The Fallen Prince ☆ 3
If he had spent all this time blaming fate and shoving the bill onto destiny, then now everything was his to bear. Was this what he had longed for so desperately—freedom? The more freedom he enjoyed, the more he realized that he was nothing more than an empty shell.
From the beginning, he had never known how to love himself, nor how to love life.
He had only harbored vague admiration. Without ever learning how to be loved by someone, he had lived on nothing but the instinct to survive. Serin, who had grown up enjoying everything within a warm and loving family, could never be Isaka's match. If tested in a brutal environment, measured as warriors, there would be no contest.
But the strength of those raised in love does not manifest on the battlefield. Isaka was as strong as anyone in the arena of survival, but in life itself, he was not particularly strong.
That was why he had no choice but to grant Serin's request, whatever it might be. In his hollow, empty existence, only Serin—only Serin's presence—carried any real weight for him.
Even if he hated and envied his only brother, even if his body twisted with feelings of inferiority toward him… even if that brother took the best things for himself and left Isaka with the scraps, even if sometimes he took everything and gave nothing at all, Isaka still could not refuse Serin's plea.
[I've prepared a Korean passport, bank account, and credit cards. The name is Seo-hyun—the name Father chose for you.]
"Father gave me that name?"
Isaka gave a bitter smile. He doubted whether his biological father even knew who he truly was.
[When you go to Korea, Arjuna's master will help you. Given your position and mine, it would be awkward for us to openly work together.]
Help him? Born as a lycanthrope prince, having lived fiercely like a beast, Isaka felt a surge of resistance. But when he looked at his own body, he soon understood. In his current state, he truly did look like someone who couldn't survive without help. He looked like a homeless man—no wonder.
Still, he wanted to ask.
"How exactly will they help me? While being so conscious of other people—no, other vampires' eyes? What is this 'master of Arjuna' supposed to do for me?"
[…They'll teach you how to live as Seo-hyun.]
"..."
It seemed Serin already knew why Isaka had been living in such a state.
[I've also cleared the Interpol warrant. If you need it, I can fabricate identities for your fellow lycanthropes as well.]
"Impressive. That's unexpected. But…"
A sudden spark of life lit up in Isaka's eyes.
☆ ☆ ☆
A wire-guided anti-tank missile was streaking toward an abandoned building. Fired from infantry or a vehicle, the missile flew straight with terrifying momentum and struck the building's outer wall—or rather, it detonated just before impact, engulfing the entire structure in a massive thermal blast.
Even that alone was enough to collapse the brick walls and make the whole building shudder. In an instant, a monstrous pillar of fire wrapped around the entire structure.
An anti-personnel thermobaric warhead—before such a weapon, cover meant almost nothing. Powdered or aerosolized fuel was sprayed into every crevice of the building and ignited, roasting every corner with heat and pressure.
"Spectacular."
Young men riding in a Toyota pickup truck mounted with a METIS wire-guided missile launcher let out exclamations as they watched the already half-collapsed building.
"The overpressure's so bad I can't see anything. A normal human would be dead by now, right?"
The vapor bomb's explosion would have filled the entire building with fire and shockwaves without a single gap. But they weren't satisfied with that.
"Our target isn't human. It's a monster. If it could be killed by just one anti-tank missile, do you think they'd put such a high bounty on it?"
"Hehehe. One more!"
They loaded another thermobaric round into the launcher mounted on the vehicle. Judging by how casually they handled the heavy missile—over thirty kilograms—it was obvious they were no ordinary humans.
Another missile flew out and slammed into the abandoned building. The old brick structure couldn't withstand two waves of inferno and was now completely collapsing.
"At this point, even a hotshot would've tasted bitterness, right?"
"Should we fire one more?"
"Ah!"
At that moment, the man holding binoculars screamed. He immediately grabbed the squad automatic weapon beside him, mounted on a welded vehicle mount, and chambered a round.
"He's still alive!"
"That's impossible! Are you sure?!"
"Load another missile!"
They hurried to reload—but then, suddenly, the Toyota Hilux pickup jolted upward with a thump. Something had dropped onto it from above, crushing it down; the suspension bounced violently, launching the vehicle that had been parked on a slope into the air. Everyone turned in shock to look behind them.
"So the assassins stopped coming for a while, and now they're back again. How nice. I used to be such a popular star—everyone wanted me. Then I fell out of favor, and now I find myself welcoming even this kind of unpleasant attention."
Isaka had landed behind them. Dressed in shabby clothes, holding nothing but an empty liquor bottle, his presence alone was enough to make their blood run cold. The distance from the missile-struck building to here was about three hundred meters. Lycanthropes and vampires possessed exceptional physical abilities, but it wasn't a distance one could close in a single leap.
