Before his 11 AM meeting, Vicky decided to rectify a lingering piece of his old, powerless life. The watch he'd bought with his scholarship money felt cheap, a reminder of a life spent scraping by. He needed an accessory that matched his status, a symbol for himself, not for others. He walked into Azure Horologie, the most exclusive watch boutique in the city, located on the ground floor of the gleaming Azure Tower.
The air inside was hushed, the plush carpet absorbing all sound. It was a temple of wealth, designed to intimidate. A salesperson, impeccably dressed, glided over. His smile was polite but dismissive, his eyes flicking over Vicky's expensive but casual attire—a twenty-year-old was a browser, not a buyer.
"Good morning, sir. Are you looking for a gift for someone?" the salesman asked smoothly. "Perhaps something from our sportsman's collection? We have some lovely chronographs."
The implication was clear: Here is the affordable section for you.
Vicky ignored the subtle slight. His enhanced senses scanned the room, bypassing the steel and gold, detecting the intricate, almost living craftsmanship of the true masterpieces. He pointed to a watch under heavy glass in the central display, a behemoth of platinum and sapphire. "That one. The Patek Philippe Grandmaster Chime."
The salesperson's professional smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. "Sir, that is not simply a watch. It is a grand complication, a marvel of engineering. It is... exceptionally priced and reserved for our most dedicated, long-standing collectors." Not for a child who just walked in off the street.
"I am a dedicated collector," Vicky stated, his voice flat and cold. The casual authority in his tone made the man flinch. "I'll take it."
The manager, a stern-looking man in a tailored suit, was alerted by the tension and hurried over. "Young man, I'm afraid my colleague is correct. This piece is part of an exclusive allocation. It is not for casual sale, regardless of one's ability to pay."
Vicky sighed. This was the friction of the human world he despised, the petty gatekeeping of men who mistook their position for power. He pulled out his phone and dialed Marcus Keller.
"Marcus," Vicky said, his voice calm. "Yes, I'm at Azure Horologie in the Tower... I am, thank you. The manager is hesitant to sell me the Grandmaster Chime... He says it's 'reserved'." Vicky listened for a moment, a thin smile playing on his lips. "Oh, really? The entire building? I see. And the regional director is interrupting his golf game in Dubai to fly here? Unfortunate. For him. Yes, that will be all. Thank you."
He hung up and looked at the manager, whose face had gone from stern to ashen-white.
"Lieutenant Keller, who, as you've just been informed, sits on the board of the holding company that owns this entire building," Vicky said, his voice dangerously soft, "informs me that the 'reservation' on that watch has just been lifted. He also informs me that your regional director is on his way here—a twelve-hour flight—to personally apologize for your staff's lack of judgment. Now... will you be boxing the watch, or should I wait for him to do it?"
The manager, sweating profusely, fumbled for his keys, his hands shaking. "My... my profound apologies, Mr. Thorne. Right away, sir. Of course."
Vicky paid for the seven-figure watch with a single, untraceable transfer from Nightwatch Holdings and strapped the heavy, magnificent piece to his wrist. He left the stunned, silent staff in his wake, his point made. The world no longer dictated terms to him.
The Coffee and the King
Detective Mila Torres was waiting in the tower's bustling cafe, her nerves on edge. She had a clear view of the boutique and had watched the entire confrontation. Her jaw was tight. She'd come to investigate a financial anomaly, but she had just witnessed a display of raw, ruthless corporate power that was both terrifying and, to her surprise, deeply compelling. This wasn't a criminal; this was a corporate predator.
Vicky arrived, radiating a calm charisma that cut through the cafe's noise. He didn't just walk; he possessed the space he moved through.
"Mila," he said, sliding into the booth. His eyes, clear and sharp in the daylight, seemed to see everything. "You look like a high-caffeine, no-sugar, get-to-the-point kind of person. Am I wrong?"
Mila was momentarily thrown by his directness. "Black coffee is fine, yes. And you're right, I'll get to the point." She clicked her pen, her "journalist" persona snapping back into place. "Vicky, your move on Vance Holdings wasn't just a market correction. It was a surgical execution. My... readers... want to know what drives a man to so completely dismantle a rival."
Vicky took a sip of water, his gaze pinning her. "Rival? Damien Vance was a bug. A loud, irritating bug who believed power came from his father's noise. Real power, Mila, is control. It's silence. I didn't dismantle him. I simply exposed his weakness to the world. The market did the rest. Bugs get stepped on; it's not malice, it's just a difference in scale."
Mila was struck by his cold, unshakable logic. He didn't sound like a criminal. He sounded like a king, a legislator. "And Nightwatch Holdings? It's a ghost. I've tried. How do you build an empire in complete secret?"
