Home, Sweet Home

Anil Patel, sprawled in the corner, clung to life. From the edge of his vision, he caught sight of the young man approaching.

His face twitched, a dry rattle escaping his throat. His body, numb with pain, instinctively recoiled.

Everything he had witnessed defied belief.

Years ago, Anil had handpicked me from a rabble of delinquents, impressed by my cunning.

To his surprise, I had not only thrived in Pinewood County Police but had even befriended vampiric fauna, effortlessly aiding the police in their dealings with the supernatural.

Despite my success, Anil kept his distance, harboring a secret contempt and disgust.

Yet, in this moment, terror gripped him.

One against three, I had effortlessly slaughtered the ape vampires. Such power couldn't be acquired overnight.

He recalled my seemingly indulgent lifestyle – the endless partying, drinking, and womanizing that left me clutching my kidneys after climbing a flight of stairs. A chill ran down his spine.

What could possibly be the motive behind such a charade?

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, I reached his side. Anil instinctively raised his hand to shield his face.

In the next instant, he found himself hoisted onto my back.

I felt the middle-aged man trembling and sighed. "Why so scared? It's not like you lost a limb."

Anil Patel remained silent.

The head of homicide, responsible for the entire county's safety, was shaking like a leaf even after the beastvamps were dead.

If not for the eight hundred troops stationed in the barracks, the citizens of Pinewood County would have been devoured by now.

I was about to ask for his address, but then it clicked, and I instinctively headed towards his home.

Exiting the station, I turned onto East Street.

It was late, the darkness obscuring the path, but I needed no light. Every step was familiar. Soon, I stood before a two-story house and knocked.

"You're still alive? I thought you'd met your maker out there."

The door creaked open, revealing a stunning woman in her thirties, clad in pink silk nightgown. Priya Patel, with her warm brown eyes, flowing black hair, and effortless grace. Her skin was smooth and taut, her figure voluptuous.

Upon recognizing me, her expression shifted, a spark of joy igniting in her eyes. "What brings you here? Is that old fool still at the station?"

I stepped aside, revealing the "old fool" slumped on my back.

The woman's surprise was fleeting, replaced by a glare at the sluggish Anil Patel. "Drinking tea at the station reduced you to this? Is there anything you can do right?"

Even I felt a pang of sympathy for the lieutenant.

His job was a mess, his authority undermined, and now he faced scorn even at home. Approaching fifty, he had a young, beautiful wife who clearly didn't respect him.

I carried him upstairs, depositing him on the bed. The old man promptly turned his face to the wall, feigning unconsciousness.

I saved your life, and you can't even muster a thank you... I shook my head, leaving the room.

Upon exiting the bedroom, I was met with a warm, supple body pressing against mine.

"What happened tonight?" Priya nestled my hand against her ample bosom, her voice laced with concern. "Are you alright? Come, let me have a look."

I faltered for a moment, my resolve wavering.

Then, with a glance towards the closed bedroom door, I gently disengaged. "The Lieutenant killed a vamp. I must return to the station to handle the aftermath. I won't impose any longer."

The beautiful woman watched me depart, stamping her foot in frustration. "He killed a vamp? Don't take me for a fool, you heartless boy."

Leaving the Patel residence, I stood on the deserted street and adjusted my clothes, trying to dispel the lingering warmth and softness of Priya's embrace.

It wasn't that I was fixated on her, but rather the contrast with my own circumstance that left me feeling hollow.

While I disliked the situation at Patel's house, at least, like Wade, he had someone waiting for him, a light in the window to welcome him home.

My own life was a stark contrast. Orphaned as a child, I had no family, no friends, no one to turn to for solace but the fleeting comfort of paid companionship.

I drew a deep breath of the cool night air and summoned the panel.

[Apevamp (pre-First Realm): Total lifespan 326 years, 44 years remaining - absorbed]

[Apevamp (pre-First Realm): Total lifespan 355 years, 78 years remaining - absorbed]

[Apevamp (pre-First Realm): Total lifespan 420 years, 83 years remaining - absorbed]

[Remaining Absorbed Lifespan: 222 years]

…

I intend to invest all this accumulated lifespan into the Astral Fortification.

The power of Lightstrike was undeniable, a glimpse into the First Realm's potential.

When I killed the last ape vampire, I felt a profound shift within me, the transformation of my energy and blood into a fine mist.

The dagger was no longer a tool reliant on physical strength or technique, but a conduit for something beyond.

However, it was merely a makeshift path forged by an ordinary man. Forcing my way into the First Realm would always be inferior to the genuine article.

"Two hundred years, I wonder if it will be enough."

I was no prodigy. If I wanted to carve my own path, it would require an immense investment of time.

I had neither the means nor the status to acquire an existing method. And time was not on my side.

The disappearance of the three ape vamps in Pinewood County wouldn't go unnoticed. Unlike the black-skinned jackalvamp and Lucky Six, this was a family matter. The elder ape would not rest until it had avenged its kin.

Pinewood County was a remote region, surrounded by four vampire clans: Golden Chief in the west, the apes in the eastern mountains, a serpampire known as Sarpa-Rani, and a band of foxvamps.

I had already crossed two of them.

While my actions were clean, beastvamps didn't need proof for vengeance. Mere suspicion could be enough to justify wiping out the entire county.

"Home first, then I'll decide."

A headache throbbed behind my eyes. I was no hero.

Before, with only a year left to live, I had embraced a reckless abandon. But now, with two decades of life unexpectedly thrust upon me and a glimpse of the elusive First Realm, the thought of giving up was unbearable.

Who would willingly surrender life when the possibility of living remained?

My mind raced as I finally reached my small house.

As a sergeant, my police-provided housing was a step above Wade's studio apartment, but not by much.

Despite making a considerable income through distortion, buying a large house held no appeal to me. In Pinewood County, with a few exceptions, I could sleep wherever I pleased.

My home was a disaster zone.

With a grimace, I began tidying up despite my exhaustion. Lacking a broom, I resorted to tossing the accumulated trash and empty wine bottles into the backyard.

The sight of the grimy sheets on the bed made me scowl. I promptly discarded them as well.

Finally, I lay down on the bare mattress, my eyelids heavy.

Technically, my current body no longer required sleep. But perhaps the onslaught of recent events, the unpleasant sights I had witnessed, demanded a respite.

A wave of drowsiness washed over me.

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment of peace.

My only complaint? The absence of a soft, fragrant body to hold and drift off to sleep with.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

I opened my eyes, staring at my bed in confusion.