"Man, why are we running so much?" Jeremy asked irritably, now out of breath. "You might not realize it, but traveling above the speed of sound is bad as hell."
"What are you complaining about? You're traveling in my arms like a princess," I replied, provoking him.
"Exactly because of that. My body doesn't have the resistance of a vampire," he growled, sitting down on the ground. "Damn it, I thought I was going to die. I felt my bones breaking… Pearl and Anna must have felt a lot of pain."
Ooohhh how cute, he's more worried about his girlfriends than himself.
"Don't worry. They're 500-year-old vampires. This is nothing for them," I said. And it was true. Both of them were on the level of a Marvel Asgardian in physical resistance, which left something lingering in my mind: how does this kid handle them?... Never mind.
"But—" Jeremy tried to continue, but I stopped him.
"Don't argue," I said, ruffling his hair. "And you don't even realize how much stronger you are now. If you were a normal human, you would have shattered into thousands of pieces… Congratulations, you reached the level of a newborn vampire."
Jeremy stood still for a second.
"Was that supposed to be a compliment?"
"It's a huge improvement," I answered. "Compared to a normal human, a newborn vampire is practically a demigod."
He took a deep breath, still sitting on the asphalt. His skin wasn't as pale anymore. The veins in his neck weren't bulging like before. His body was adjusting. Adapting.
The human body is a curious thing. It complains, breaks, bleeds… but it also learns. It always learns.
"Newborn?" he repeated. "So I'm still weak?"
"Compared to me, your girlfriends, and the people you usually hang around with… you are."
I tilted my head.
"Compared to Jeremy from a month ago? You're basically a level boss."
He let out a tired laugh.
The wind started blowing again, but now softer. No ancient presence, no predator hiding. Just road, night, and the strange feeling that reality had stretched too far and was now snapping back into place.
Jeremy looked at his own hands.
"I really felt my bones vibrating… but nothing broke."
"Microfractures," I said. "They probably happened. Your body just… fixed them."
He stared at me.
"You say that like it's normal."
"In my world it is."
He fell silent, processing.
Then he frowned.
"Wait. If I endured that… then I can fight better now?"
Ah. There it is.
The moment the kid realizes he's not just the guy holding the flashlight anymore.
I smirked.
"You can. But that doesn't mean you should start testing that against any ancient vampire that shows up."
He stood up slowly. Still a bit unstable, but firm.
"I don't want to fall behind."
That came out more honest than he intended.
The problem with walking alongside powerful creatures is that you start measuring your value by their power.
And Jeremy didn't freeze.
"You're not behind," I said, more serious now. "You're in transition."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Transition to what?"
I shrugged.
"Something inconvenient for our enemies."
A brief silence.
Then he smiled.
"I hate when you talk like that."
"I know."
In the distance, a branch snapped.
Instinct.
We both turned our heads at the same time.
Jeremy didn't need me to carry him this time. He stepped half a pace in front of me. Not for protection — for positioning.
That's interesting.
The night felt too calm. And calm nights are just the universe warming up its muscles.
"So," he murmured, posture ready. "If something shows up…"
"You try not to die," I finished.
"And you?"
"I keep eating my fries while you fight."
He laughed.
But his eyes were different.
Less boy.
More predator in training.
The curious thing about power is that it doesn't arrive with a roar. It arrives like this — in the moment someone decides they won't be dragged by the story anymore.
And Jeremy just took that step.
And my concern is how he's going to handle it.
"Okay, so what are we looking for?" Jeremy looked around. There was only brush and grass.
"There have been reports of mutilated cows," I said, scanning the area. "And drained blood."
"Stefan-type vampires?" Jeremy asked.
"No… cow blood, even though it's awful, has nutritional value close to human blood," I said. And it was true. Cow blood has almost the same kind of effect on a vampire's body as human blood, but it tastes terrible. "The issue is that many cows were torn apart. A smart vampire who doesn't want to feed on humans… would buy the farm."
"So newborns who don't control compulsion yet?" Jeremy replied, then looked at me with wide eyes. "Nik, I'm not killing newborns who are trying to live the right way."
Ooohhh, he's so moral. That's adorable. That means the mark really didn't have any mental effect on him.
"Of course we're not going to kill them," I replied. Of course I wouldn't kill young vampires, especially ones who don't feed on humans. "We'll see if they really are vampires and teach them how to survive."
Jeremy relaxed a centimeter. Just one.
"Teach?" he repeated. "Since when did you become a tutor?"
"Sorry… wrong wording," I said. "You're the one who's going to teach."
He tried to argue, but the smell arrived.
I looked toward the dark field ahead.
The smell was wrong.
It wasn't just blood. It was panic. Animal panic, raw, spread through the air like rust.
The farm fence appeared between the trees, crooked wire, old wood. No light in the main house. Too much silence for a place with cattle.