"You don't," Vicky said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping. The cafe noise seemed to fade. "You build it in the light. You find people who are overlooked, people the world has discarded. People who are drowning. And you give them a purpose. You give them a second chance."
As if summoned by his words, a young waiter, overwhelmed by the rush, stumbled. A large tray of glasses, coffee, and pastries crashed to the floor, shattering with a sound that silenced the entire cafe. The cafe manager stormed over, his face purple with rage. "You clumsy idiot! That's the third time this week! That's coming out of your pay! You're fired! Get out!"
Vicky held up a hand. A simple, almost lazy gesture, but it carried an authority that stopped the manager mid-rant. Vicky turned his calm gaze to the terrified waiter, who was blinking back tears. "Are you alright?"
"Y-yes, sir. I'm so sorry, I just..."
Vicky ignored the mess. He pulled out his phone, tapped it twice, and then showed the screen to the manager. It was a bank transfer receipt. The amount made the manager's eyes bulge.
"That covers the damages, the inconvenience, and a two-thousand-dollar tip for this young man," Vicky said, his voice still quiet but now laced with ice. "You will not fire him. In fact, you will give him a promotion and a raise. If I hear he's been treated unfairly, or that he's been let go, Lieutenant Keller will buy this cafe, and by six o'clock tomorrow, it will be a parking garage. I'm sure you have been working here for long and have memories, good ones I guess as I've seen you here before long ago. So you wouldn't want people to come and break everything and make it a dirty old garage, and maybe you ending up loosing your job. Am I right?"
The manager, pale and trembling, just nodded, dumbfounded.
Vicky turned back to Mila. Her professional mask was completely gone. She was staring, her recorder off. She had seen him be ruthless (the jeweler), clinically cold (Vance), but this... this was tangible, immediate kindness. This was protection. It was a walking, terrifying contradiction.
"That was... incredibly generous," Mila said, her voice softer than she intended.
"It was efficient," Vicky corrected, the warmth vanishing. "Loyalty is the only currency that matters, Mila. You can't buy it, but you can earn it. Sorry for showing you something unpleasant, but I had to show my force to that manager as I don't think he would've let that man go easily. Sometime you need to show your power to do good although it may look bad to many. " He stood, the heavy platinum watch gleaming on his wrist. "I have another meeting. Send me a draft of your 'article.' I'm very interested to see what you write."
He left. Mila sat alone, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her investigation was completely, hopelessly compromised. She was supposed to be hunting a monster, a "Red Flash" anomaly. But she had just met a man who felt more like a savior, and she found herself, against all her training and all her instincts, intensely... drawn to him. Her objectivity was shattered.
The Level 6 Hunt,
That night, the mask of the kind, charismatic philanthropist was gone. Vicky Thorne stood in the echoing darkness of the abandoned subway tunnels, the new headquarters of The Crimson Pact. Flanked by his two Tier 2 Vampire Lieutenants, Keller and Vance, he faced his new recruits. The ten dock workers and mechanics, now loyal Tier 1 - Night Walkers, looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.
"Our target tonight is a pack of three Tier 2 Alpha-Skirmishers," Vicky commanded, his voice echoing with supernatural power. "They are fast, heavily armored, and hunt as a coordinated unit. They are far stronger than anything you have faced. Lieutenants, you will lead the assault. Recruits, you will support from the flanks. Do not break formation. Show me what your loyalty is worth."
The battle was not a chaotic brawl; it was a military execution.
"Keller, V-formation! Suppress the left flank with arrow volleys!" Vicky ordered. "Vance, you are the anvil! Hold the center, use your shield! Absorb the charge!" "Recruits, aim for the joints and eyes! Fire on my mark!"
Keller used his tactical mind, coordinating the recruits' Blood Arrow volleys to stagger the Alphas. Vance, a mountain of pure rage, acted as the anvil, roaring as he activated his Blood Shield to absorb the crushing charge of the lead beast, while his Blood Claws tore through its armor. Vicky watched, analyzing his new army's efficiency, their fear, their loyalty under fire. They held the line. They obeyed without question.
The pack of powerful monsters was annihilated in under sixty seconds.
Tier 2 Alpha-Skirmisher defeated x3.
+600 XP.
XP Total: 665/1200 XP.
LEVEL UP! Level 6 achieved.
Stat Points available: +3
VICKY THORNE: TIER STATUS
Tier: 2 - Vampire
Level: 6 (665/1200 XP)
Stat Points: 3
Next Tier (Vampire Knight): Level 30
Vicky smiled, feeling the rush of new power fill him. His charm offensive had disarmed the detective, and his new army was growing stronger by the night. He was winning on all fronts.
Vicky is now Level 6, and Mila is personally compromised. This creates a critical window for him to expand.