Optical Camouflage
Ryeo slipped carefully out of the alley, avoiding any sign of human presence. Crossing paths with Jeong-ya—who had presumably drunk the blood of both Juk-yo and Chang-woon—had been unexpected, but from the very beginning her only target had been Han Se-gun.
Sorry, In, but right now catching the hunter comes first.
She bit down hard on her lip, thinking of In, who had been out searching for Jeong-ya. Until she eliminated that vampire hunter, securing Jeong-ya’s safety would mean nothing. Besides, Jeong-ya’s abilities were genuinely formidable; in a matter of moments she had already vanished without a trace. Her combat instincts were still lacking, but her physical power alone was worthy of a Jinma.
“So what the hell are you doing here?”
She heard Han Se-gun mutter under his breath. Ryeo flinched, but stayed silent in the dark, waiting for her opening. He wasn’t asking because he knew where she was; he was tossing the question out deliberately, fishing for a reaction. A vampire’s hearing would pick up speech no matter where she hid.
Ssshhh…
A sound like something sliding across the ground—someone moving with deliberate silence. Ryeo pressed her hand behind her ear, cupping it like a makeshift parabolic mic. The human ear grafted to her head had no reliable sense of direction, so this was the only way to give the sound any orientation. Crude, but enough to roughly pin down where the noise was coming from.
Heading back to his safe house?
She had already familiarized herself with the area before arriving. The streets around H University were packed with student bars and late-night spots, so people were still out even at this hour. For a hunter trying to stay off the radar, that left only the residential blocks. And within those blocks, the routes that avoided police patrols were limited. Certain of that, Ryeo began to undress.
In moments she stood completely naked. Light skimmed briefly along the lean lines of her body—then she vanished, her form blending into the surroundings. With her camouflage ability, she disappeared in an instant.
“Jesus. What a headache. I’m popular as hell tonight.”
Se-gun checked what weapons he had left. Roughly twenty rounds of Tokarev ammo, one knife, one loaded knuckle duster—plenty enough to kill a vampire, but the police crawling all over the district made him uneasy. Even with a suppressor, a Tokarev still cracked at around seventy decibels. Hard not to care about that.
If this is an assassin specifically after me, better I take the lead, right?
With that thought, Se-gun carefully stepped out into the alley. If a vampire spotted him, it wouldn’t be able to resist attacking…
Shhhk!
A sharp whistle of air cut through the dark. Se-gun ducked, but the iron shard had been aimed at his legs from the start. It punched straight through.
“Kh—!”
Thanks to the Psychedelic Moon, the pain was only mild. The functional degradation and dizziness from blood loss, though—those were pure irritation.
“Where are you?!”
He yanked the shard free and scanned the direction it had come from, but no one was there anymore. A plain vampire was far more terrifying than some half-baked Jinma. Se-gun pressed himself against the wall to avoid sniper fire and began injecting vampire blood into a syringe.
Shhhk!
Another iron shard, this time from the exact opposite direction. Se-gun rolled forward in shock, barely clearing it. The shard struck a utility pole and threw sparks with a harsh metallic ring.
“Tch!”
There was still no hint of sunrise in the eastern sky. Se-gun kept injecting the vampire blood as he crawled along the ground. His opponent’s movements were impossibly fast—nothing in his field of vision, circling him, launching multi-directional attacks from every side. Just how quickly was this thing moving?
Even a vampire shouldn’t be able to move that fast.
As long as it walked on two legs, that kind of speed simply didn’t exist—and no building could withstand the force of a vampire kicking off the ground hard enough to achieve it. Something would have to break; there should be traces. Then Se-gun saw something pass overhead.
Shhhhk!
“Damn it! Optical camouflage?!”
Only then did he understand what he was fighting. He threw up his arm. A wave of iron shards slammed into him—he blocked them with his arm, which of course was punched clean through—then spun sideways and raised his Tokarev. Optical camouflage. A vampire that melted into the background. One of Juk-yo’s line, no doubt.
Thud-thud!
As expected, the shadow-quick vampire was already gone. Se-gun decided the position was hopeless and moved. Past the corner store at the three-way intersection, into a narrow alley. Here, it was like pitching from a bullpen—the walls on either side acted as guide rails, lining everything up into a straight shot and boosting the accuracy of any direct-fire weapon. Of course, that worked both ways for the iron shards as well, putting his own body at equal risk. He was already past caring about that.
Come on!
Se-gun leveled his muzzle at the alley mouth and stopped. The passage was too narrow for even a single car, and it was a dead end—no other way out.
“Wait… what about above?”
He suddenly launched himself toward the alley entrance, twisting midair to aim his gun at the sky. Ryeo, just leaping down from above, jerked in surprise and raised an iron shard to cover her heart.
Ting!
The bullet struck the shard dead-on, throwing sparks. Another round punched through her wrist, but the moment she hit the ground she charged Se-gun head-on.
“Die, you filthy hunting dog!”
“That so? If I get killed by the thing I’m hunting, I guess I’m not much of a hunting dog, am I?”
Se-gun flung himself backward in time with her rush, alternating fire between the Tokarev and the Type 54. But unlike Jeong-ah, Ryeo knew how to take care of her own body. She kicked off sideways against the wall, spun, and dropped behind him.
Kang!
An iron shard flew. Se-gun raised the Tokarev to block, but the shard sheared the suppressor clean off and buried itself in his chest. That alone was a heavy blow—and Ryeo followed it with a spinning kick. Se-gun yanked his head back; the concrete-block wall behind him collapsed instead.