Jeremy inhaled deeply.
"If it's really newborns… they don't know how to control the hunger."
"Newborns are emotion with fangs," I replied. "The world is lucky most of them only get stronger with age."
We walked slowly. No absurd speed now. Calculated steps.
A few more meters and we found the first carcass.
Jeremy froze.
The cow was ripped open at the flank, but not cleanly. It wasn't organized feeding. It was impulsive attack. Too much strength, too little technique.
"This isn't Stefan-style," Jeremy murmured.
"No. This is desperation."
I knelt near the mark in the ground. Irregular drag. Two individuals, maybe three. One heavier. Deeper footprint.
Jeremy came closer.
"Can you feel it?"
"I can."
Residue. Young vampires have an energetic signature… chaotic. Like a badly tuned radio.
And it was close.
A crack inside the barn.
Jeremy turned his head instantly.
Good reaction.
"Remember what I said," I told him quietly. "You have strength. Control is what matters."
He nodded.
The barn door creaked when I pushed it.
Inside smelled like iron and damp wood. In the back, two silhouettes.
A boy. A girl. Both with red eyes vibrating with that mixture of fear and hunger. Dried blood on their clothes.
They didn't look like monsters.
They looked like terrified teenagers.
The girl stepped forward, defensive instinct.
"Stay away!"
Her voice came out shaky, but her body was ready to attack.
Jeremy slowly raised his hands.
"Calm down. We're not here to hurt you."
The boy beside her growled quietly. Newly turned. Too much strength in the body, zero idea what to do with it.
I tilted my head.
"How many days?"
Silence.
"Four," the girl answered after hesitating.
Four days. Critical phase. Hunger becomes a storm in that window.
"Did you kill anyone?" Jeremy asked directly.
They looked at each other.
The answer was in their eyes.
No.
"Just… this," the boy murmured, pointing outside.
Jeremy released the breath he had been holding.
I stepped closer.
They tensed.
"If I wanted to kill you, I already would have," I said calmly. "You're making stupid mistakes. That attracts hunters. Older vampires who won't care about your sad story."
The girl swallowed hard.
"So what do we do?"
Jeremy looked at me.
There it was.
The turning point.
You can crush something disorganized…
or structure it.
"First," I said, "you learn to hunt without making a spectacle."
Jeremy completed it, surprising even himself:
"Second, you learn to control the hunger before it controls you."
The boy looked at Jeremy with something close to hope.
"You're going to… teach us?"
Jeremy hesitated for a second.
"Of course he will," I declared, pointing at Jeremy. "This guy is the greatest vampire trainer in history."
"Nik!" Jeremy shouted, embarrassed.
"You want me to forgive this?" the farmer shouted angrily with a gun in his hand. "I'm going to kill the animal that did this."
"How about I buy your farm and you don't try to kill the animal?" I said honestly.
"This farm is not for sale," the old farmer shouted and pointed the gun at me. "Move aside or you die too."
Hmmmm, so scary, hahahaha.
"Fifty million dollars," I said without thinking twice.
"Deal," the old man answered immediately, now happy and putting the gun away. "But how do I know you'll actually pay?"
I took my phone and showed him my bank account.
Money I had extorted from vampires.
The old man's jaw dropped.
"I'll get my things in the morning," he said, smiling.
Sure, sure. Go ahead.
Did I buy the farm to save those kids?
Of course not, silly.
I realized most vampires are like those kids.
They're not warriors. They're normal people who had the misfortune of running into a bored vampire who decided to turn them.
Most of them actually live like Stefan, drinking rabbit blood that has almost no mana nutritional value.
Unlike Pearl and Anna, who are already 500 years old and only need blood to replenish energy after using powers, the younger ones…
Up to around 400 years old need to drink blood at short intervals even without using powers.
So why not create a cow-blood industry for young vampires?
Maybe even improve the taste.
The old man drove away happy, probably already planning to buy three new pickup trucks, two houses, and a boat he'll never use.
The pickup disappeared down the dirt road.
Silence.
Field.
Cows chewing grass as if the world wasn't about to become a supernatural economic experiment.
Jeremy kept looking at me.
I kept looking at the field.
Then I started laughing.
Not a small laugh.
The kind of dangerous laugh someone makes when they just discovered a flaw in the system of the universe.
"Hahahahahaha…"
Jeremy sighed.
"Oh no."
I pointed at the field.
"Do you realize what this is?"
"A farm."
"WRONG."
I spread my arms dramatically toward the darkness.
"This is a monopoly waiting to happen."
Jeremy rubbed his face.
"I knew I was going to regret asking."
I started walking through the field like a mad professor lecturing cows.
"Jeremy… Jeremy… Jeremy…"
I pointed at a random cow.
"That one."
The cow stared back with the existential serenity of a creature whose only thought is grass.
"That creature is a renewable blood production platform."
