The Ripper
The next night.
“Room service.”
As if he had been waiting, the hotelier lifted the silver cloche. On the plate, thankfully unlike yesterday, there was proper content this time.
Capture Target Alive
Contract Issuer: Wallachia Co., Chairman Vlad Tepes
Target: The Crimson Artist “Jack the Ripper”
The unexpected demand for a live capture made Solomon frown. Well, a vampire wouldn’t just rip out a corpse’s heart and call it a day. Considering their refined palate, it wasn’t surprising.
‘This just got annoying.’
And then there was this.
The target (hereinafter referred to as “Ripper”) is a blood mage from the Crimson Spire. Following his failure and subsequent refusal to accept the results of the Elder Examination, he was excommunicated from the Spire…
‘Blood mage of the Crimson Spire.’
A blood mage. A Blood Mage. And even though he had been excommunicated, he was skilled enough to have taken the Elder Examination.
It was the same profession as the one Solomon had acquired through the heart in the bottle. The word “coincidence” didn’t even begin to cover it.
After his excommunication, under the pretext of “artistic activity,” he has repeatedly kidnapped and murdered male and female prostitutes in the red-light district of Raspberry Street, Downtown District 7, at least three times.
A Level 2 blade of the Sword Watch is currently investigating, but due to Wallachia Co.’s information manipulation, an arrest is expected to take additional time.
The information continued. A Sword Watch blade was already on his trail, and the very same Wallachia Co. was actively obstructing the investigation. It was a stark reminder of just how much power corporations held in this city.
Our side has located the Ripper’s blood trail and placed a tracking spell upon it. This can be utilized via the enclosed bloodstone necklace.
Detection range is within 500 meters. Analysis of the target’s behavior patterns indicates a high probability of capture around Redflower Station at midnight tonight…
They had even thoughtfully included a function to track the target and clearly written out where he needed to go. This was the very definition of a cakewalk.
‘I can’t let my guard down.’
A blood mage skilled enough to target an elder of the Crimson Spire was no joke. And the client himself was none other than Vlad Tepes, chairman of Wallachia Co. and leader of one of Downtown’s megacorporations—part of the Black Museum.
Since he was willing to offer something he coveted so greedily as payment, there were surely hidden dangers Solomon didn’t know about.
‘Nothing’s changed.’
Solomon gave his gear one final check.
The Igniting Sun Ruby Dagger and Ghostwhale Bone Blade hidden in each sleeve. The Nightfall automatic crossbow, now reborn as his staff after the modifications at Deadlock Workshop.
After gathering his equipment, he took the bloodstone necklace from the silver plate and immediately left the room.
Through the door, straight into the red-light district of Downtown District 7.
Bloom Street 94, in front of Redflower Station.
A fortress of pleasure where red lanterns danced, a holy land of every vice and gamble the city had to offer. Even as the night deepened, the lights on the street showed no sign of dimming. If anything, they burned even redder than before.
Raspberry Street—Solomon’s old hometown.
For him, a clear “past” existed here. A past carved by his own two hands.
And it wasn’t just any past. This was the eye of the storm, watched by the Demon Lords of Hell, the Five Great Families, and every major player in this world.
‘…Not something I need to worry about right now.’
Solomon shook his head. He had come here for a different purpose. For now, he needed to focus on the job in front of him. With that thought, he stepped into the crowded street in front of Redflower Station, more packed with people than ever.
To hunt the villain who used these night streets as his own hunting ground.
Solomon blended into the crowd and crossed Bloom Street 94. He had walked some distance along the road that wrapped around the station when he felt it.
Faintly, the magic of the bloodstone necklace began to “pull.” The gem seemed to tug in a specific direction, like a magnet drawn to iron.
There was no reason to resist. Solomon followed the necklace’s guidance without hesitation.
Before long, he left the main avenue for a narrow alley, then moved deeper into the “back alleys” of Raspberry Street—an area that felt distinctly out of place.
