Did You Rock It?
Inn's arm was severed clean through. He rolled sideways and vanished into a blind corner. Given the nature of that revolver they called Beast, sustained fire was out of the question — but its destructive power was still monstrous. As long as a vampire hunter was packing something like that, charging him head-on was pure insanity.
"What the hell? Why's he pulling back all of a sudden?"
Se-gun checked his revolver while staring into the alley where Inn had disappeared. That was when it came.
Krrrrrk.
Something scraped against stone. Se-gun spun around.
"Urgh!"
For heaven's sake! He snapped Noctis D. Spatha up and blocked the mass of blades hurtling toward him. The creature looked like a giant lobster bristling with blades; it had sprinted across the ground at a ferocious clip, then leapt to head height and come crashing down. Se-gun reflexively raised Beast to intercept.
Kang!
The instant it slammed into the revolver, the thing latched on — then began climbing the gun, intent on cutting through Se-gun's arm.
"Damn it all! What the hell is this monster?!"
Se-gun flung Beast aside and drew Noctis D. Spatha. Of course he knew what he was dealing with. Inn's severed flesh had mutated and come after him… which meant—
Krrrrrk!
Something was climbing the stairs, scraping asphalt and concrete as it came. Se-gun swung Noctis D. Spatha at the piece of Inn that had taken Beast, but the thing mutated again — reshaping itself into a hand — and aimed the revolver straight back at him.
"Ugh!"
The hammer slammed against the cylinder. Had a round been chambered, Se-gun would have been dead on the spot. Luckily, Beast was empty. He charged forward, drove the black blade through Inn's flesh, and wrenched the revolver free. In that same breath, a swarm of blades that had finished climbing the stairs came rushing at him.
"Grrh. The Juk-yo line really is pure filth!"
Se-gun held Noctis D. Spatha level and retreated in a blur. His feet never left the ground, yet he slid backward as if gliding — like a ghost. Even so, Inn's flesh closed the distance at terrifying speed.
"Hah!"
With a shout he swung. The stroke was pure instant — a flash of black darkness carving an arc that murdered even the wind. Everything within its radius was cleaved in two, spraying blood as it fell. But the moment that single-breath sword stroke ended, the remaining pieces of Inn's body hurled themselves at him.
A razor-sharp blade raked Se-gun's face and stabbed for his chest. Another leapt onto his leg, slicing muscle and greedily drinking the blood that welled up.
Bang!
Unbowed, Se-gun detonated the short shell loaded into his knuckle, blasting the things off him, rolled free, and poured fire from the USAS-12 slung across his back. Even so, the creatures refused to go down to bullets. The bastard had shrugged off gunfire even in human form; apparently size made no difference.
"God damn it! At this rate—!"
Dragging his blood-soaked body, Se-gun fell back. His bike came into view and he sprinted for it — but after Inn's earlier attack, it was no longer something a person could ride. There was a hole punched clean through the fuel tank.
"Urgh! What the hell did you do to my baby?!"
In that, Se-gun might have resembled Silvester. His reaction, however, was different. Compared to a Corvette, a YZ-125 was cheap junk. He kicked the bike to life, locked the throttle open with blue tape, and sent it roaring straight at Inn's flesh. Of course, as long as Inn retained any intelligence, he knew exactly what Se-gun intended. But Se-gun showed no mercy — he unloaded the shotgun into his own bike.
"Farewell, fragment of my youth!"
KWAANG!
The bike erupted in flame, a pillar of fire surging skyward! Though what any of that had to do with youth was anyone's guess.
There was a legend in the city.
A jet-black sports car that appeared only at night! Its sleek, streamlined body looked like a supersonic jet, and its speed rivaled one. Nothing that ran these roads dared claim equality with that legend!
Ah! And the man behind the wheel was a lone wolf who belonged to no one — long silver hair, a face so beautiful even men fell for it, and the truth of his identity was that he was a priest!
"…Yeah, no. There's no way something like that exists."