So how had he done it?
Ordinary vampires would have recoiled in shock and warily guarded against Isaka in this situation. But these ones were different.
"Hehehe."
"Looks like he still thinks he's something."
"Dressed like a beggar, too."
Despite Isaka's sudden appearance, the assassins weren't surprised at all. Instead, they mocked him. Had anyone ever dared sneer like this at Isaka, the so-called Prince of the Lycanthropes?
"Get him!"
One of the men in the vehicle—the one with the binoculars—drew a pistol from his holster. But Isaka kicked his arm and torso in a single motion, grabbed the railing of the Hilux, spun his body like a gymnast on parallel bars, and landed lightly on the ground.
"Hah!"
With a short shout, the Toyota Hilux flipped over completely. It had been parked on a slope, but even so, he had effortlessly overturned a pickup truck weighing several tons.
However…
The men who had been riding it leapt out with swift, agile movements. Even for vampires, their reaction speed was impressive—far beyond the average.
"Hahaha! Ah—!?"
The vampire who had burst into laughter, seemingly proud of his own reflexes, froze when he saw Isaka charging straight at him. He reflexively aimed his Scorpion submachine gun at Isaka, but before he could pull the trigger, the gun was seized. Isaka skillfully grabbed the ejection port to prevent it from firing, twisted the vampire's wrist, tore the weapon away, and bent his arm backward.
Then he fired the submachine gun point-blank into the elbow joint, already twisted and under extreme pressure.
—Pup-pup-pup!
Blood sprayed everywhere as the elbow shattered, bone exposed. With a hard pull, Isaka tore the arm clean off. Gripping the severed wrist, he held it in a reverse grip like a dagger and drove it straight into the vampire's crown.
—Crunch!
The arm bone pierced the skull like a stiletto. Isaka grabbed the vampire by the nape with one hand and hoisted him up like a shield, preparing for incoming gunfire from the others.
—Dudududu!
The men with assault rifles emptied their magazines, but Isaka used the vampire as a human shield, leapt backward, and ducked behind the overturned Hilux.
"Damn it! He's tougher than expected!"
"He is the highest-ranking lycanthrope!"
"Still, we're better armed! Keep firing! Anyone got grenades?"
They swapped magazines and began preparing grenades.
☆ ☆ ☆
Hidden behind the Toyota Hilux, Isaka felt puzzled by how skilled and coordinated his enemies were.
"They're awfully brave. And the sun hasn't fully set yet…"
A vampire's natural enemy was sunlight. Even in winter, with its thin, weak rays, this level of light should have caused all but the highest-ranking vampires to feel as if their entire bodies were being burned alive.
So were these high-ranking vampires? But as far as Isaka knew, no such individuals existed.
Since vampires began to prosper under the protection of Tetra Anax, they had accumulated immense wealth. Consider compound growth at just five percent annually over two hundred years—that alone would increase principal more than seventeen thousandfold.
In reality, their growth rate had been even higher.
With his prophetic foresight, Tetra Anax had predicted the outcomes of the Napoleonic Wars, great famines, and countless disasters. The vampires bet on victory every time and reaped enormous profits. But not all vampires enjoyed such wealth and glory. Only those loyal to Tetra Anax—the pro–Tetra Anax faction—were allowed to share in it.
Tetra Anax had predicted that the vampire population could not structurally increase. They had to drink human blood and could not reveal their existence; thus, they were bound to human population size and geography. They couldn't cluster too densely, but they also couldn't survive in areas with too few humans. As a result, he lavished wealth and privilege on obedient vampires while ruthlessly suppressing the rest.
Thus, the gap between vampires under Tetra Anax's protection and those without it was as vast as that between nobles and slaves.
An aristocratic organizational culture and rigid class consciousness took root among the vampires.
Which meant that it was unthinkable for a high-ranking vampire—one capable of enduring sunlight—to personally risk their body to assassinate a lycanthrope. But if these weren't high-ranking vampires, how were they withstanding the sun?
"Hehehe. Surprised?"
The vampire whose wrist Isaka had driven into his own crown turned his head. Isaka had clearly pierced his skull and churned his brain, yet the vampire seemed unconcerned as he looked back at him. Maintaining cognitive function despite severe bodily damage was another hallmark of high-ranking vampires.
"A new age is coming! When that day arrives, beings like you will surely—"
"Sorry, but I'm not interested in weird religions."
Isaka muttered indifferently and grabbed the arm he had embedded in the vampire's head, twisting it. The vampire, his brain impaled, lost consciousness once more from the shock.
"So this is why Serin asked me for help. Because of freaks like these. Just what the hell is going on right now?"
Grumbling, Isaka searched the pickup truck for anything useful. That was when he heard them shouting again.
"Anyone got grenades?"