Midnight was over.
Bodies were back where they belonged.
But the trauma? Oh, the trauma lingered like garlic breath after a vampire buffet.
Machio Araki trudged downstairs, yawning. The pendant that caused the soul swap now lay cracked on the kitchen counter like a cursed cookie from hell. Tachibana was nursing her pride (and boobs) upstairs, while Veronica lounged upside-down on the couch, legs over the headrest, sipping blood from a wine glass shaped like a heart.
"You two look like you got reverse-spanked by fate," she quipped, swirling her drink.
"Don't even start," Machio grumbled, rubbing his neck. "I still twitch when I think about tampons."
Then the door exploded.
BOOM!
Shrapnel flew across the living room. The pendant shattered into dust. Wind howled like the void had opened.
Smoke cleared—and in the doorway stood a man.
No… not a man. A vampire.
Tall, pale, and built like a marble statue. His long crimson hair flowed behind him like silk blood. His coat—black with red stitching—flared dramatically, even though there was no wind.
He stepped forward, boots cracking tile. Fangs glinting.
"Machio Araki," he said, voice smooth as silk, deadly as steel. "By the authority of the Vampire High Council, you are sentenced to death."
Machio blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"And you, Natsume Tachibana," he continued, eyes gleaming as he turned to the stairs. "The Crimson Pact is a forbidden bond. For binding a vampire soul to a human boy, your punishment is execution."
Tachibana stepped out, hair still wet from the shower, towel clinging to her curves. She stared, towel slipping just a little.
"…What did I do this time?"
Raka raised a single white-gloved hand.
A spear of blood formed in mid-air.
Machio's eyes widened. "HEY—!"
He tackled Tachibana just as the spear shot past, embedding in the wall and melting the wallpaper.
They rolled on the floor, tangled in the towel. Her leg over his. His hand on—oh no.
"GET YOUR HAND OFF MY—"
"IT'S AN ACCIDENT I SWEAR!"
Veronica clapped from the couch.
"This is fun."
Raka descended the stairs like a god of destruction. "You've mocked the laws of the night long enough."
His eyes narrowed.
"And now… you pay."
[ACTION MODE: ENGAGED.]
Machio stood, cracking his neck. "Alright. You wanna play Dracula Ninja? Fine."
He raised his fists.
A faint red glow radiated from his knuckles.
"I've been itching for a fight ever since my soul got manhandled!"
Tachibana got up too, tying her towel tighter. "He's serious. Raka was trained by the Crimson Wardens. He hunts rogue vampires. Like me."
Machio's fists burned brighter. "Let him try."
Raka vanished.
FLASH.
Machio barely raised his arms in time—CLANG!
A blood sword struck him, sending him flying through the hallway. He crashed into the laundry room, socks flying everywhere.
"Fast!" he groaned.
Tachibana lunged next—towel flaring as she summoned her parasol. A glowing circle activated at the tip—a magical seal.
FWOOOSH!
Flames burst forth.
Raka sliced them away with a flick of his hand. He was behind her in an instant.
"Predictable."
His palm hit her back.
CRACK.
She screamed, crashing into the wall, falling like a broken doll.
Machio's eyes went wide.
"NATSUME!!"
She coughed. "He's… way too strong…"
Blood trickled from her mouth.
Raka raised his blade, uncaring. "One down."
And that's when it happened.
Machio's rage… ignited.
The pendant may have broken. But the Crimson Pact—the bond between soul and blood—was still alive.
Machio's body shuddered.
A shockwave burst from his chest.
Red energy wrapped around him like fire.
His eyes turned glowing crimson.
Veins glowed beneath his skin. Fangs. Nails. Aura like a burning sun.
Veronica stood, dropping her glass. "Oh. That's new."
Machio moved.
He didn't run.
He appeared.
Right in front of Raka.
Fist forward.
BOOM.
The punch connected with Raka's face—and sent him flying through three walls.
Tachibana gasped. "What… is that form?!"
Machio turned, crimson aura flaring, hair rising as if underwater.
His voice was deeper. Wilder.
"This is what happens when you hurt someone I care about."
Blood coiled around his fists like dragons.
"Welcome to the Crimson Berserker Mode, bitch."
[NEW POWER: Crimson Pact Resonance – ACTIVE]
[UNLOCKED TECHNIQUE: Blood Nova Strike]
Raka emerged from rubble, one eye bruised, lip bleeding.
He smiled.
"Finally… a real challenge."
They clashed.
Fist to blade.
Red on red.
Each strike shook the house.
Upstairs, Azumi hid under her bed with earplugs in.
"Not again…"
In the living room, Veronica dodged debris with a wine bottle.
"I should charge for this."
Tachibana, bloodied but breathing, watched as Machio roared.
His muscles swelled.
Blood sigils lit across his chest.
He summoned a blood whip—and yanked Raka toward him.
"Blood Nova—!!!"
He jumped—twisting midair—
"STRIKE!!"
The impact was apocalyptic.
The ceiling cracked. The lawn outside exploded.
Raka slammed into the yard hard enough to make a crater.
Smoke rose.
Machio landed on one knee, panting. The red aura flickered.
Tachibana crawled over. "Are you… okay?"
He looked up, grinning. "Told you. Don't mess with me."
She grabbed his hand.
"You idiot. That was hot."
They stared.
Then awkwardly looked away.
Veronica poked her head out from the kitchen. "So… threesome again? Or nap first?"
Raka groaned from the crater.
"I'm not… done…"
But just then—
A black blade pierced his chest.
Behind him stood a girl in black shrine maiden robes.
Long purple hair. Crimson eyes.
"Raka. You were not authorized to execute them yet."
Raka coughed blood.
"Yuki…?"
She withdrew the blade, letting him fall.
Then turned to Machio and Tachibana.
"By order of the High Council… the Crimson Pact trial is delayed."
She bowed.
"For now."
Tachibana blinked. "Wait, who are you?"
Yuki smiled faintly. "You may call me… the Crimson Judge."
And then vanished in a gust of wind.
Machio collapsed onto his back, chest heaving.
"Well… that escalated quickly."
Tachibana flopped beside him, towel barely hanging on.
"We're so dead."
Veronica peeked in.
"I'll bring snacks."
[QUEST COMPLETE: Crimson Pact – SURVIVED]
[NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: What the Hell is a Crimson Judge?]
TO BE CONTINUED...