vortex of blood.

The world spun.

“What kind of joke is this…” After a long moment, her faint voice quavered.

Then, uncontrollably, she screamed.

“What kind of joke!!! I’ve never once heard Master issue such an order! You’re lying to me! Making excuses for your cruel slaughter!!!”

The vampire’s icy slit pupils narrowed slowly, his voice laced with impatience.

“Her Majesty’s commands are not for you to be informed of. You are merely blood livestock—a slightly valuable, lowly, base slave…”

“You should feel fortunate, human. The targets of this purge are the weak, sickly ones—those ‘defective’ specimens unable to reliably provide quality blood.”

“Their existence only wastes Eternal Night City’s precious food and air, yielding next to nothing.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the malnourished, trembling girl in Sylvie’s arms, then across the piled corpses in the alley. His tone remained indifferent.

“This is necessary ‘purification’—removing these useless burdens. The saved resources can better nurture healthy blood providers. This is… for the ‘optimization’ of the entire Penned District.”

His voice echoed in the bloody air.

“Chaos must be quelled. Impurities must be excised. This is the great cleansing. The Queen’s will is law. And you.” He pointed at Sylvie again, tone brooking no argument.

“As Her Majesty’s exclusive blood livestock, protected by the crimson collar, you should understand and obey Her Majesty’s profound intent. Now, put down this defective one. Leave immediately. Do not taint this sacred purification ritual.”

“…Purification… cleansing… defective… specimens…”

Sylvie repeated the cruel words blankly. A wave of despairing cold swept through her body. She stared at the ground, unable to utter another word for a long while.

The vampire regarded her crazed appearance with mere annoyance, spitting two words.

“…In the way.”

In the next moment, he raised his hand and swung casually.

Rip—!!!

The sound of flesh tearing rang out.

Warm liquid splattered across Sylvie’s cheek…

She lowered her head mechanically.

The girl’s face was inches away—that pair of eyes, moments ago brimming with tears and pleas, now stared wide, pupils fully dilated, frozen in emptiness and despair.

Sylvie stared blankly at the cooling body in her arms, at the warm blood splashed on her own cheek.

Hearing seemed stripped away. Vision locked on that frozen face of despair.

The thick metallic stench filling her nose nearly suffocated her. Her stomach roiled violently, yet nothing came up.

The vampire merely glanced at her coldly, tossed a remark, and turned to leave.

“Tch… nothing but a slave.”

Sylvie knelt on the ground, cradling the lifeless corpse like a dead doll herself—frozen for a very, very long time.

Then, as if remembering something, she murmured unconsciously.

“Nia… Lynla…”

“The children!!!”

…

“Hah… hah… hah… hah…”

On familiar streets, Sylvie no longer cared about staying low-profile or hiding. She ran in near-panic along the paths in her memory, racing madly.

She saw… streets and alleys piled with corpses! Fleeing blood livestock hunted down one by one—cruelly reaped by pursuing vampires!

She smelled… the thick, vomit-inducing stench of blood! Madly assaulting her sanity! Her thoughts!

She heard… echoing across Eternal Night City’s skies the brief, piercing death screams! Desperate pleas!

She ran through street after street, familiar corner after corner—praying with each turn for something different, praying that shantytown might be spared.

Her heart pleaded ceaselessly.

Please be safe…

Please, please be safe…

“Nia… Lynla…”

“No… no… no no no!!!”

When she finally burst into that narrow, filthy alley entrance.

Her steps froze once more.

Sylvie’s pupils contracted to pinpricks.

The stone house stood with its door wide open.

Inside, faint yellow candlelight flickered, spilling from the doorway to cast a halo into the deathly dark.

Standing before the door… was a familiar woman’s figure.

Utia.

That vampire who always wore a flippant, teasing smile—one who instinctively made Sylvie feel danger and unease.

Now, she stood quietly before the open stone house door.

The candlelight outlined her tall silhouette and revealed the vast splatters of blood staining her body in the darkness.

In her hand, a dagger—thick liquid slowly sliding down the blade, dripping, dripping onto the ground.

She did not turn. She merely tilted her face slightly, gazing indifferently into the flickering depths of the candlelit room.

Those eyes, usually holding playful mockery, were now inorganic—cold and empty.

Sylvie’s breathing stopped completely.

Following Utia’s gaze, bit by bit, she looked toward the open door. Within her line of sight… fresh blood, not yet fully dried, snaked across the floor.

“…”

In this moment, time, sound, even scent… all senses twisted.

Sylvie’s vision shook violently, blurring. In her ears, only the thunderous pounding of her own heart.

Utia seemed to finally notice the presence behind her. She turned—extremely slowly.

When she saw Sylvie standing there, staring blankly at her, a fleeting flicker of panic crossed Utia’s face—quickly buried beneath her usual ice.

She spoke, voice unnaturally calm.

“Leave this place, little one… You don’t want to see what’s inside.”

Sylvie’s body swayed. She staggered forward a few steps, voice hoarse and faint.

“Why…”

“Why… do this…”

“Answer me!!! Utia!!!”

She lifted her head. Tear-filled eyes fixed on Utia’s expressionless face. Her scream echoed in the empty, deep alley.

Utia was silent for a moment, then replied calmly.

“Because I am the Queen’s enforcer… Like those vampires—a killer. The Queen issued the order, and I carry it out… That is all.”

Utia’s answer offered no explanation, no excuse—not even a ripple of emotion.

“Because I am the Queen’s enforcer…”

“That is all.”

Yes—how simple, how reasonable. In Eternal Night City’s laws, that was reason enough.

No need for hatred. No need for motive. Not even emotion required. Just command… and execution.

“…Heh… hehe…” A low, choked laugh squeezed from Sylvie’s throat, mixed with sobs and despair.

“Nia… Lynla…” She murmured, voice like a dream. Dim eyes fixed past Utia on that door.

She shuffled forward unsteadily, like a soulless madwoman. Vision blurred—world, tears, blood swirling and twisting.

Her mouth still unconsciously repeated those names.

Utia watched her broken, lost state. Something complex flashed swiftly in those icy slit pupils.

This was… the first time she had seen Sylvie like this.

This… on the verge of shattering completely—collapse and despair.

“Enough.” Her voice remained calm. She extended a hand, gently pushing—the swaying girl toppled to the ground.

Yet murmurs still spilled from her lips.

“Let me… inside… Nia… Lynla…”

“They’ve fallen asleep.” Utia looked down at her from above.

“Deeply… asleep.”

“Go back where you belong, little one… Sometimes, not knowing is a form of ‘mercy’.”

With that, she no longer looked at the girl slumped on the ground. She turned, stepped into the room, raised a hand—and with a creak, slowly closed the door.

Separating Sylvie… from her world of despair.