A stranger wearing black-rimmed glasses suddenly appeared, launching a single kick that sent five black-clad men sprawling to the ground.
"Clary, are you okay?"
At first, Clary was puzzled about who this man was, but the familiar voice quickly clued her in.
Of course, the hero stepping in at this moment was none other than our protagonist, Roy!
"Roy?"
"It's me."
Clary's face lit up with surprise, though worry soon crept in.
"Be careful! These guys aren't fazed by bullets, and they've got guns!"
Not fazed by bullets?
The black-clad men Roy had just knocked down were already getting back up.
To be fair, Roy had held back—about 99% of his strength. With his current power, a little too much force could easily splatter an ordinary person, and getting blood all over Clary wouldn't exactly be a good look.
Still, his kick should've kept normal people down for a while. The fact that these guys were already standing meant something was seriously off.
"Where'd this mutt come from, daring to mess with our business?" one of the black-clad men, his body riddled with bullet holes, growled as he stood, glaring at Roy.
His accent was strange, and his mouth was foul.
"What did you just say?" Roy's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I said—"
Bang!
Roy wasn't about to let this guy repeat his filthy insult. In an instant, he shifted into his Ghost Wolf form, his explosive speed making it seem like he teleported. Before anyone could react, he slammed the guy's head into the wall.
The whole sequence was so fast that the other black-clad men were caught off guard. They'd been expecting a show, but instead, they got a front-row seat to their buddy's misfortune—kind of hilarious, in a twisted way.
"Who do you work for?" Roy asked, brushing the dust off his hands as he eyed the remaining black-clad men.
These guys were clearly no ordinary thugs—they were organized, supernatural types. Roy knew of a few such groups, like the Cabin or Amarcham, which were essentially normal people dabbling in supernatural power. But organizations that could deploy multiple supernatural operatives? Those were rare—maybe some demon-worshipping cults or the Witches' Union.
The remaining black-clad men hesitated, clearly wary of Roy's display of strength. They stepped back, and one of them, mustering some courage, spoke up.
"Friend, we work for Lord Valentine. We just want to take the girl—no need for trouble. I apologize for my companion's behavior. How about we call it even?"
Talk about a quick change in tune. Classic bully-the-weak, fear-the-strong behavior.
Roy shook his head, his tone firm. "Sorry, this girl's my friend. No one's taking her against her will. And who the hell is Valentine?"
Roy genuinely hadn't heard of this Valentine guy. At least give him a title or something.
Hearing Roy's words, Clary felt a surge of safety, suddenly understanding why Mary had fallen for him.
"You're asking for it!" the black-clad man snapped.
When negotiations broke down, it was time to fight. The remaining ten black-clad men pulled out their guns, ready to fire.
But then, a voice came from behind them.
"I was wondering why there's suddenly a head stuck in my back wall. Turns out it's you, Mr. Black."
The voice sounded familiar—dangerously so.
The shadows of the alley couldn't hide anything from Roy's Ghost Wolf dark vision. And there, standing in the dim light, was a handsome face.
Lucifer!
So, this was the back alley of the Time Bar?
Roy's lips twitched. These black-clad guys were really unlucky.
"Mr. Lucifer, sorry, I didn't realize this was behind your bar."
"No worries. I was getting bored anyway. Didn't expect to catch a good show."
Lucifer crossed his arms, glancing at Clary with an unreadable expression.
Their casual banter, completely ignoring the black-clad men, pissed them off. Their guns suddenly felt like useless sticks.
"You've got some nerve underestimating us!" one of them shouted.
Roy turned to the speaker. "Underestimating you? So what?"
"Open fire!"
Ten guns blazed in the narrow alley, leaving no room to dodge. Yet Roy moved through the hail of bullets like he was strolling through a park, effortlessly avoiding every shot. Now the black-clad men were panicking.
"Get him!"
Since guns were useless, they rushed Roy for close combat, their faces twisting into fanged, monstrous expressions. Clary shrank back in fear.
"Vampires, huh?" Roy muttered, a bit surprised.
He'd only encountered a few vampires in America, at the Sangiovese Bar. From what he knew, vampires mostly stuck to Europe. Were these guys from Wall Street or something?
The fight was over almost before it began. With Roy's current strength, a few low-level vampires didn't stand a chance. Clary barely blinked, and the black-clad men were embedded in the walls and ground in various creative ways.
This time, Roy made sure not to smash any vampires into the Time Bar's back wall—less trouble that way.
Action Director: Jerry's Cousin
"All done," Roy said, brushing off some dust with a relaxed expression. That fight wasn't even a warm-up for him.
With just 20% of his power, Roy had taken down all the vampires.
From a distance, Lucifer clapped. "Nice work, Mr. Black. Care to grab a drink at the bar?"
Roy instinctively stepped back, suddenly wary. Was Lucifer really into something weird?
Noticing Roy's odd look, Lucifer frowned. "Mr. Black, why are you staring at me like that?"