Kim Seong-ju shook his head hard. The president of the inline-skating club — a man whose lifelong hobby had been teasing people — snickered and tossed him a can of soda. The two of them stood on a stretch of guardrail lit by a single streetlamp, looking out over the woods.
"Mmm. Still, all kinds of rumors have been going around lately. Shotgun casings and rifle brass turning up in the streets, residue from guns and explosives nobody can explain, bloodstains here and there, people vanishing…"
"Hmm. Public unease, in other words? Ah, the ruling party must be having a hell of a time."
"Kid, did you even vote?"
The club president's lecture started with the usual rant about kids these days and wound its way to the moral that everyone absolutely had to cast a ballot. Seong-ju muttered inwardly that he had voted, but there was no point saying so to a man like this. Just then a car shot past them. The metallic-pearl paint job was a little old-fashioned, but the flowing curves of the body were elegant and full of character.
"Whoa! A L-L-Lamborghini Miura!"
"Huh? Is it?"
Sure enough, a Lamborghini Miura flashed by. It was moving so fast that the wind snapped in its wake. Hard on its heels came another sports car — pure black.
"Ah, a Firebird?"
"Firebird? Hey! Just because it's black and flat doesn't make it a Firebird!"
To be fair, the Pontiac Firebird was well known even in Korea and surprisingly common. And at night, identifying a car was nearly impossible. What was clear was that the vehicle now screaming toward them was moving at a far more terrifying speed — and then it flung itself at the guardrail.
"Shh!"
Both men scrambled over the rail at once. The black sports car that had just hurled its body into the turn shrieked through a drift and exited the corner clean.
"Good God! A four-wheel drift?!"
"That… that's what that was?"
Seong-ju stared at the awestruck president. The older man kept nodding furiously as he shouted.
"Ah… that, that was really something! You saw it, right? You saw it?!"
"Uh, yeah… it definitely drifted out of the corner. But a four-wheel drift?"
"It means the front wheels are sliding too! The fronts went into the turn and it rotated clean — just now!"
"…And the driver had silver hair, if I remember right."
"Whoa! What a sight!"
The president said it while dribbling coffee — not blood. It was canned coffee, so there was no chance of mistaking it for the real thing. Still, looking at the man now, Seong-ju could tell he was in a mental state where throwing himself in front of an oncoming car would not have been surprising. If cars were living creatures, this was the condition in which a man could violate one with his eyes alone. Oof. That was scary in its own way.
"This is worrying."
Seong-ju muttered the words as he watched the cars race on ahead.
Se-gun pulled a Beast cartridge from his pocket and clamped it between his teeth.
"Haa."
He let out a low breath. On a hillside road at night, a single bike was burning. He'd meant to keep it a good while longer; he'd even put some tuning into it. But when you fought vampires, this was what inevitably happened. For Se-gun, bikes were consumables, not durables. If he'd known, he would have bought something cheaper.
"I just replaced the tires, too."
He grumbled and eyed Inn's burning flesh. It was hard to believe an Esquire of the Jinma Juk-yo would go down this easily — but then again, keratinization was a mutation that destroyed a considerable volume of the tissue needed for life. Combat power spiked for a moment, but the trade-off was a lethal weakness to fire.
"Juk-yo's vampires are strong, but… I seem to have gotten stronger than before myself."
Se-gun slid Noctis D. Spatha back into its scabbard and turned away. That was when it came.
Ssshhh!
Something skimmed low along the ground and lunged. In that same instant Se-gun was already smirking.
"How simple."
He spun as he crammed the cartridge between his teeth into Beast. With a sharp chik the cylinder rotated, the round was drawn into the chamber, and the hammer fell. It was faster than Inn's mutant could close the distance — lightning itself, a speed no human eye could track.
KWAANG!
Se-gun pulled another cartridge from his coat, set it between his teeth, and turned away as if the fun had gone out of it. His whole body was in tatters. For a fight to the death, the result felt oddly flat.
No… have I drifted too far from being human?