As if peeking behind the lavishly decorated stage, the brilliant red lanterns and heavy perfume vanished like a lie. Even in broad daylight, the towering structures cast shadows that made it as dark as night. The gas lamps glowing in the gloom barely managed to provide any real illumination.
The pull from the bloodstone necklace had grown incomparably stronger. It was yanking violently toward a spot right in front of him, strong enough to snap its chain and fly forward.
‘This is it.’
It looked like an ordinary lodging house from the outside. Solomon opened the door without hesitation.
“Welcome. You stayin’ the night? The girl’ll be…”
The man at the desk had a cigarette in his mouth and greeted Solomon in a businesslike tone. Solomon didn’t answer. He simply followed the necklace’s pull and climbed the stairs in silence.
“Hey, this guy doesn’t even talk…”
Clack-clack!
The moment the man started grumbling, Solomon silently drew the automatic crossbow from the quick-loader belt at his waist.
Click.
As the frame and mechanism settled into place, the ratchet wheel that locked the crossbow’s axle clicked into position. With that sound, Solomon placed his finger on the trigger and pulled.
The Nightfall XR-10, its body gleaming with a sharp, midnight-black luster.
The instant he saw it, the man shut his mouth mid-grumble. Solomon continued up two flights of stairs in silence until he stopped in front of a door. Room 305. This was the place.
‘.’
Without hesitation, he activated a Level 1 spell. Solomon’s eyes turned as black and inorganic as obsidian. The interior of the room was revealed.
A woman with a wad of cotton stuffed in her mouth, her arms and legs bound with rope, struggling desperately…
And right behind the door, the Ripper, poised to launch a surprise attack the moment Solomon entered.
‘I see everything.’
He desperately wanted to drive a blade into that ambush stance, but unfortunately, he couldn’t. The contract’s objective was live capture. In other words, he could not deliver a lethal blow.
What made it even more troublesome was figuring out exactly how much force he could use without killing the target.
For example, the bleeding Solomon caused with a sneak attack was no ordinary bleeding.
Excessive Bleeding
: On a successful melee sneak attack, the Bleeding status effect lasts significantly longer and is much harder to remove.
Thanks to his Reaper subclass—the same name as the target—his bleeding far exceeded normal levels. He had seen its power firsthand when fighting the Priest of Pain.
‘No choice, then.’
In times like these, the best option was to go in stupidly hard.
BAM!
Solomon kicked the door with all his strength. To the bastard hiding behind it and cautiously peeking out, it must have been the most devastating blow imaginable.
“Guhk!”
The Ripper tumbled across the floor in pain. The bound woman’s eyes turned toward him, desperately pleading for help, her gaze filled with the will to live. And that face looked very familiar.
‘The blonde neighbor from next door…’
She was the neighbor from Unit 17 in Grimmlow Court 2-ga, on the outskirts of the Lower District.
—Hey, mister. You’re still alive?
She had said that while puffing on a cigarette. Now she was the one who had to worry about her own life.
“Good thing we’re both still alive.”
Solomon said as he approached the Ripper rolling on the floor. The man quickly pulled something from his coat. A knife. He gripped the coldly gleaming blade and kicked off the ground toward Solomon.
It was a light scuffle. No—it didn’t even qualify as a scuffle. Solomon easily knocked aside the wrist holding the knife, then grabbed and twisted it in the opposite direction. He bent it so hard the elbow bone jutted outward. With a sickening crunch, flesh, blood, and bone tore through the skin.
“Aaaaaaaaagh!”
With one arm neutralized, Solomon kicked the falling knife under the bed, then drove his knee into the man’s stomach, forcing him to collapse. Endless screams. Even a blood mage was helpless against the pain of his own body, it seemed.
At the very least, it was clear he was the stereotypical frail mage—not particularly skilled in physical combat.
“You’re not a kid. Try to endure it.”
