The Modern Citadel
Silvester stepped out of Arjuna and looked over the vehicles parked in front of the park. The 4WD Land Rover she had prepared was a massive machine with pitch-black tinted glass; in the rear seats sat a chainsaw that looked suspicious at a glance and a wooden crate for firearms. Human eyes might not notice them easily, but if they ever got stopped for inspection those items would earn him a pair of silver handcuffs in no time.
Without them, though, he would never survive the swarm of vampires that was coming. Even fighting Juk-yo alone had left him with wounds deep enough to remember.
"Like a coffin."
He offered the brief assessment and opened the door. Until now the vampires in Korea had been weak compared to the power of a Jinma hunter, so Arjuna had felt safe—but what about now? Was Arjuna truly a safe place any longer?
"……."
He turned the key. If some Jinma were extreme realists, others were madmen, and still others hopeless romantics. For a moment the question of which category he himself belonged to rose in his mind; Silvester only laughed it away. Realistically there was no way he could protect Arjuna. What was he even fretting about?
Wilhelm met with the lawyer named Kim Chang-soo who handled all of Row Gibson’s business affairs inside Korea. His master fretted over so many things that a human would have developed a nervous stomach ulcer, so Wilhelm signed and processed these important commercial procedures in his place. Outwardly he still looked like a teenage boy, yet in truth he was far older than the Korean attorney standing before him—a living witness to modern history.
"Ah, I’m not saying it’s a problem because you’re young or anything."
Kim Chang-soo handed over the documents with an awkward expression. He knew exactly what Row Gibson and Wilhelm were: vampires, and how long the demon lord had lived. Still, the prejudice of appearance was a terrifying thing. Even Wilhelm himself kept up childlike speech and manners because of the social limits that face imposed. In the end they decided the papers would have to be shown to the master for final approval.
"Very well."
The lawyer rose at once. Watching him hurry out between the faux-Renaissance décor of the hotel coffee shop, Wilhelm chewed over a bitter feeling. He had never once regretted becoming a vampire, yet being treated like this could never feel pleasant—especially when even someone who knew what he was still reacted this way.
"Well then, shall I go up myself?"
He stood. Night had fallen; the hour when vampires began their real activity. Yet his master still had not stirred from the suite. Was he wary of Tetra Anax’s schemes? That thought was still forming when a voice cut in.
"Hey, boy."
A razor-sharp murderous intent brushed the back of Wilhelm’s neck and poured ice down his spine. He spun around, startled. A Southeast-Asian man in sunglasses stood there.
"Never seen this little brat before. You Phantom’s secretary?"
"Kh…"
The man who pushed through the synthetic-resin Renaissance vaults and the potted palm trees was the Jinma Agni. Wilhelm had never met him face to face, yet he recognized a True Vampire at a glance.
"Wh-who are you?"
"Get me in to see Phantom. Moving around freely inside the hotel’s a bit awkward, you understand."
"……."
"Really smart, though. The best seat money can buy is a modern citadel. Hide inside a fortress built of gold and stacks of bills and the worthless little hunters can’t touch you. Damn right."
Agni joked as he clapped Wilhelm’s shoulder. The man looked a full fifty centimeters taller; behind the sunglasses he was grinning lewdly. But what was the true nature of the flames smoldering in those eyes?
"Kh…"
Just then a waiter in a crisp uniform stopped in front of them. The two men were blocking the already-narrow path created by the excessive décor; the waiter’s face plainly said he could not get past. The interruption broke the tension for a moment.
"Oops, my bad—excuse us."
Moving with a loose, bluesy sway, Agni sauntered out with thick-skinned ease.
"Come on, show me the way."
"Wh-what business do you have?"
"What else? It’s what every vampire is talking about right now."
Reason might say that, but Wilhelm could not relax. Among vampires Agni was known as a psycho who enjoyed murder. He also belonged to the anti-Tetra Anax faction—hardly the sort who mixed well with Phantom.
"Hmm. What? Scared I’ll do something to your master? Phantom’s pretty pathetic, not even trusted by his own kid."
He hummed a little tune as he punched the elevator floor number on his own. Wilhelm boarded reluctantly, shaking his head.
"Worrying is only natural. This isn’t about whether I trust Master or not."
"Then how about worrying about your own body instead?"
Agni sneered, yet everyone knew he ranked below Phantom; he had no real intention of touching the bloodline. The elevator stopped at the twentieth-floor suite.
Clack!
The moment the doors opened a metallic sound rang from beyond the floor. Agni strode straight up and pushed open the suite door.
"Whoa. Killer digs. Yankee-country bourgeois really are on another level."
"……."
Phantom had been lounging in an armchair with Beast Double trained on the door; he rose with a look of pure astonishment.
"Were we the kind of friends who drop in on each other unannounced?"
"Not really, but I didn’t think I’d get anywhere talking to anyone else."
Agni’s expression turned serious. Phantom’s displeasure was only natural. Still, among the Tetra Anax faction the one most likely to hold a conversation was definitely Phantom.
"I have no idea what you intend to discuss, but I hope I don’t disappoint your expectations. Because if I do… conversation will become impossible."
