Chapter 284
Chapter 284
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 284
Chapter Title: European Expansion (3)
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Day had broken.
As if wondering what could have possibly happened overnight, the heart of France—Paris—was kicking off another hectic day just like any other.
Citizens hustled diligently for school, work, housework, and the like.
But beneath that veneer of everyday normalcy, the city's shadowy underbelly—which had stayed awake all night—was anything but peaceful.
Those kept from sleep by the freak incident of the previous night had no choice but to keep scrambling even now.
"What's the current situation?"
"The last report came in from Nanterre about three hours ago, and nothing since. That brings the total to five Thermidor branches wiped out, including the initial Versailles report."
"Heh—five? Five branches crumbled in a single night?"
France's Ability Security General Bureau, the agency overseeing all awakener-related matters.
The chief responsible for Paris and its surrounding areas let out a hollow laugh at his subordinate's report.
What the hell was Thermidor, anyway?
It was a powerhouse organization that effectively dominated Milieu, France's underworld.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say their influence touched every crime syndicate in the country, directly or indirectly.
Even the full might of law enforcement couldn't touch them lightly—a dangerous group that gave authorities nothing but headaches.
And the one who'd elevated a mere criminal outfit to such heights was...
"The Tyrant won't take this lying down."
The master of Thermidor and ruler of Milieu: the Tyrant.
"If he decides to go on a real rampage, it won't end with mere headaches. He won't think this is some op we planned, will he? We're not even ready yet..."
It might seem odd for a national agency to fret over a crime syndicate instead of cracking down, but a slight shift in perspective made it perfectly reasonable.
'It's not some living creature—it's asymmetric warfare incarnate.'
A tiny handful of absolute powerhouses whose strength defied human limits to the point of seeming alien.
It might be manageable if they were the type you could slug it out with head-on, but the real problem was slippery ones like the vampire 'Tyrant,' who were a nightmare in direct confrontations.
'If he goes into hiding and picks off the head of state and top brass one by one, the whole country grinds to a halt.'
Should he shun open battle for repeated ambushes, even recruiting equivalent transcendents had its limits.
They might succeed in taking him down eventually, but the fallout would be catastrophic beyond imagination.
That was why the government turned a blind eye unless Thermidor crossed an unspoken line, only then cracking down.
Everyone treasured their own neck, after all.
Most nations plagued by major Villain factions were probably in the same boat.
"No unusual activity yet. They can't move recklessly until they confirm the facts, either."
"...That's some small mercy. Any leads on his identity? Pulling off something like that solo means he's no ordinary player."
As someone whose raison d'être was shielding the nation from Villains, it stung to feel relief at such news—but there was no helping it for now.
More pressing was the identity of the culprit behind it all.
You had to know who you were dealing with before setting any course of action.
"Fluent French, over 180 cm tall, aristocratic and intimidating air, handsome black-haired, red-eyed man wearing a white opera half-mask..."
Thanks to agents hustling through the night to gather survivor and witness accounts, they'd already pinned down a solid description.
Of course, deducing the perp's identity from mere fragments wasn't easy—but...
"We looped in the DGSE just in case, and they helped us zero in on the prime suspect."
Surprisingly, they'd narrowed it down to one near-certain candidate with ease.
France's premier intelligence outfit—already tuned into overseas chatter—had fired back a response the moment cooperation was requested.
"Alias: Phantom."
"...Phantom? With that mask, no less. The Ghost of the Opera, huh?"
"Affirmative. And estimates peg him as the head of the vampire clan that devoured Korea's underworld."
"No way! He's a vampire too? What the hell brings a heavyweight like that all the way here?"
Several photos began projecting across the conference room.
From grainy CCTV stills to glossy shots straight out of a magazine.
The finale, blown up largest, was the infamous internet sensation: the 'Phantom Legendary Meme.'
"...Definitely a striking look. Obvious at a glance, even behind the mask."
"We've cross-checked with witnesses. Holding off on official confirmation for contingencies, but internally, we're already certain it's the same guy."
"Korea's vampire for real? Kinda throws you for a loop, that name popping up outta nowhere. Too damn far for overseas expansion."
The chief roughly scratched his chin as he peered at the photos.
Honestly, his exposure to that Korea place was limited to a few exchange-related duties—nothing worth commenting on.
'Pretty sure they said the only notables were the Brain Emperor and those Hahoe masks.'
Judging by current events, that intel was outdated.
They'd been too buried in local incidents to track overseas news closely; time to step it up.
As the Ability Security General Bureau hashed out plans centered on observation and nimble responses to wild cards...
The same moment elsewhere.
"...Korea's vampire, huh. So that's the bastard."
In another corner of Paris, someone else gazed at Phantom's photo and muttered with a strange inflection.
Outside, a bright morning sun bathed the clear day—but inside, every window was shrouded in thick blackout curtains. Only the monitor's glow flickered in the pitch-black room.
"Came all the way here just like the rumors said. What balls."
The figure, swallowed entirely by shadow and appearing jet-black, murmured leisurely.
