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The heart monitor displayed a flat line.
Beep—
George stared at the monitor, then instinctively placed a hand on his chest, as if suddenly realizing something.
His heart had stopped beating.
But he was still alive...
The implication was clear.
From this moment on, George was no longer the captain of the 21st Precinct. He was the vampire captain of the 21st Precinct.
Gwen's eyes immediately went to Hawk.
Meeting her gaze, Hawk gave a small nod.
Gwen sucked in a sharp breath, then looked at her father, who sat on the bed with his hand pressed to his chest, his expression frozen in shock.
"Dad—"
BANG!
The hospital room door burst open. A breathless night-shift doctor rushed in.
And then, The doctor looked at Hawk and Gwen standing there, then at George sitting upright on the bed, staring at him with hollow eyes. Finally, his gaze landed on the shrieking monitor. His mouth twitched.
The next second, Without a word, he walked straight to the monitor, canceled the alarm, shut the machine down entirely, then turned and headed for the door. Only when he reached the threshold did he look back, his expression thoroughly annoyed. "Is holding your breath fun? We're busy here."
With that—
The night-shift doctor turned and walked out, ignoring the two officers who had rushed over, his face dark with irritation.
The two officers who'd arrived saw that George was fine and visibly relaxed. One of them looked at Hawk. "Mr. Phoenix."
"That's me."
"There's a woman downstairs named Katherine Pierce. She says you asked her to come."
Hawk's eyes lit up. He nodded. "She's here?"
The officer nodded, then spoke into his radio as he and his partner left the room, coordinating with the colleagues who had already secured the area.
The officer downstairs received the message and walked over to Katherine Pierce, who stood just outside the police cordon.
"You can go up now."
"Thank you." Katherine smiled, thanked him, and walked into the hospital building under the officer's watchful gaze.
Soon enough, The elevator arrived.
Ding.
Katherine stepped out and didn't need to ask for directions. Following the lingering scent of vampires—and the distinct smell of a freshly turned one—she easily found George Stacy's room.
The two officers at the door exchanged a glance, then opened it for her.
Katherine thanked them again, stepped inside, and immediately spotted the newly turned vampire George sitting on the bed, his expression defeated and ashen.
Then she shifted her gaze to Hawk, standing nearby.
"Mr. Phoenix."
"Just Hawk." Hawk smiled. "You and Gwen are friends. That makes you my friend too. Did you find the daylight ring?"
He had no idea whether Katherine's first meeting with Gwen had been an accident or intentional.
Hawk didn't need to know.
Once again, Judge by actions, not intentions. Whatever Katherine's reasons for approaching Gwen, the fact remained that Gwen didn't dislike her. In fact, Gwen had even brought Katherine into her shopping crew.
So—
Gwen's friends were his friends.
Katherine nodded and pulled a daylight ring from her pocket.
Just as she was about to speak, Gwen had already rushed over, hugged her, and said, "Thank you."
Gwen had been wondering why Hawk had called Katherine here, but the moment she heard "daylight ring," it all made sense. After hugging Katherine, she took the ring and hurried over to her father's bedside.
At first, Gwen thought the ring looked a bit small, but the moment it touched George's finger, it automatically expanded, fitting perfectly and snugly onto his hand.
The next moment—
George, who had been sitting motionless on the bed like a statue, suddenly blinked rapidly as his pupils contracted. He came back to himself and looked down once more at the hand resting on his chest.
It was simple.
He could feel it again—the heartbeat that had stopped, now beating once more.
The daylight ring, forged through witchcraft, didn't just allow vampires to walk in sunlight. It also restored their heartbeat and body temperature, making them indistinguishable from ordinary humans.
After all, during the days of the Holy Inquisition—
Witches were burned at the stake.
So were vampires.
And that was precisely why witches and vampires had banded together for survival.
George looked down at the daylight ring on his left hand—the ring that had given him back his heartbeat.
"This is..."
"It's a daylight ring." Gwen explained quickly. "Dad, as long as you wear this ring, you won't have to fear sunlight. And Mom and everyone else won't be able to tell you've become a vampire."
George looked up at Gwen.
Gwen's face was full of tension, and her eyes held a pleading look as she met her father's gaze.
Their eyes locked.
Hawk watched the scene unfold, then turned to Katherine and said quietly, "Blood Apocalypse. Sounds like an organization that worships vampires. Ever heard of them?"
Katherine blinked.
"Blood Apocalypse?"
"Yeah."
"No." Katherine shook her head. "But finding them won't be hard."
She'd been to New York before. She knew the city well. But that had been in the last century.