He sighed and shoved both hands into his pockets. The bike had burned to nothing, so he would have to walk home. From the look of things, tonight's assault had not been a full-strength vampire offensive so much as a solo play by one clan — Ireland Astate — with the remnants of the Juk-yo faction stuck on like burrs. The newly risen Jinma had probably attacked to prove their own worth. In that case, there was no need to worry about Silvester.
"But what about Sarhyuk?"
Holding that question, Se-gun left the burning bike behind and walked out into the night streets.
"Kh!"
Shane was finally overtaken by Silvester. But how exactly did one high-speed car force another to a stop? Sports cars used lightweight frames and chassis; block the road and both of them would end up in the ditch. Even at over two hundred kilometers an hour a collision wouldn't kill a vampire or a Jinma hunter. The airbags were installed, after all!
But think about it — a guy who got this furious over one little ram is never going to wreck his own car, right?
Shane thought that and ducked his head. Sure enough, Silvester kept one hand on the wheel and aimed Beast behind him.
KWAANG!
The windshield shattered and glass poured into the cabin.
"Kh!"
Shane could not hold out. He slammed the brakes. At this point it would have to be hand-to-hand. Originally he had meant to settle things with underlings alone. Then he discovered the other side had finished laying booby traps and every other preparation, so he had baited a change of venue — and this was the result.
"Whatever! He's someone I have to fight anyway!"
The only regret was that he had failed to wear Silvester down with expendable troops. Burning through bullets, burning through magic — that would have been ideal.
Screeeech!
Silvester's Corvette left black tire marks as it stopped. A deserted hillside road, a national highway at a bend. The silver-haired priest and the blond vampire stepped out of their cars as if of one mind.
"Barely a Jinma and you already come at me. You've got nerve, vampire!"
Silvester looked nothing like his usual composed self. He wore the face of a blood-starved demon. His long silver hair streamed in a wind that did not exist, and pale light blasted from his eyes. It was a scene that made the height of his rage obvious at a glance. Even cartoon veins drawn across his forehead would not have been this blatant.
So what now? For Shane, who had to catch that arrow of fury, the truth was he already knew he was no match for Silvester. If he could use Scar he might have stood a chance, but even with VT close to Venom's he could not wield it.
"Well then… what's next? Hmm? You're a Jinma now — show me something. Or is the sum of your talent rear-ending other people's cars? Parked ones, at that?"
"…I feel like the focus of your anger is a little off."
Shane drew a kukri from his back. A glint of interest flickered through Silvester's eyes.
"I thought I'd pay you back for carving me up last time. How about it, Jinma hunter?"
"Is that so? Baring your fangs at a hunter makes you a rather brave piece of game. But if you meant to face me without your underlings, you made a grave miscalculation — I'll tell you that now."
Silvester traced a circle in the air. Silver fire hissed to life and became a flame that scorched the dark. Even that flame, however, shuddered, scattered its embers, and died.
"I haven't been this angry in a very long time. Starting with laying hands on Arjuna, you have scraped my temper raw, one thing after another. Making me feel like a living creature again — how am I supposed to repay that, hmm?"
"Dying would cover it."
Shane skimmed the kukri low along the ground. Silvester did not so much as twitch, yet the blade sparked and bounced away in midair. In that same instant Silvester kicked off the asphalt and closed.
"Above—?"
Shane swept his claws upward. Silvester vaulted off nothing, slipped past the nails as lightly as breath, and drew Argent Harpesion.
Shhhhk!
The sound of wind racing. Shane slammed a hand into the asphalt and opened distance on pure reflex. Something razor-sharp had already cut through his flesh.
"Wire?"
Spatial perception let him map matter. That was a vampire's gift. Even so, these things remained invisible to Shane's eyes. Magically treated wire, most likely. The one mercy was that the wounds were so fine they were easier to regenerate.
The far stronger restraint and physical power he now possessed gave him a measure of relief — but this Silvester was not the one he had faced before. He had never fought the man while he was this furious, pouring magic without the slightest thrift.
"Khaah!"
