Manhattan, New York—an affluent district pulsing with nightlife.
Among its dense cluster of bars stood an establishment called The Otherworldly Demon, located barely a block from Liang Wan's apartment.
To ordinary people, it was simply a high-end bar with a moody aesthetic—stylish, mysterious, and just strange enough to be intriguing.
But Lin lan knew better.
This place was a crossroads for the otherworldly.
The term referred to beings that possessed powers far beyond ordinary humans, yet were not human themselves. Vampires. Werewolves. Creatures born of darkness. Different races, same shadowed world.
And now, Lin lan thought, I'm one of them.
Standing outside the entrance, Lin lan lowered the brim of her hat, pulled her coat tighter, and wrapped her scarf another turn around her neck. The Demon Bar welcomed humans and otherworldly beings alike—but being seen in his true form by regular patrons would cause complications he had no interest in dealing with.
He pushed the door open.
Warm, mellow music flowed out to meet him. Inside, the lighting glowed dim gold—carefully calibrated to be intimate without being oppressive. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, voices overlapping in low conversation. Some patrons wore masks. Others didn't bother hiding what they were.
Lin lan walked straight to the bar and took a seat.
The bartender approached, towel over his shoulder, already preparing to ask for an order.
"Nothing to drink," Lin lan said calmly. "I'm here for information."
He placed a gold coin on the counter.
The bartender picked it up, eyebrows lifting as he examined it. Ancient. Roman-era, by the look of it.
Is this guy some relic that crawled out of a grave? the bartender wondered.
That single coin was worth tens of thousands of dollars.
His attitude changed instantly.
"What kind of information are you looking for?" he asked with a polite smile. Money spoke every language. Even for a member of the Blood Clan.
"I'm looking for the Golden Blood Pool," Lin lan said flatly.
The bartender's smile tightened. He slid the coin back across the counter.
"That's not casual gossip," he said. "That's high-level vampire intelligence. Way above my pay grade. If you want answers like that, you'll need a professional intelligence broker. The kind you pay obscene amounts of money to."
He paused, then added dryly, "If the price is right, they'll probably tell you what color underwear the U.S. president wore this morning."
Lin lan was about to ask where to find such an agency when two large men stepped in close—one on each side.
"Sir," one of them said politely, "our boss would like to meet you."
Their tone was courteous. Their posture was not.
This wasn't an invitation.
So we're doing it this way, Lin lan thought, unfazed.
He shrugged. "Before I agree, I need to know—your boss. Man or woman?"
"A woman," the other man replied.
"Pretty?"
The man didn't hesitate. "I've never seen anyone more beautiful."
Lin lan glanced at him, impressed.
Good answer. Flattering someone to their face was easy. Flattering them when they weren't present—and making sure it reached them—that was real skill.
"Well," Lin lan said, standing, "I'm not busy. Lead the way."
The Demon Bar was enormous—three floors above ground, three below.
Most guests never went past the second basement level. The third basement was reserved for private VIP rooms, accessible only to those with status, power, or both.
There was only one exception.
The bar's owner.
Duchess Nancy.
Since the entire establishment belonged to her, no one dared question her use of the private rooms.
Nancy's beauty was impossible to ignore.
Golden hair like sunlight. Sapphire eyes. Skin flawless and pale. A figure that drew attention without effort.
She possessed a mature, intoxicating charm—every glance, every casual motion subtly dangerous.
And yet, despite her beauty and immense wealth, no man dared make a move on her.
Once, a notorious crime boss had tried. He planned to take both her fortune and her body by force.
By the next morning, his entire organization—over a hundred men—was dead.
Not one survivor.
The underworld trembled.
Investigations turned up nothing unusual. Official records listed Nancy as thirty years old, from an ancient English noble family—a hereditary duchy with over a thousand years of history.
Perfect. Clean. Too clean.
Those who understood power knew what that meant.
From that day on, no one caused trouble on Nancy's turf.
And no one coveted her again.
Lin lan was escorted into one of the private rooms.
A woman sat on the sofa, legs crossed, slowly sipping red wine.
Golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. A faint flush colored her cheeks, enhanced by the soft lighting. She wore a red silk embroidered qipao, its high slit revealing long, elegant legs.
Lin lan stopped.
"…Wow."
He caught himself instinctively comparing her to Liang Wan.
Both were stunning—rare beauties. But where Liang Wan possessed a youthful purity, the woman before him radiated mature allure, the kind that seeped into the air and refused to be ignored.
Dangerous.
And powerful.
Lin lan felt it immediately—the faint but unmistakable dark aura around her.
A vampire, he concluded.
He sat down casually. "So. Who are you? I don't believe we've met."
"Connections take time," she said, smiling softly. "You can call me Nancy."
Her gaze lingered on him.
Something thudded—twice—where Lin lan's heart used to be.
Impressive, he thought. This kind of charm works even on a skeleton.
If a normal man were here, he'd probably lose his mind on the spot.
Lin lan almost swallowed—then remembered he no longer had saliva.
This is torture, he lamented silently. So tempting. Absolutely unreachable.
He wiped nonexistent tears from his eye sockets and forced himself to refocus.
"Let's skip the atmosphere," he said. "Why did you bring me here?"
Nancy picked up the remote and turned on the television.
Footage of the recent gang war played on-screen.
A familiar skeleton tore through enemies with brutal efficiency.
She looked at him. "That's you, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Lin lan replied. "No point denying it."
"Good." Her smile deepened. "I own the Demon Bar—but that's just a hobby. My real work is as an agent for dark gladiators."
She leaned forward slightly.
"After watching this footage, I think you have exceptional potential. I invited you here to discuss a partnership."
"Dark gladiators?" Lin lan tilted his head. "You mean like the Roman arenas? Prisoners and slaves forced to fight to the death?"
"The concept is similar," Nancy said smoothly. "But the scale—and the stakes—are far greater."