The upper east side of Manhattan always felt like a different world to Julian. Even now, with the pre-apocalyptic scent of impending doom in the air, the wealthy were clinking glasses and laughing as if the universe was their playground.
He arrived at Marcus's penthouse apartment at 8:00 PM. The doorman, a sturdy Jamaican man, gave him a judging look before letting him in. "You're late, Mr. Vance," he grunted.
"The best part of the party always starts late," Julian replied, his voice a calm chill.
He stepped out of the elevator and into a sprawling, multi-level living room. A DJ was spinning house music, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and top-shelf liquor. There were at least fifty people, all of them polished and beautiful.
In his past life, Julian would have felt out of place, clutching his cheap beer and trying to make conversation. Now, he felt like a predator walking into a sheep pen. He scanned the room, looking for his target.
It didn't take long. Marcus was standing near a marble bar, his arm draped possessively around Sarah. He was a mountain of a man, even at twenty-two, his tailored Italian suit straining against his massive frame.
"Julian! There's my favorite little scrapper!" Marcus roared, raising his tumbler of whiskey. "Come in, have a drink! We were just talking about you."
Julian walked toward them, his steps measured and precise. He didn't look at Sarah. He only had eyes for Marcus.
"Talking about me? I'm honored," Julian said, his smile tight.
"Yeah, Sarah was just telling us how you've been acting weird lately. Like you're planning something big."
"Planning something? Just trying to survive, Marcus. Like always."
"Survival, huh? That's what you say when you don't have ambition." Marcus chuckled, his friends joining in. "Here, take this." He thrust a beer bottle into Julian's hand. "It's a microbrew. Better than the watered-down garbage you're used to."
Julian didn't drink. He knew Marcus had spiked the drinks in his previous life—a petty prank to embarrass him. He simply held the bottle, letting it grow warm.
"Actually, Marcus," Julian said, his voice dropping an octave. "I heard you have a collection. I'm a fan of history."
Marcus's eyes widened, a flash of genuine interest replacing his smugness. "Oh? I have a few pieces in my study. Antiques. Mostly ornamental, of course."
"Mind if I take a look?"
"Go ahead. It's the door at the end of the hall. Don't touch anything expensive, though." Marcus turned back to his conversation, dismissing Julian with a wave of his hand.
Julian walked away, ignoring the giggles from the people around Marcus. He didn't care about their mockery. He was about to rob them blind.
He slipped into the study and closed the heavy oak door behind him. The room was quiet, filled with the scent of old paper and leather. Against one wall, a glass display case held five weapons. Four of them were generic renaissance-era rapiers—worthless in the new world.
But the fifth one...
It was a Japanese katana, its sheath a simple black lacquer. It looked ordinary, even cheap, compared to the gold-hilted swords next to it. But Julian knew better. In his past life, a Rank-A Hunter had used this blade to slay a Dragon King. It was called the 'Demon Slayer's Whisper'.
He tried to open the display case. Locked.
He looked around. There was a security camera in the corner of the room. He didn't have time to hack it.
He smiled. The system could handle this.
[HOST INTENDS TO BYPASS SECURITY SYSTEM?]
[DEPLOYING TEMPORAL DISTORTION FIELD (RANK-F).]
Julian felt a slight pressure in his head. A wave of blue light emanated from him, enveloping the room. In his vision, the clock on the wall stopped ticking. The sound of the party outside vanished. For the next ten seconds, time was frozen in this study.
He grabbed a heavy iron paperweight from Marcus's desk and smashed the glass case. The sound was deafening, but it didn't echo. It didn't wake anyone.
He snatched the katana, its hilt feeling perfectly balanced in his hand.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: SUCCESSFUL THEFT.]
[OBTAINED: DEMON SLAYER'S WHISPER (DORMANT RANK-C ARTIFACT).]
The blue light faded. The clock resumed its ticking.
Julian hid the katana under his jacket and walked out of the study, locking the door behind him. When he stepped back into the living room, Marcus was still holding his whiskey tumbler, Sarah still clinging to his arm.
He walked past them, not saying a word.
"Leaving already, Julian?" Marcus called out, a hint of confusion in his voice. "You didn't even drink your beer."
Julian paused at the elevator. He turned and looked Marcus in the eye.
"The best part of the party," Julian said, his voice a deadly quiet, "just ended."
As the elevator doors closed, he could already feel the mana from the 'Demon Slayer's Whisper' seeping into his body. The hunt had begun, and he had his first fang.