Chapter 28: The Arms Dealer

The streets of London at night are not a safe place.

Every year, countless Muggles fall victim to Dark Wizards, deranged Muggle murderers, or are abducted by malevolent magical creatures, their organs stolen in the process. Vampires often play the role of hunters in these grim scenarios, much like what was happening in a dark alley this very night…

A young woman, fresh out of university and only a month into her first job, hurried along the street. She had quickly adapted to her role as an office worker—along with its long hours and her boss's unwelcome advances. While this new reality gave her a sense of accomplishment, it also left her feeling deeply unsettled. Tonight was no exception. Having worked late and missed the last train, she was walking home when she encountered a boy in a dark alley.

The boy was dressed in a striking punk-inspired robe, his pale skin contrasting sharply with his glowing crimson eyes. He was stunningly handsome, so much so that the woman found herself wondering if she might someday have a child as adorable as this.

The boy blocked her path, giving a faint smile as he opened his mouth. From between his lips, two sharp, glistening fangs emerged.

"Ma'am..." His voice carried an almost magical quality, compelling the woman to halt in her tracks, her gaze fixated on him as he slowly stepped closer.

—Wait, why did I stop?

The sight of his teeth sparked unease in her mind, and she began to question why her body wasn't responding to her commands. But resistance was futile—she, like countless Muggles before her, had fallen into the clutches of a vampire.

"Ma'am, you're too tall. Please kneel," the boy said softly. Despite the terror in her wide eyes and the tears streaming down her face, her knees bent of their own accord. As she knelt before him, the boy stepped forward, tearing open the collar of her blouse. Leaning in, he sniffed her neck before muttering irritably, "She's not a virgin."

From the shadows came a lilting, teasing voice: "But your sister is, Nolan. Would you like to try a taste of your dear elder sister's blood? I bet it's as sweet as those blood-flavored gummy candies you love so much!"

Nolan wrinkled his nose, muttering, "Drinking the blood of a powerful vampire progenitor? That's no different from stabbing myself with a silver blade. I'm not suicidal yet." Without further ado, he opened his mouth wide and sank his fangs into the woman's neck.

—He's biting me... he's draining my blood!

The word vampire flashed through her mind, and she was overcome with shock and terror. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and a warm trickle seeped down her legs. She felt her blood—and with it, her life—being rapidly drained away.

Before her very eyes, the veins in her arms lost their color as her skin shriveled and dried. Along with her blood, her vitality was being consumed.

"Ahh…" Nolan exhaled contentedly as he released her. Crimson blood dripped conspicuously from the corner of his mouth. Pulling out a handkerchief, he dabbed his lips with the politeness of a Muggle after a meal. "Thank you for the meal," he said softly to the lifeless corpse.

Felicia pouted, folding her arms in irritation. "Can we leave now, Nolan? It stinks here!"

"I'm not like you, Felicia," Nolan replied, his voice calm yet tinged with intensity. "You can come and go from Hogwarts as you please, but I've been trapped in that wizarding prison for so long. I've been forced into a bloodless, celibate existence, and it's made me irritable. I need to blow off some steam."

His crimson eyes, gleaming with excitement, darted through the night until they locked onto another target—a blonde woman leaving a nightclub. Without hesitation, he followed her.

That night, four women fell victim to the young vampire's hunger in London. It wasn't until the fourth—a virgin—that Nolan finally found the taste he desired. The fresh, pure blood brought him immense satisfaction, leaving him in a state of euphoria.

An hour later, after finishing his hunt, Nolan followed Felicia to an estate. The sprawling property, with its intricate architecture, appeared to be from the Victorian era—the height of the British Empire's glory days.

Nolan lifted his nose, sniffing the air. "The scent of gunpowder… and danger," he said softly.

Felicia chuckled lightly. "Nolan, I know you love Muggle war toys. Then you must have heard of Heckler & Koch, the arms manufacturer. This estate belongs to the boss of Heckler & Koch's operations in Britain, one of the world's largest arms dealers. We have to tread carefully here—one wrong move, and we could find ourselves blasted to bits by all that gunpowder!"

Nolan raised an eyebrow.

Felicia wasn't wrong—he did have a fascination with Muggle weapons. The firearms, in particular, were astonishing in their simplicity and efficiency. At the age of seven, Nolan had used a silver bullet to blow apart the head of a fully grown vampire from a safe distance.

The two transformed into flying creatures to bypass the estate's guards. Nolan took the form of a raven, while Felicia became a stunning blue-crowned pigeon.

The two birds circled the mansion twice before slipping through an open window. Inside the room sat a sharp-eyed, muscular man, who froze in shock as he watched the blue-crowned pigeon morph into a beautiful woman. Moments later, he began trembling with excitement!

The man quickly fell to his knees before Felicia, bowing low and shouting fervently, "Oh, my great progenitor, you've finally deigned to show mercy to your humble servant! Will you grant me a drop of your blood and bestow upon me eternal life? I, Wactor Heckler, pledge to kiss the shoes of my great progenitor and offer my undying loyalty, if only you will free me from the fear of death!"

Nearby, Nolan—now back in his human form—frowned in displeasure. "You pledge loyalty only if granted new life?" he said coldly. "That sounds like bargaining with the Von Draugr family. Every member who joins our bloodline does so with absolute devotion. From where I stand, you don't qualify."

Felicia seemed momentarily confused, as though she didn't quite grasp the situation. After a long pause, her expression shifted, and she exclaimed with mock outrage, "Huh? Oh… oh! Yes, Nolan is absolutely right!" She crossed her arms and put on a stern face, seemingly forgetting that this situation stemmed from her own plans. "Exactly! Even if I ignore you and refuse to grant you my blood, you should still be eternally loyal to me. Only a servant like that deserves to be called faithful! You have no right to demand what your master doesn't wish to give!"

Wactor Heckler immediately began kowtowing, bowing his head repeatedly in an effort to apologize.

He was German, a country known for producing many vampires, including some of the most illustrious vampire nobles in history. As a young man, Wactor had learned about vampires through his family elders, though at the time, he had scoffed at the notion of their superiority. But as he entered middle age and began to feel the decline of his body and the onset of illnesses, his attitude shifted. The idea of ageless immortality had become increasingly appealing.

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