Phantom’s tone was thoroughly threatening. Even watching Wilhelm grew tense, yet Agni—the one actually under threat—did not change color at all.
"You already know perfectly well what I came to say, don’t you? I’d like a little information."
"And why should I give you anything of the sort?"
"Because I might end up colliding with other powerful Jinma, so I’m volunteering to stick my head into the tiger’s mouth first. Not a bad deal for you either, right?"
Agni thumped his chest boldly. The point he raised was exactly the concern Phantom had been nursing—like scratching a perfect itch. But the one doing the scratching had his own motives. A Jinma like Agni never acted this openly without some scheme.
"I have no intention of joining hands with you. Opposing Tetra Anax’s rule yet still wanting the information that comes from him—is that it?"
Phantom deliberately chose the word “rule.” Agni’s face twisted.
"I thought the terms I brought were reasonable, but apparently not. Sorry about that."
"No. They are reasonable enough… I just wanted to get that one line in."
Phantom tossed the file lying on the table toward Agni. Agni stared blankly, still reeling from how cleanly Phantom had wiped away the cold displeasure of a moment before; he did not even reach for the folder.
"Tch. If you’re going to give it, can’t you give it cleanly? No need to be so cold about it."
Agni snatched up the file and walked to the window.
"Fine. I’ll be going then. Thanks!"
The high-rise windows were of course smoke-vent panes designed to prevent suicide. Agni slipped through the narrow opening as lightly as a phantom. Wilhelm rushed to look down, but Agni’s figure was already gone.
"M-Master! You didn’t even make a copy of that!"
Wilhelm shrieked at Phantom, who had handed over the only existing file. Phantom merely hummed a tune.
"Doesn’t matter. Records like that are worthless. That young lady managed to hide from the tenacious Father Silvester for two whole years. She’s not someone Agni can catch."
Phantom tucked Beast Double away again and smiled.
"Things are getting interesting. So how will you respond, Jeong-ya?"
Whenever Se-geon felt stifled he had fallen into the habit of heading for Arjuna. Was it loneliness? He asked himself that every time, yet each time he stubbornly denied it—shaking his head left and right, brushing the very word away as if trying to kill it.
Still, Se-geon’s world was far too narrow. No job, no family, no friends—just a blood-starved monster wandering the world under a mad moon. He did not drink blood himself, yet how was he any different from a vampire? No—perhaps a vampire was better. A living heart moving a dead body was closer to humanity than a dead heart moving a living one.
Ding-a-ling.
The brass bell above the door rang with a clear note. Arjuna was fairly crowded for a Sunday evening. Occult enthusiasts had gathered to have their fortunes read; in the corners a few people played cards or board games. Without the air purifiers the haze of smoke would have formed pillars of light—an impressive sight—but reality, unfortunately, was otherwise.
"Ah, Se-geon."
Kim Seong-hui greeted him in a bright voice. The woman who always smiled so charmingly was as unreadable as Silvester himself. Standing amid the shadows cast by the downward-angled lights, she looked refined and beautiful—so refined, in fact, that she somehow failed to register as an object of desire.
"Hmm."
Se-geon sat on the stool nearest the counter and looked at her.
"Are Deok-yeon or Silvester around?"
"Hmm. Ah, well…"
Kim Seong-hui began to hedge. She looked outside so obviously that Se-geon actually turned to follow her gaze.
"Deok-yeon doesn’t come that often anyway, and Silvester’s out."
"Is that so? Hmm."
Se-geon leaned back against the rest and exhaled. An indescribable pain pressed down on his chest. Anxiety about the future and loneliness seemed to be forming a huge knot inside him—a knot big enough to kill the tree itself. He had thought he had already given up on life, yet living day to day still made him worry about what came next and fear death.
When the mental stress piled high enough it was as if he became drunk on it; madness flared and he slipped into a dazed state. How was he supposed to keep living this way? The world in front of him felt pitch black.
"Mm. You don’t look too happy. Something wrong?"
"No. Just…"
"Hmm. If we served alcohol I could mix you a nice cocktail. What do you think? Would it suit me?"
"A beauty looks good in anything."
The words slipped out before Se-geon realized; he startled himself. Kim Seong-hui, however, seemed rather pleased.
"If that was a pickup line, I’ll call it outdated for you."
"Th-that’s not what I meant."
"Heh-heh. Are you embarrassed? Well, if something’s weighing on your mind, tell me."
"It doesn’t feel like the kind of problem you solve by talking to someone else."
"Then why did you come here? My coffee’s good, but I don’t think you raced all that way just for coffee."
Kim Seong-hui lifted the pot and refilled Se-geon’s cup.
"Who knows? Why did I?"
Was it because the hideout—barely large enough to eat and sleep in—felt too bleak? Or because living without speaking to anyone was exhausting? How many people even brushed past Se-geon in a single day?
"Let’s just say I wanted this place’s coffee. This Cocoa Mess blend, for instance."
"You actually remember? That’s my special house blend."
"You bragged about it yourself last time."
Kim Seong-hui set the pot back on the warmer and gazed out the window.
"You’re popular."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Just talking to myself."
She flicked her tongue out playfully and headed for the kitchen.