Rumble—
Rusted iron chains were pulled up, the sharp screech of metal friction echoing in the damp, dark dungeon.
The air was filled with the foul stench of blood, mold, and despair mixed together.
Several vampires descended the stairs, one of them wearing a white noble uniform. They didn’t head into the dungeon but stood on either side, bowing their heads with respectful expressions, as if awaiting something. One of them said deferentially.
“Your Majesty the Queen, the captured ‘rat’ is just ahead.”
Click… click… click…
The crisp, rhythmic sound of heels striking stone steps came unhurriedly from the dim stairs above.
The vampire guards standing solemnly on both sides adopted even more deferential postures, as if lightening their breaths.
First emerging from the darkness was a swaying skirt hem, followed by Klal’s crimson figure slowly fully revealing itself from the shadows.
She gazed indifferently ahead.
In the cage, a man was suspended in midair by thick black iron chains, the cold links nearly embedding into his flesh. His body was crisscrossed with hideous, terrifying whip marks and bruises, with scarcely a patch of intact skin.
Dirty blood seeped from the wounds, dripping onto the filthy ground with faint sounds.
In Klal’s eyes, there was no mercy—only growing colder.
“Open the door,” she commanded faintly.
“Yes.”
The vampire didn’t hesitate, taking out a key to unlock the cell, then standing aside deferentially with head bowed once more.
She stepped forward slowly, stopping in front of the broken man, her crimson skirt hem dragging on the filthy ground, yet she paid it no mind.
“Name.” She asked once.
A hoarse, strange laugh came from the captive’s throat. Then, he struggled to lift his head, staring fixedly at Klal with his one eye that could still open.
“…I told you… many times… I won’t… tell you damned… beasts… anything…”
Upon hearing this, Klal not only didn’t get angry but revealed a mocking, cruel smile.
“Quite spirited… I like that about you humans… Clearly fragile like insects, yet always putting on this unyielding facade, as if it could change anything.”
She tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes narrowing with a bone-chilling coldness.
“You didn’t really think vampires are all fools, did you? Humans’ little tricks are laughable and pathetic…”
She idly toyed with a strand of her silver hair in front of her, speaking unhurriedly in a mocking tone.
“Suddenly launching attacks on three small-scale penned districts to divert attention, thinking we’d panic? That we’d urgently summon the ‘Sixteen Blood Overseers’ to reclaim them? Then quietly send so many rats to infiltrate my other penned districts to steal things? Heh…”
Klal scoffed disdainfully, looking at the human once more with eyes nearly filled with pity.
“Truly inferior tactics—really fitting for you humans.”
The man’s breathing clearly faltered for an instant.
Though he immediately clenched his teeth, trying to mask it with the remaining stubbornness and anger on his face, his trembling eyes still betrayed the panic in his heart at that moment.
Klal’s expression darkened a few degrees more.
“Tell me, human… What exactly are you going to such great lengths to find?”
The man kept his lips tightly sealed, veins bulging on his forehead, the fear in his expression nearly overflowing—even his breathing became rapid and disordered—but he still refused to speak, even unto death.
Klal’s all-seeing gaze… like countless sharp needles piercing into his nerves, already taut to the limit.
“Don’t want to say? Fine.” Klal raised an eyebrow slightly, seeming unsurprised. She stepped back half a pace, her tone becoming light and airy again, yet carrying deeper chill.
She casually extended her hand, calling without even looking.
“…Tianna.”
“Yes.”
The noble behind her stepped forward, pulling something from behind and placing it deferentially in Klal’s hand.
And when the man saw what that thing was, his pupils contracted in shock and terror.
It was a… syringe, an exquisite one made entirely of metal.
It was stained with blood, with an indicator light on one side of the barrel—though it was already shattered.
If the syringe had already been obtained by them, then the other companions who infiltrated…
“Of course, they’re already dead.”
Klal seemed to have seen through his inner fear, directly answering.
Her pale fingers toyed with the metal syringe flickering with faint red light, her crimson eyes fixed on the man’s face as it suddenly collapsed.
“You humans always like to tinker with these odd little gadgets.” She held the syringe up to her eye, examining it through the dim light.
“Unfortunately, your companions were too careless—or rather… too weak.”
The man trembled violently all over, not from physical pain, but from complete mental collapse.
His companions’ deaths, the mission’s exposure, the crucial locator falling into enemy hands… All hope seemed severed in this moment.
He opened his mouth, a whimpering strange sound coming from his throat, yet he couldn’t form a complete sentence.
His panicked gaze stared blankly at his own blood dripping on the ground, swallowed, then lifted his head, managing to spit out a few words after a long while.
“I said… can you… not kill me…”
Klal’s eyes narrowed slightly, the smile at her lips growing stronger.
“As long as you tell me everything I want to know, then, of course… Hehehe…”
…
Meanwhile, within Eternal Night City.
“Obedience… service… providing value—all for the sake of continuing to breathe, continuing to ‘live.’ To choose death for a mission… I don’t understand.”
Sylvie’s brows furrowed, carrying deep confusion, incomprehension, and a measure of inexplicable pain.
“That’s why you’ve always been penned here,” Dill’s voice lowered.
“Because you’ve been taught, tamed, to believe that living is everything, that obedience is the only value… Just like those penned livestock.”
That’s why they’re called “blood livestock”…
Sylvie listened dazedly, the bewilderment on her face not dissipating but growing even denser.
Why… do we think living is everything…
Her thin lips parted slightly, a whisper so light that Dill couldn’t hear spilled from her lips.
“Because just living already takes all our strength…”
Silent quiet spread…
After a moment’s rest, Dill propped herself against the wall and actually stood up shakily. She staggered, barely steadying herself, ignoring Sylvie squatting in front of her, and walked step by step in one direction.
“Where are you going?” Sylvie turned her head to ask.
“I… can’t… keep hiding here.” She said without looking back, her voice extremely hoarse.
“Time… is running out. I must… go destroy…”
Destroy the instrument for probing the “container.”
Once the syringe is found by those vampires, their subsequent plans would face great risks.
Of course, she wouldn’t say this out loud, just ignoring Sylvie’s questions and stubbornly continuing forward.
“Your wounds are severe,” the girl’s voice came from behind.
“I know that without you telling me.”
Sylvie’s lips moved almost imperceptibly, as if wanting to say something, but ultimately no sound came out—she just watched her disappear around the corner…