"Mr. Lucifer, can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Do you… have any special hobbies?"
Lucifer, though new to the human world, caught Roy's meaning instantly. His face darkened.
"You jerk, what are you implying?!"
The alley shook slightly, the air growing heavy, making Clary feel like she was suffocating.
Was he that mad? Maybe Roy had misjudged him.
"Wait, Mr. Lucifer! I heard some stories about you and got the wrong idea!"
"Those are just rumors spread by bored idiots!" Lucifer snapped, clearly fed up. Of all the demon lords, he had the most stories—and plenty of them weren't exactly wholesome.
But now Roy was pretty sure Lucifer's preferences were normal. The drink invite was probably just boredom. A demon lord from Hell likely didn't have many friends, and the one friend Roy knew of, Adrian, was always gallivanting around the world.
"Mr. Lucifer, once I wrap things up here, I'll swing by for a drink."
Lucifer nodded, his expression softening.
Just then, police sirens wailed in the distance. The LAPD was finally showing up.
Not one for trouble, Lucifer vanished. The alley was left with just Roy, Clary, and eleven unconscious vampires.
"LAPD! Drop your weapons and put your hands on your head!" several officers shouted, rushing into the alley with guns drawn.
Roy, prepared as always, flashed his badge. "I'm an FEA agent. This case is under FEA jurisdiction now."
The officers frowned, clearly unhappy. Two LAPD cops had been killed by these perps, and the department wanted to handle it themselves. Problem was, these weren't your average criminals.
Roy called Saltana in front of the officers. Soon, their superiors ordered them to stand down and leave the scene.
As mentioned before, the FEA's status had skyrocketed after the Dead Silence incidents. Now, they were on par with the IRS and the Pentagon. If the FBI and CIA couldn't handle it, the FEA would—often with White House approval to act first and report later.
The LAPD might butt heads with the FBI or CIA, but they wouldn't dare challenge the IRS or Pentagon.
Only then did Roy have a moment to check on Clary. "You okay?"
Clary, still dazed, looked at Roy like she was waking from a dream. "Am I dreaming?"
For a girl who'd lived a normal life for twenty years, this was all surreal.
Roy helped her up and gently patted her cheek. "Snap out of it. This isn't the time for daydreaming. You'd better start thinking about why these vampires were after you."
The vampires had clearly been tracking Clary with purpose. They weren't just snatching her for a snack, right?
Clary, coming to her senses, shook her head. "I… I don't know! They showed their true forms, and only then did I realize they were vampires, not gangsters. Right before this, at the Ferris wheel, my mom called. She said I was in danger and told me to hide somewhere safe until she could find me."
Clary didn't mention that her mother, Jocelyn, had also warned her not to trust anyone. But Clary felt Roy was an exception.
"That's weird," Roy said, frowning at the unconscious vampires. Looked like he'd need to interrogate them to get answers.
Good thing he hadn't gone lethal.
Soon, Saltana arrived with a team of FEA agents.
Saltana had been reinstated and, thanks to her connection with Roy, had Gerald's full trust. She was often tasked with high-priority cases, though it left her swamped and stressed.
"Saltana, you look exhausted," Roy noted, spotting the dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't looked like this last time.
"Don't get me started. Lately, vampires from Eastern Europe have been sneaking into California like crazy. I'm swamped!" Saltana said, exasperated.
"Eastern European vampires? I thought these guys' accents sounded off. Are they the ones sneaking in?"
Saltana checked one of the vampires, pulling back his collar to reveal a tattoo on his neck. She nodded. "Yup, Eastern European vampires. All part of the Council of Elders."
"What's the Council of Elders?" Clary asked, curious.
Saltana, noticing Clary for the first time, gave her a once-over. "Roy, is this your new girlfriend?"
Clary blushed but, surprisingly, didn't mind the comment too much. In fact, she felt a tiny spark of joy.
"Don't talk nonsense," Roy said. "She's Mary's best friend and the target of this incident. These vampires were after her."
Saltana's eyes widened. "That's a thing?"
She then explained the Council of Elders.
In this world, vampires originated from Cain, Adam's son, cursed by God for killing his brother to live without sunlight, sustained by blood, and immortal. Cain was the first vampire.
Out of loneliness, Cain created his own progeny—the second-generation vampires. They, in turn, created thirteen third-generation vampires.
After God cleansed the world with the Great Flood, Cain mysteriously vanished. The third-generation vampires betrayed and wiped out the second generation, dividing their legacy to form thirteen vampire clans.
Post-Flood, with most supernatural beings gone, vampires—despite their weaknesses—briefly became dominant, creating a dark dynasty that enslaved humans.
That didn't last long. An angel, Gabriel, descended and decimated the vampires, becoming their greatest nemesis. After that, vampires kept a lower profile, though they still caused trouble discreetly.
The turning point came in modern times. Human technology—especially nukes—scared vampires, even the third generation. To settle internal disputes and negotiate with humans, the Vampire Council of Elders was formed.
(End of Chapter)