KRAASH!
“Tch!”
Se-gun ripped the shard from his chest and flung it at her. Ryeo kicked off the wall at astonishing speed, caught a steel railing, and scrambled up onto the building above. She would disengage, then come back with a wave of attacks—that much was certain. Optical camouflage plus excellent combat instincts made her a far more troublesome enemy than Jeong-ya.
And a beauty, on top of it. Tch. Guess I’m just destined to be hated by women.
He ditched the Tokarev with its ruined suppressor and drew the Type 54 and his knife. Staying put in this alley meant certain death. He had to keep shifting position. But where? There was a police box one block back, and a twenty-four-hour convenience store up ahead. To stay out of human sight he’d have to reverse the way he came—which meant crossing these houses either way.
“Hup!”
Se-gun kicked off the wall, climbed up, and hauled himself onto the terrace of the building opposite. Unlike a vampire, his body was still essentially human; he had to climb onto the terrace properly, then follow the steel railing higher, then take a ladder up to the rooftop water tank.
“Haaah!”
Even from only the height of a water tank, the whole neighborhood spread out below him. Se-gun stretched once and eyed the next building over. The houses were packed so tightly he could probably jump it—if not for the roof tiles…
Shhhk!
Something else came flying. Se-gun snapped the Type 54 toward the sound and emptied it. A roof tile shattered midair into a storm of shards that raked across him.
“Son of a bitch!”
Bloodied in an instant, Se-gun ducked behind the water tank. A vampire woman throwing roof tiles? Or had she simply run out of iron shards? Even with a vampire’s strength, a roof tile was ballistically unstable compared to forged metal. The slower throw was the only reason he’d been able to react and shoot it down—which meant she hadn’t chosen the tile knowing he’d fire at it.
If I drag this out, I can survive it. That’s something.
Se-gun glanced at the eastern sky, then slipped around the tank and leapt to the neighboring roof. Sunrise was still an hour away. A vampire needed time to find shelter from the sun, which meant she had to finish him quickly. But Se-gun wanted her dead just as badly. A camouflaged vampire left alive meant nights spent never knowing when the next ambush would come.
“Hated by vampires. Guess I’ve finally made it.”
He thumbed rounds into a Tokarev magazine and scanned his surroundings. Optical camouflage meant a visual sweep would never find her. So how—
Tak.
A faint sound. Se-gun spun and aimed. All he saw was a single pebble rolling across the roof tiles. A diversion?
“Tch!”
Which meant she was closing for a finishing blow in melee. Without looking back, Se-gun dropped off the roof, raising his gun toward the sky as he fell. The image was hazy, but a smooth outline was still impossible to hide completely. He fired into Ryeo’s silhouette.
Thud-thud-thud!
He hit the ground, rolled forward, and slapped his back against a wall. In that same instant, a sound like ripping wind accompanied a set of razor claws flying for his throat.
Whulk!
Blood sprayed, painting the alley red. He twisted his neck just enough to save it, but her hand punched clean through his right shoulder—a mortal wound. And Ryeo didn’t stop there. She wrenched her arm left and right, tearing at the shoulder as if she meant to rip the arm clean off. Muscle fibers snapped with a wet, rapid series of pops.
“Khhhghh—!”
The nerves gone, the muscles of his right arm seized and the pistol tumbled uselessly from his hand. Ryeo dropped her camouflage, planted a foot on his shoulder, and drove down hard. The arm tore free completely. Shearing living flesh like that—without the Psychedelic Moon he would already have convulsed into madness or died of shock. Ryeo lifted her hand, thick with his blood, and brought it to her mouth.
Blood ran down her chin and traced the curves of her body, now fully visible. The red lines flowing over her completely bare form were so erotic that for a moment Se-gun forgot the pain entirely and simply stared.
“For a hunting dog who only cares about money, your blood is surprisingly sweet.”
“Khkhkhkh… hahahahaha. Nice line! Running a blood-tasting contest, are we?!”
Bak!
The instant the words left his mouth, Ryeo’s fist smashed toward his face. A vampire’s strike was kill-on-contact; even Se-gun, crazy enough to catch a blade in his teeth, had no choice but to dodge. He still couldn’t save his ear. It tore clean off.
“Gwahk!”
He spat blood onto the pavement. His arm muscles were shredded, bone showing, and somehow he was still alive. Was this the power of Psychedelic Moon? Either way, she might have a killer body, but this had gone way too far. He thought as much as he kicked off the ground and rose. Ryeo, certain he was finished, saw the blue fire ignite in his eyes and staggered back—but Se-gun closed the gap at nearly the same speed she retreated.
“Good morning, vampire.”
“Ghk—!”
The knuckle duster detonated against her torso, firing a heavy slug at point-blank range.
Puk!
The noise was almost festive—like a party popper off a birthday cake. The difference was that instead of colored streamers, it was human blood, organs, and scraps of flesh that burst out.
“Urgh—!”
“You got too careless. You really think I’d just lie down and die with a syringe full of medicine sitting right in front of me? Huh?!”
Se-gun bellowed as he kicked the blood-soaked Ryeo. She went tumbling backward, pouring blood of her own. Most of the Tokarev rounds he’d been firing had hit her; her regenerative power and resistance were already badly compromised. But people who kill for emotional reasons always make the same mistake—they waste motion on theatrics that have nothing to do with the actual goal of murder. And that was exactly how this had ended.