From Morca's eyes alone, Adam knew refusal was pointless.
Unless he revealed the truth.
But Morca wasn't Rat.
Rat could follow without questions. Morca could not. Even fallen, he was still a noble—sharp enough to see through lies sooner or later.
Adam sighed and nodded.
The registration process went smoothly afterward.
Morca personally accompanied him to the registry office. Aside from one suspicious official who clearly doubted their noble status based on their clothing, no real obstacles appeared.
Soon enough, Adam received his noble identification… along with a family crest.
A small wooden plaque.
An apple carved with bat wings.
After considerable thought, Adam had chosen the apple. It was the only symbol he felt any attachment to—and since he was already a vampire, adding wings felt appropriate enough.
After seeing Morca off, Adam returned to the Corsican residence feeling strangely drained.
Take the position?
With what money?
Even a rough calculation made his head hurt. Thousands of gold coins burned every single day. Empty title or not—even a real territory wouldn't survive that rate of consumption.
Refuse it?
Then the moment the appointment arrived… he would likely be forced to leave Athens.
Even if everything went perfectly at the Athena Library—
Even if his talent proved exceptional—
Mastering vampiric secret arts within such limited time was nearly impossible.
Maybe…
Maybe he should just bring Demon Chelman and steal every book outright.
But what about the Moonstone fragment?
Would that really be so easy to take?
Adam exhaled slowly.
Nothing was settled.
Yet the countdown had already begun.
He pushed open the half-closed door.
Bibu sat behind the desk reviewing documents. With pirates gone and trade routes restored, weekly correspondence with Corsica had resumed.
Seeing Adam, Bibu brightened immediately.
"Mr. Adam! A letter arrived from Corsica. They're sending tribute funds—and operational expenses for the residence."
"Congratulations," Adam said, forcing a smile.
"Oh, right." Bibu suddenly remembered something. "A new neighbor moved in next door. Says he's your friend."
"My… friend?"
Adam blinked.
He had friends?
Friends who could walk freely under daylight?
"Came this morning looking for you," Bibu added, pointing left. "Rented the entire building. Extremely wealthy, it seems."
"I'll take a look."
The sunscreen effect hadn't faded yet. Perfect timing.
The neighboring building was slightly shorter but far newer—three times larger in area.
Workers bustled everywhere, hauling furniture inside. The place was loud and chaotic, clearly mid-move.
Then Adam heard a familiar voice shouting—
"Hurry up! Want me sleeping badly tonight or what?!"
Adam froze.
Inside stood a fat man in ornate robes, wearing an outrageously tasteless necklace, barking orders like a tyrant.
"…The Lizard Lord?"
Adam's mind went blank.
How had this man followed him here?
Did he truly intend to cling to him forever?
Or had becoming a vampire genuinely been his lifelong dream?
And more importantly—
How did he even find him?
"Hey! You! Don't block the doorway!" the fat man yelled while stomping over. "Move before I—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes landed on Adam's physique.
The man inhaled sharply and immediately stepped back.
"My mistake, sir… wrong person… please continue…"
He turned to flee.
Adam grabbed his collar and dragged him close.
"I'm Adam."
The fat man froze.
Slowly, trembling, he turned back and stared.
Seconds passed.
Then tears flooded his eyes.
"Y-Your Highness…!"
He collapsed instantly, hugging Adam's leg.
"Your Highness! I searched everywhere! From North Africa all the way here! How could you abandon your loyal servant?!"
Tears. Snot. Absolute disaster.
Adam's trousers were soaked within seconds.
The surrounding workers watched in horrified silence.
Still shameless as ever.
Adam kicked him away before further contamination occurred.
"Who told you I was here?"
The fat man scrambled up.
"Lord Smoke!"
"What?!"
Adam dragged him aside immediately.
"He told you? Where is he now?"
The letter had only been sent days ago. If Smoke departed immediately, fast travel was plausible for a vampire.
But this fat man?
Even by ship, the journey should have taken weeks.
"They're over there."
Adam followed the direction being pointed.
Against the wall stood four massive black crates.
Human-sized.
More like coffins.
Four…
Smoke. Classic. Vine. And Smoke's eldest son.
Of course.
Ignoring the Lizard Lord's dramatic self-praise and complaints, Adam pieced together the story.
After being mysteriously released by the Eden faction, Smoke hadn't dared return home. Instead, he fled toward Krimasha with Classic and Vine.
Just before leaving, he remembered Adam's order—to arrange the humans left behind in the Lizard Castle.
Transporting everyone was impossible.
Transporting one person… was not.
So Smoke simply transformed into a bat—
—and kidnapped the utterly confused Lizard Lord.
Surprisingly, the man cooperated afterward. In unfamiliar Krimasha, the group ended up relying on one another.
Later, they received Withered Wood's letter informing them Adam was already in Athens.
So they departed immediately.
Four vampires carrying one screaming fat man across continents.
They had arrived before dawn.
Adam pointed at the mountain of brand-new furniture.
"Where did the money come from?"
If they traveled at maximum speed, they couldn't possibly have carried wealth.
Gold was heavy.
Yet judging by this display, several thousand coins had clearly been spent.
"We borrowed from Mr. Withered Wood," the fat man said proudly.
Adam stared at him.
Borrowed money… and this was the result?
Vampires truly had no concept of savings.
"Our own funds are still being transported," the man added.
"…And where did those come from?"
The answer left Adam speechless.
The fat man puffed out his chest.
"Mr. Withered Wood mentioned Your Highness was troubled by financial matters."
He grinned.
"So before leaving… we carried out a major operation."
"A major operation?"
"We robbed several government treasuries."
He beamed.
"Roughly one hundred thousand gold coins."
Adam closed his eyes.
Of course.
Few governments would ever imagine—
that vampires, who traditionally hunted blood rather than wealth…
would organize themselves to rob gold vaults.
What a magnificent decline.