Jeremy looked at me like he was evaluating whether I had hit my head during the supersonic run.
"You're calling a cow a platform."
"YES."
I pointed at him.
"Because you're still thinking small."
Jeremy crossed his arms.
"I'm thinking normal."
I ignored him completely.
I grabbed a stick and started drawing numbers in the dirt.
"An adult cow has forty liters of blood."
"You already said that."
"But nobody needs forty."
I drew another number.
"A young vampire needs… let's say… half a liter to one liter per day to stay stable."
Jeremy frowned.
"… you're doing vampire math."
"I'm doing economics."
I pointed to the field.
"A thousand cows."
Jeremy blinked.
"… there are a thousand?"
"Probably."
I drew a huge circle in the dirt.
"A thousand cows. Even if each one safely provides small quantities…"
I looked at him.
"That sustains hundreds of young vampires."
Silence.
Jeremy started realizing it.
"… you didn't buy a farm."
"No."
I raised a finger.
"I bought supernatural food infrastructure."
He ran his hand through his hair.
"You are disturbingly excited."
"Because this is brilliant."
I started pacing again, laughing quietly.
"Think with me…"
I pointed to the barn where the two newborns were peeking.
"How many vampires exist out there?"
Jeremy answered:
"A lot."
"How many know how to control themselves?"
"Few."
"How many don't want to kill humans but also don't want to live eating rabbits like Stefan?"
Jeremy sighed.
"… many."
I clapped once.
"EXACTLY."
I pointed dramatically to the field.
"Problem."
Then to myself.
"Solution."
Jeremy pointed at me.
"Bigger problem."
I ignored him.
My mind was already several steps ahead.
Or twenty.
"First step…"
I started counting on my fingers.
"Production."
Another finger.
"Storage."
Another.
"Distribution."
Jeremy blinked.
"Distribution?"
"Jeremy… do you think vampires are going to drive three states just to drink blood at a farm?"
He thought.
"… some would."
"Yes, but I'm an entrepreneur, not a religious pilgrimage."
I pointed to the road.
"Regional centers."
Jeremy's eyes widened.
"You're talking about…"
"Franchises."
He almost choked.
"FRANCHISES?!"
"Of course."
I started walking in excited circles.
"Vampire fueling stations."
Jeremy began laughing nervously.
"This is absurd."
"This is inevitable."
I pointed at him.
"And you know the best part?"
"I'm afraid to ask."
"Competition."
Jeremy looked around.
"There is no competition."
I smiled slowly.
"YET."
He went silent.
"Because now that I thought about it…"
I pointed to my head.
"… some ancient vampire somewhere might think of it too."
Jeremy sighed.
"Of course."
"So what do we do?"
He answered without thinking:
"You don't start a supernatural economic war."
I laughed.
"Hahahaha."
I stopped in front of him.
"Jeremy."
I pointed at the ground.
"First rule of business."
He crossed his arms.
"What?"
"Control the market before it exists."
Silence.
The two newborn vampires were listening like it was an evil lecture.
Jeremy spoke slowly.
"… you want to monopolize cow blood."
"Correct."
"For vampires."
"Absolutely correct."
He pointed at me.
"That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard."
"Weird and profitable."
Jeremy rubbed his face.
"You're planning to crush competitors that don't even exist yet."
"Of course."
"That's psychotic."
"That's strategic."
I started laughing again while looking at the field.
"Hahahaha… look at this…"
I spread my arms.
"A thousand cows."
Jeremy murmured:
"You're bragging to cattle."
"Because they are my future empire."
Jeremy pointed at me.
"You need sleep."
"I need refrigerated trucks."
"You need therapy."
"I need a logo."
He raised both hands.
"A LOGO?!"
"Branding is important."
Jeremy turned toward the barn.
"You two."
The newborns froze.
"If he starts talking about vampire marketing…"
I pointed at him.
"They need to hear this."
Jeremy took a deep breath.
"Come back to Earth."
I looked at him.
"I am on Earth."
I pointed to the field.
"I'm just seeing it… on a larger scale."
Jeremy stayed silent for a few seconds.
Then asked:
"… how much money would this make?"
I smiled slowly.
Because that's the question that separates curiosity from vision.
"Jeremy…"
The wind passed through the field.
"… enough that ancient vampires who hate me will have to buy food from me."
He stared at me.
Long silence.
Then he murmured:
"… that's disturbingly genius."
I shrugged.
"Thanks."
He pointed to the barn.
"But first…"
The two young vampires were still there, nervous.
"… you teach them not to rip cows in half."
I sighed.
"Operational details."
Jeremy rolled his eyes.
"Empire later. Training now."
I nodded.
Sometimes even visionaries need to deal with immediate logistics.
But deep in my mind…
The empire was already growing.
And honestly?
It was hard not to laugh.
And Silas can wait a little while.