This time around, Katherine hadn't been nearly as reckless as she'd been during her previous visits.
After all, Hawk lived in New York now.
Since arriving in the city, Katherine had spent most of her time consolidating the assets she'd accumulated across the country over the centuries. After liquidating several properties, she'd purchased a place near Bleecker Street.
That way, she'd be close to Hawk. If the Original vampire Klaus decided to break his word and come after her, she could seek Hawk's protection immediately.
Katherine genuinely didn't know anything about this Blood Apocalypse organization Hawk had mentioned.
But that was fine.
Even though she hadn't done much in New York lately, she still knew where the vampire gathering spots were.
So if Blood Apocalypse had any connection to New York's vampire community—
Katherine was confident she could track them down quickly.
And this was an opportunity.
Smart women knew when to take initiative.
...
After finishing her explanation, Katherine looked at Hawk. "I'll contact you the moment I find them?"
Hawk glanced at Gwen, who was still locked in silent eye contact with her father, then nodded.
"Thanks."
"No problem." Katherine smiled, glanced at Gwen once more but chose not to interrupt, then turned and left the hospital room.
After Katherine had gone, Hawk looked at George—who seemed to have fallen into despair—and cleared his throat to get Gwen's attention.
"Gwen."
"Hm?"
"Let's go to Howard and Simon's school later and withdraw them. Then we'll enroll them in public school."
"Okay... wait, what?"
Gwen blinked, staring at Hawk in confusion.
George also looked up at Hawk.
Hawk kept his hands in his pockets, looking at Gwen as he continued. "Oh, and that apartment where Helen, Simon, and Howard are living? Make sure to contact a real estate agent first thing tomorrow morning. Otherwise, when next year's property taxes come due and no one pays them, the court will auction it off."
Gwen's expression went from confused to understanding as she caught on to Hawk's performance and played along.
"Why wouldn't we be able to pay next year's property taxes? Dad's salary and the precinct's benefits easily cover that."
"Only if he's alive. What if George doesn't want to live anymore?"
"...If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Dad would never give up on living."
Gwen shot Hawk a look, unable to stop herself from objecting, then turned to George, who was watching Hawk intently. "Right, Dad?"
George said nothing. He just kept staring at Hawk.
"See?"
"He's not saying anything."
"So we should act fast. Sell the apartment, give the money to Helen for retirement, and as for Howard and Simon... if push comes to shove, we'll put them in the foster system."
"I'm not taking care of them, that's for sure."
"And if you insist on taking care of them, I'm going to have to seriously reconsider whether we should even get married."
"Because..."
"Women who sacrifice everything for their families are terrifying."
"..."
Hawk ignored George's stare and kept talking. When he got to the part about family-sacrificing women, his expression looked genuinely horrified.
And it was the truth.
Everyone knew.
Women who sacrificed everything for their families really were terrifying.
Just then—
George spoke, his voice as low and serious as ever.
"Hawk. You don't need to goad me."
"Goad?"
Hawk blinked, looking at George, then smiled. "I'm not goading you. You're the one who's planning to abandon your own family. Why would I rush to take on responsibilities that are yours?"
George's face remained expressionless. "You won't have to."
Gwen, standing to the side, watched her father nervously.
"Dad..."
"Don't worry."
George came back to himself, smiled gently at Gwen, then—under her watchful gaze—pulled off all the monitoring cables attached to his body, got out of bed, and wrapped his arms around his nervous daughter. His movements were careful, slow, and gentle. His voice was soft.
"How could I ever leave you and your mother behind?"
"Dad!"
Gwen hugged George tightly, her gaze shifting to Hawk. With her expressive green eyes, she gave him a huge silent thumbs-up.
Hawk smiled faintly.
Just then—
The hospital room door opened again. One of the officers standing guard stepped in, holding his phone, and looked at George, who had already gotten out of bed and was hugging his daughter. "Captain, someone named Ben Urich is calling for you. Says he's a friend of yours."
George raised an eyebrow, about to take the phone, but then froze in place as realization hit him.
Hawk noticed, took the phone from the officer, nodded to signal him to leave, and once the officer was gone, switched the call to speakerphone and held it in front of George.
George glanced at Hawk—who had just threatened to break up with his daughter if he dared to die—then looked down at the phone in Hawk's hand. After organizing his thoughts, he spoke in a low, steady voice.
"This is George Stacy."
"Captain Stacy! Thank God. Sounds like you've recovered."
The voice on the other end was young, but there was something off about it—an underlying weariness that didn't match the youthful tone. It gave the impression of an old man speaking with a young person's voice.
George frowned.