Shane gathered toxin in his claws. He had at least succeeded in producing a poison similar to Scar. But unlike Scar, which struck the moment it entered the field of vision, a toxin that had to be delivered by hand was another order of magnitude weaker. Compared to Scar, this was a thoroughly inferior force.
"Let's see how long you can keep acting superior!"
Shane crouched, then whipped both arms and sprayed venom. Even Silvester had no choice but to fall back and evade.
"A childish attack. Why not put it in a water gun and spray it that way?"
Silvester muttered the words as he raised Beast.
"As expected — even an Esquire has none of a Jinma's dignity. Die."
In that instant a helicopter crested the mountain. Silvester flinched and looked up — and the aircraft opened fire.
Dadadadadadada!
Two vampires leaning out with assault rifles poured rounds into him. Silvester fell back at once, flared his coat, and covered his face with both arms so the ballistic panels took the storm of bullets.
"Are you all right?"
From the helicopter, the vampires of Ireland Astate were laughing. In that moment Shane wanted to die. These bastards had ignored their clan lord, acted on their own, and then "rescued" him in a crisis — utterly destroying his face.
"Kh!"
Shane clenched his teeth against the shame. Then the air itself changed.
Hwaaaaah!
"Huh?"
When the startled Shane looked back… Silvester was covering his face with both arms and laughing. The coat — laced with ceramic bands — should have been shredded by M-16 fire, yet it had stopped the rifle rounds without serious damage. That was why Silvester was still standing on both legs, feet planted on the earth.
"Hahahaha… So… Did you rock it?"
In that moment Silvester brought Beast to bear on the helicopter. The madness flooding his eyes was colder than any killing intent the gun could spit; even the vampires felt their hair stand on end.
"No way—"
The pilot half-doubted. Silvester only smiled, charmingly, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
A single shot and the rotor smoked, the airframe lurching out of balance. The vampires scrambled to jump clear. The instant they left the cabin, they were split clean down the middle.
"Kyaagh!"
"…"
Shane stared blankly at the bisected corpses tumbling from the sky, then turned to Silvester. Silvester reeled in wire and pulled a Barrett from inside the vehicle.
"What? Frightened? Want to crawl into a closet and shake? Tut-tut. Show me a Jinma's dignity. Won't you test your own limits? Hmm?"
"…Lunatic."
Shane muttered it and pulled a Psychedelic Moon from his coat, dumping the contents into his mouth.
"Ha. Vampires take that stuff too? Is it a nutritional supplement?"
Silvester sneered, Argent Harpesion and Beast both leveled. He knew vampires were affected by Psychedelic Moon. The impact was far weaker than on a human, but once the drug took hold he could not afford to be careless. Sure enough, the flustered look from moments ago was gone; Shane came straight at him. Body lowered to the absolute limit, a dash like a dive into the ground itself!
"I'll Rock you!"
Shane's eyes detonated with murderous light! Silvester received the charge with leisure to spare!
"Fare Well!"
In that instant Silvester and Shane crossed.
Chiiisss!
Every wire failed against the venom and burned through. Smoke rose from Silvester's flesh as well.
"…"
Silvester held the silver blade horizontal to the ground, then slowly lowered it toward the earth. Shane had not come through the clash unharmed either; wire still jutted from his body. He had managed to avoid the silver saber itself. Dodging every wire strung to that blade had been too much.
"Impressive. You slut…!"
Silvester slammed a round into Beast at terrifying speed and fired at Shane. Shane flung himself clear and ducked behind Silvester's car.
"…"
That seemed to enrage Silvester further. But when anger peaked it could turn cold instead. His face went blank and he vaulted the guardrail, dropping toward the cliff.
"Kh!"
Shane sprayed venom across the asphalt and abandoned the spot. Blue flame fell from the sky and burned the place where he had stood a heartbeat before. He cleared the attack and laughed as if something were hilarious.
"Hahahahahahaha! Truly incredible. Monster hunter Silvester!"
"…"
Silvester answered by stepping out of the dark, kicking off a pine, and diving at Shane. Shane caught the silver blade on his kukri.
Pat!