But unlike the agency's tepid response, his reaction was anything but half-hearted.
'Whatever his game is, I can't just sit on my hands.'
He had no clue why the guy had come this far, but this was a blatant, public provocation.
With multiple branches already vaporized and cadres dropping like flies, failing to crush the offender decisively after such a one-sided beatdown would shatter Thermidor's hard-earned prestige.
He needed to eliminate the source fast and shore up their position before things got messier.
'Looks like a solid talent—snag him for the stable, and we can more than recoup the losses. ...Plus, screw dancing to that Romanian prick's tune.'
He scowled faintly, recalling the obnoxious neighbor who'd been slyly meddling in his turf.
The greedy bastard had swallowed most of Eastern Europe's shadows and was always scheming for more.
With Thermidor taking a real hit this time, their reaction was a foregone conclusion.
'Wrap this up quick and regroup.'
The man buried in shadow slowly rose from his seat.
Then, in a drowsy voice, he murmured like a whisper.
"Find him." "And confess to me." ⟨ Shadow Lord ⟩
The words, laced with an eerie resonance, echoed out.
Wriggle—
The shadows filling the room writhed in response.
Wriggle wriggle—whoosh—!
At that low command, the darkness permeating the space shattered apart, seeping into shadows everywhere.
Through window cracks, doorways, hallways, and beyond—climbing building walls to blanket the entire city.
Spreading without end, they leaped from shadow to shadow across Paris, stretching even to the suburbs in a vast web that engulfed the whole area.
Despite the meticulous interior sweep, the effective radius spanned over 20 kilometers.
A divine authority-like power that hijacked natural shadows, making detection near impossible.
That was it.
The Tyrant's unique skill: Shadow Lord.
And the signature ability he'd poured nearly all his karma into strengthening.
"...Found you."
It didn't let him down.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Southwest Paris, near Versailles in a forested park.
Deep in the mountains, Heinz 2nd stood motionless and quietly spoke.
"You've arrived."
In the utter absence of presence around him, the words seemed mere soliloquy—but...
"Ho, something felt off. You were waiting after all?"
"Eh, figured you'd show around now."
"Sharper instincts than expected."
A pitch-black humanoid shadow rose soundlessly from the ground and replied nonchalantly.
Thanks to senses cranked to the max synergizing with Insight, Heinz had barely detected the presence. He eyed the figure with renewed curiosity.
'A type who's honed just his unique skill to the pinnacle. Definitely level 9, but his vampire factor is ridiculously low. Didn't know that was possible.'
Back when Heinz 2nd had just started operating in Seoul.
He'd learned about the level system distinguishing modern vampires' prowess from Gamma, the first otherworldly vampire he met on Earth—a hardliner from the Blood Alliance.
Something normally inconceivable, but the Earth singularity had drawn vampires from myriad dimensions into one spot.
Bound by their shared bloodlust, but the variances were so vast they could hardly be called the same species.
Like chimpanzees and orangutans among great apes.
'Hence, they measure the common trait all share—vampire factor—to subdivide into levels.'
From a standardless state, it was undeniably efficient.
Higher concentration and volume undeniably meant greater vampiric power output.
But it offered only a rough gauge, not an absolute measure of strength.
'Makes sense when you think about it.'
Heinz had maxed his vampiric might through aggressive kin cannibalism, but martial prowess wasn't solely factor-dependent, was it?
Awakeners had their unique skills, and even without, pinnacles could be reached via other paths.
A mere lesser vampire could grind to archmage through grit; conversely, a swordmaster could end up a bottom-rung vamp for whatever reason.
Heinz felt it viscerally facing the Tyrant before him.
The guy's factor barely scraped true blood levels in quantity, yet its quality screamed transcendence, as if reborn.
'No surprise. Without freak methods like mine, pure vampiric transcendence is borderline impossible.'
Exhibit A: Alpha, driven mad forcing factor density.
And the shadow freak was reeling from the exact opposite shock.
"What... the hell are you? That blood magic power... it's insane."
"How? Refining factor to that purity should take centuries, not decades...!"
After their initial exchange, they'd silently sized each other up—until he finally spoke in a rattled tone.
Evidently, even close-range Existence Denial wasn't foolproof against such caliber.
"Need to drag this out?"
Timing his probe perfectly, Heinz swept his hand.
Hummm—!
Skipping steps via Acceleration's causality, the prepped Blood Mystery barrier snapped into place.
Sensing the threat, shadows erupted explosively from the Tyrant.
Like a hedgehog bristling its quills.
"Long road ahead—let's wrap this quick."
"Heh, picked up a few parlor tricks and think you're hot shit?"
"We'll see..."
Heinz felt the blazing thirst of Bloodline Craving as a long blood blade formed in one hand and a swirling crimson tempest in the other.
"Are they really just tricks?"
For reference, he'd grown by cannibalizing kin and Hybrid Evolution, springboarding off stolen victims' karma.
He wasn't just packing max energy reserves.