A chaotic dream. Jack stood in infinite darkness. He saw… a girl. She was screaming, her eyes filled with despair. Two children shrieked, struggling in the arms of a captor.
Jack reached out. "NO!" But a dark shadow lunged from behind. Thump! A sharp pain in his neck. He felt sharp fangs pierce his skin. His blood was drained. His breath caught. His body convulsed. Then… darkness swallowed him. Memories shattered like a broken mirror.
AAAAAAAAAAAA!
Jack bolted upright, vomiting a thick pool of black blood. BLECH! BLECH! COUGH! COUGH! His entire body convulsed. The wound on his chest… INSTANTLY HEALED.
A grotesque scene unfolded before everyone. Impossible. No one could survive a strike from the Long Sword. The entire room fell silent. The survivors stiffened, fear choking their throats. They thought they had escaped the nightmare. But the demon was still alive.
"NOT AGAIN…?"
The old man took a deep breath, but his voice was noticeably weaker. Blood still dripped from his nose. His eyes grew dim. "COUGH… COUGH…"
"I'VE REACHED MY LIMIT…"
He gripped the sword, feeling his life force continue to drain away. Jack stumbled to his feet. He slowly advanced, each step heavy as stone. He raised a trembling hand towards the old man, his mouth mumbling broken words.
"Tell… me…"
The old man slightly narrowed his eyes, then thought—"No other way… I'll have to risk it."
SWISH! He drew his sword again. A brilliant golden light emanated from the blade… But this time—everyone saw it clearly. The light was eroding the old man's very life force. His hair grew whiter. Deep wrinkles etched his face. His life was being drained bit by bit. Everyone clung to each other, preparing to face their grim fate.
"I'LL END YOU RIGHT HERE!"
The old man raised his sword high, pouring in his last ounce of strength.
WHOOSH!
A single sword strike came down—aimed directly at Jack's head.
But—
THUNK!
The blade stopped just millimeters from his forehead. Because… Jack had changed. His bloodthirsty, inhuman face—WAS GONE. His vicious, blood-red eyes—WERE NO MORE. His eyes… they were now amber-gold. The color of twilight. The color of an awakened soul. He was still a Vampire. His skin was still pale. His fangs were still sharp. But his eyes were different. He looked up, directly at the old man. His gaze was resolute, with something deeply… human.
"WAIT!"
His voice was no longer a savage scream. But the voice of a real human. He trembled, taking a step back.
"What did you do to me? Please… don't kill me. I… I have to find my wife and child…! THEY'RE IN DANGER! PLEASE!!"
His voice was hoarse, trembling with every word. A cold wind blew through the bunker. Those around them stared, mouths agape. No one could believe what they had just heard. An Elite Vampire… A merciless killer… An inhuman demon… Was now pleading… with human eyes. What in the world was happening?
As for the old man—he tightened his grip on the sword. His eyes narrowed, staring intently at Jack. Then he softly whispered a single word.
"Purification…?"
CLANG! The sword fell to the ground, embedding itself diagonally into the cold stone floor.
"I… I did it…?"
The old man whispered, collapsing to his knees, trembling all over.
"After more than seventy years… is this really true…?"
His voice broke, as if he couldn't believe his own eyes. Jack grabbed his arm, his eyes filled with panic.
"What did you do to me!? Why… can't I remember anything!?"
He felt empty, as if his entire past had been torn away. Fragments of memories vanished in a fog. Unfamiliar faces, muffled voices in the darkness. He didn't know who he was.
But… the memories of Jack the Butcher… were still intact. All the massacres. All the desperate screams. All the souls he had crushed. He looked down at his hands. Pale skin. Fingers once stained with blood.
"I… I'm a Vampire? No way… I… killed so many people…? That's disgusting…"
His throat constricted, his chest tightened. Something wanted to surge out, like a nausea of the soul.
Then suddenly—he remembered. His family. They were in danger! Without a moment's hesitation—Jack lunged for the door.
SWISH!
A rough hand clamped onto his wrist. The old man.
"CALM YOURSELF!"
Jack struggled, his eyes filled with urgency.
"I HAVE TO FIND THEM! I HAVE TO SAVE THEM! PLEASE, LET GO!"
But the old man didn't release him.
"I WILL HELP YOU! BUT YOU MUST LISTEN TO ME!"
Jack froze, his breath ragged. He looked into the old man's eyes, and saw—Sincerity. Not hatred. Not contempt. But truth.
But… those around them didn't share that look. They began to whisper. Malicious murmurs infiltrated the space.
"GET HIM OUT OF HERE! GET OUT! OLD MAN, GET OUT WITH HIM! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT THE APOCALYPSE! THAT'S RIGHT! THE LEGEND IS TRUE! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CAUSED ALL OF THIS!"
They had forgotten who had just saved their lives. They had forgotten who had fought for them. They had forgotten who had protected them. All was distorted by fear.
"HUMAN NATURE."
The old man looked down, saying nothing. Those accusatory words—he had heard them all his life. But right now… He only cared about one person. Jack.
He gripped Jack's hand tightly, his gaze unwavering. Jack trembled. He felt lost. Like a newborn in a strange world. He didn't know who he was. He didn't know what had happened. He only knew one thing—he didn't want to kill. Didn't want to be a monster anymore.
And amidst that chaos—A pair of eyes watched him. A girl. Her head covered by an old scarf, standing hidden in the crowd. She said nothing. She showed no fear. She didn't curse like the others. She simply stood there. And looked at Jack. Her eyes were sharp, emotionless. No one knew what she was thinking. No one knew what she was waiting for. Only one thing was certain—she had noticed Jack.
And that was no coincidence.