"Who are you? Where's Ben?"
"I am... heh. Captain Stacy, now that we're the same kind of people, you still don't know who we are?"
"...Vampires!"
George's voice was low, laced with fury. "You turned Ben into a vampire too?"
The person on the other end laughed.
"Yes. We're vampires."
"Can't be helped. You wouldn't stop chasing us, Captain Stacy."
"You wanted the killer. We gave you a killer. But you still weren't satisfied. So we had no choice but to grant your wish."
"Ben Urich is much smarter than you."
"Only slightly, though."
"He was very careful, investigating in secret. But we knew all along. We just didn't bother with him because he never contacted anyone."
"Until now."
"You've been a real headache for us, Captain Stacy."
"But..."
"We admire you. We even want to befriend you. So rest assured—Ben Urich hasn't been turned into a vampire."
The man's voice carried a strange, languid quality. Then his tone shifted. "However, while he's not a vampire, whether he lives or dies... that's up to you, Captain Stacy."
George's expression darkened. He didn't waste words.
"What do you want?"
"We want to be friends with you, of course, Captain Stacy. And please, don't be angry. Becoming a vampire is a precious gift many in your precinct would kill for. And yet, we gave it to you so easily."
It wasn't a lie.
Why did vampire legends persist? Why did they have such a strong presence in Hollywood?
Because people loved them.
Once again—
Vampires came with side effects, sure. But as long as you avoided those, the first and greatest benefit was immortality. You'd never age. You'd live forever.
So—
The number of people who admired, worshiped, and wanted to become vampires far outnumbered those who despised and hunted them.
From that perspective, the vampire on the phone wasn't wrong.
For most humans, becoming a vampire was a blessing. And they'd given George that blessing freely.
But—
George wasn't most people.
Most people fell into the "immortality is a pursuit" category. George belonged to the "immortality is a curse" camp.
George was Catholic.
He pursued justice partly because of his professional ethics. But the other reason was his belief that if he upheld justice, when he died, he would return to Heaven. There, he and Helen would become angels together, eternally serving at God's side.
And now—
He'd become a vampire.
Forget going to Heaven. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up in VIP seating in Hell.
George's mental state had shattered.
He'd genuinely considered suicide moments ago.
But it wasn't Hawk who had changed his mind.
It was the realization that suicide was also a sin—one that would send him straight to Hell anyway.
More importantly, He'd seen the pleading look in Gwen's eyes. And then he'd heard Hawk, that bastard, threaten to break up with his precious daughter if he dared to die. That had been the final nail in the coffin of his suicidal thoughts.
Now George had only one thought.
This was God testing him.
Yes.
A test.
God had turned him—a devout Catholic—into the most despicable creature imaginable. Not because George had done something wrong. But because it was a trial.
God hadn't let him die. That meant it wasn't his time yet.
If that was the case—
Then he would hunt down every vampire hiding in New York's dark corners. He would find them, one by one, and in God's name, he would eliminate every last one of these evil creatures.
George's eyes flickered with determination. Then he looked at the phone in Hawk's hand. "Fine. We're friends now. You can let Ben go."
The vampire on the other end laughed.
"Captain Stacy, that's not how friendship works. We've given you unprecedented power. In return, you should give us something."
"What do you want?"
"This storm started with you. Naturally, it should end with you. I'm deeply sorry about your wife's death, but you will personally put an end to this case. Someone will come forward and confess. Once you close the case yourself, we can meet face to face."
"..."
George listened to the vampire's words, his eyes narrowing. He was on the verge of losing control when the door opened.
Helen, returning from the surgical waiting area, walked in. Seeing that George had gotten out of bed, she instinctively opened her mouth to speak.
George saw her lips part and shouted.
"Fine!"
CRACK!
"..."
Hawk raised an eyebrow, looking down at the phone George had just crushed in his palm with a single slap.
At the same time—
Helen's voice followed immediately after.
"Holy shit!"
"George, your inju—"
"I'm fine."
George looked at Helen, who had rushed to his side in shock, her hands already trying to push him back onto the bed. He quickly reassured her, then scanned her body with sharp eyes. His gaze locked onto a very familiar bullet hole in the chest of her jacket.
"That's..."
"This..."
Helen noticed where her husband's gaze had landed and finally registered what he was looking at. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bullet that "should have" fallen out of her body.
George carefully controlled his still-unfamiliar strength, took the bullet from Helen's palm, and looked at her.
"What is this?"
"I'm not sure."
Helen shook her head in confusion.
"I felt like someone came into the room, shot me in the chest, and then I died."
"But..."
"I think I came back to life."
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