As he spoke, Solomon raised his hand to strike the man’s neck—
Splat!
The Ripper’s body suddenly collapsed on the spot. His flesh and bones lost their shape, melting like a puddle. A pool of blood had already formed beneath him, writhing like a living creature.
“!”
Crunch!
A blood-red blade erupted from the pool. Solomon quickly rolled to dodge. In the distance, a faint sound echoed.
It was the sound of dice rolling.
‘Dice? Why…?’
Why would dice be rolling in this situation? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. Not when the blood mage’s body was melting into the pool of blood right in front of him. He had no time to pay attention to the sound in his ear.
Drip. Drip.
Blood droplets ran down Solomon’s stealth coat. It wasn’t his blood. It was the spray from when he had broken the Ripper’s arm moments ago. Immediately after, a heart-stopping shock slammed into his mind.
Blood Explosion
: Once per day, can ignite and detonate the target’s blood.
It was the unique trait of a Blood Mage. The Ripper before him was no exception to its use.
Soon, the pool of blood at his feet rose like a living creature, increasing its distance before reforming into a human shape. Even the wound on his arm had been cleanly healed.
“Heh heh, you slippery little bastard!”
The Blood Mage, Jack the Ripper, grinned.
“Did you really think an elder of the Crimson Spire would fall to trash like you from the back alleys…!”
Crimson Spire elder. Solomon found the claim so absurd he couldn’t help but add,
“Weren’t you the one who failed the elder exam?”
“…!”
“And after throwing a tantrum and getting yourself excommunicated, you’re still calling yourself an elder?”
Recalling the detailed information he had read from the room service menu earlier, Solomon continued.
“Trash like you! What the hell would trash like you know about me…!”
“Ah, so that’s your boiling point.”
The moment Solomon sneered, the self-proclaimed elder blood mage of the Crimson Spire—the Ripper—moved.
“Back-alley garbage like you dares to speak about me? About my art…!”
The blood scattered across the room floated upward, defying gravity. Countless droplets, separate from his uncontrollable rage, formed into bullet shapes and shot forward.
‘!’
Fast. And the accuracy and lethality packed into each droplet were nothing to scoff at. After all, he was a blood mage skilled enough to challenge an elder.
‘…’
A barrage of blood like a hail of arrows. His boasting wasn’t entirely empty. The crimson arrows were closing in too quickly to dodge without using a spell to escape.
“You… you were a shadow mage…!”
As a mage, one must counter spells with spells. Seeing the rising shadow, the Ripper shouted in alarm. By the time he shouted, Solomon was already behind him.
“─.”
There was no time for leisurely conversation. No room to hold back. So Solomon remained silent. And in that silence, the tip of his blade flew forward.
A killer’s blade aimed between the spine from behind. It should have ended there.
Clang!
A sound rang out. The sound of something being deflected. At some point, a blood-red carapace had formed around his back.
‘……’
Nothing to be surprised about. Nothing had changed. Solomon readjusted his grip on the hilt and kicked off the ground, creating distance.
Even so—
‘!’
Shaaak!
The coagulated blood, shaped like bullets, scattered in every direction. Solomon couldn’t dodge them all. More precisely, the “victim” within range couldn’t dodge them.
—Hey, mister. You’re still alive?
It was the neighbor whose face he barely knew. That was all. Really.
‘Goddammit!’
Solomon kicked off the ground instantly. The blood bullets flying in every direction. He wasn’t dodging them. He was throwing himself into their path.
“!”
Thud!
He blocked the crimson bullets aimed at the helpless neighbor who couldn’t even resist.
“……!”
The blonde neighbor let out a silent scream.
“You…”
“!”
Yet Solomon didn’t even blink. He muttered calmly, ignoring the blood pouring from the wound in his chest, his eyes fixed on the mage before him.
“You won’t die an easy death.”
His voice was ice-cold, devoid of any emotion.