?A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. Claire, who had been leaning against the back wall, let her tablet slip a few inches as she stared at the display. Vaughn, the man who had treated me like a nuisance since the moment I woke up, went completely still.

  ?“B+?” Vaughn whispered. The word sounded like a curse.

  ?He stepped closer, his shadow looming over me, his eyes fixed on the glowing red letters floating in the air. For the first time, he looked... unsettled.

  ?“You have to be kidding me,” he hissed, more to himself than to me. “It took me years of grinding just to reach B-. How does a delivery boy with a broken bike start with a B+?”

  ?I stared at the screen. The [Hunger Rate: 40%] was beginning to manifest as a dry, itchy burn in the back of my throat, but I ignored it. I didn't care about the grade or the manipulation stats yet. I just looked at Vaughn—the powerhouse who had outrun me and punched me into the dirt—and realized his jaw was clenched tight enough to snap steel.

  ?“You look nervous, Vaughn,” I said, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Are you scared of a newbie?”

  ?“Don't get cocky, kid. Do you even know what that means?” Vaughn snapped, though his voice lacked its usual iron-clad certainty.

  ?“No,” I replied, leaning back with a newfound confidence. “Do I need to?”

  ?“Let me explain,” Claire interrupted, stepping away from her terminal. Her eyes were fixed on my display as if she were trying to solve a complex equation. “Blood Quality represents your innate potential—your biological ceiling. Most Newborns start with a D or E. Some even scrape an E-.”

  ?“Why the gap?” I asked. “Is it genetics? Biology?”

  ?“It depends on three variables,” Claire explained, ticking them off on her fingers. “Your Sire, the condition of your body when you died, and the method of your turning. I’ve never seen a Newborn start above a C.”

  ?She paused, looking up from the screen to meet my eyes. Her expression wasn't just clinical anymore; it was unnerved.

  ?“Your Sire... whoever they were, they didn't just turn you. They sculpted you.”

  The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Being 'sculpted' by some shadow master was a terrifying thought, but I forced myself to shove the mystery aside. I didn't have the luxury to worry about the artist right now. I needed to understand the art.

  ?One specific word she used stood out like a beacon.

  ?“Start?” I caught the word immediately. “Does that mean I can increase it?”

  ?“Yes,” she said bluntly. “By consuming higher quality blood.”

  ?The simplicity of it was chilling. It wasn't about studying for exams or working double shifts anymore. It was about consumption.

  ?“That's the only way to evolve. But there is a catch,” Claire continued, pointing to the bottom line. “The Hunger.”

  ?“It’s a double-edged sword. Drink too much, and you suffer from ‘Blood Toxicity’—your veins will burn as your body violently rejects the excess power. Believe me, you don't want to experience that.”

  ?She paused, her expression darkening.

  ?“But the real danger is starvation. Look at your [Hunger Rate]. If that number hits 80%, you enter the ‘Critical Zone’. Your instincts will start to overwrite your logic.”

  ?She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a icy whisper.

  ?“And if you become a Feral. There is no cure for that, Eun-Woo. If that happens, We won't hesitate to put you down.”

  ?“I see...” I paused, swallowing the dryness in my throat. I couldn't let them see my fear. “So I just have to manage the numbers. Keep it balanced. Easy enough.”

  ?“And what about the other stats?” I asked quickly, steering the topic away from the prospect of insanity.

  ?“Quantity is your tank—how much blood you can store before your system overflows. Manipulation is your mastery over your blood—how well you can actually use the power in your veins.” Claire paused, giving me a pitying look. “Since your Manipulation is a D, you’re basically a Ferrari being driven by someone who doesn't have a license.”

  ?“So it's like a game,” I muttered. All those hours I spent in bio labs were being replaced by a new set of variables. “I just need to grind to level up.”

  ?“It's not a game, Eun-Woo,” Claire warned sharply. “You have to find your Equilibrium. Drink too much, and the Toxicity burns you from the inside out. Drink too little, and the Beast takes the wheel. It’s a delicate balance of life and death.”

  ?Blood Quality. Manipulation. Hunger.

  ?These were the new calculations that replaced rent, tuition, and grocery bills.

  ?As long as I balanced the equation, I could grow. I could evolve.

  ?I could become the nightmare that protects the innocent.

  ?“Enough school for today,” Vaughn interrupted, his voice returning to a professional rasp, though he stood a few inches further away than before. “I'm taking you back.”

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  ?Back?

  ?“Back where?” I asked. “I don't have a home. My landlord probably threw my stuff out three days ago.”

  ?"That penthouse," Vaughn said, gesturing vaguely toward the ceiling. "It was rented for the whole week. You still have one more day left. Don't you want it?"

  ?I blinked. The luxury, the sandalwood scent, the Italian marble... It was a world I was never meant to belong to. But now, it was mine to enjoy.

  ?“Are you serious?” I asked, standing up.

  ?Vaughn put his sunglasses back on, hiding the unease in his eyes.

  ?“Enjoy the high life while you can, kid. Training starts tomorrow at dusk. And trust me... I won't be holding back just because you have a fancy grade.”

  ***

  Lying on the luxurious bed, I stared up at the high ceiling of the penthouse. The scent of sandalwood, which had felt like a sanctuary just a few days ago, now hung in the air like a silent witness to my transformation. My mind was a whirlwind of the day's events: the accident, the blinding white light, the "pruning" on that sterile floor, and the strange, red interface hovering over my wrist.

  ?I had been chopped down like a dead tree and regrown in a matter of days. Now, I was resting on a mattress that cost more than my entire year's tuition at NYU.

  ?Yet, I couldn't relax. Questions gnawed at me. The identity of my Sire, the mechanics of the System, the secret society operating in the shadows... and this new version of myself. I was flying blind.

  ?Pushing the silk sheets aside, I walked to the bathroom and gripped the cold edge of the sink. I stared at my reflection.

  ?If I'm truly a vampire…

  ?Slowly, I curled my upper lip back.

  ?There they were. Not the cheap plastic props from Halloween stores, but seamless, predatory extensions of my own bone. Two elongated canines, sharp enough to puncture skin with a graze.

  ?“How am I supposed to walk around like this?” I whispered, leaning closer to the glass.

  ?Almost instinctively, responding to my desire to hide, a strange sensation washed over my gums. With a soft, wet click, the elongated fangs slid upward, retracting into the gum line until they looked perfectly human. I blinked, then tensed my jaw again. They snapped back down instantly.

  ?Retractable. Just like in the movies. At least blending in wouldn't be a nightmare.

  ?As I washed my face, water dripping from my newly regrown arms, my mind drifted back to Vaughn’s parting words at the hotel entrance.

  ?“You haven't commented much,” Vaughn had said, his silhouette dark against the neon chaos of the city. “But what do you think about your new limbs?”

  ?“My new limbs?” I had asked, flexing my fingers. They felt strong, efficient, and strangely cold. “They don't feel any different, to be honest.”

  ?“Is that so?” Vaughn’s voice had carried a hint of something—amusement? Or perhaps a warning.

  ?“Yes. Is there a problem?”

  ?“No,” he replied, turning to walk away. “Take your time here. Though, don't bother trying to sleep.”

  ?“What do you mean by that?”

  ?“You didn't know? You don't need to sleep anymore. Your body is no longer a machine that breaks down and needs repair. It is a vessel that remains eternally active.”

  ?I had stood there, watching him disappear into his car, his words ringing in my ears like a curse. And just like he said, as I lay here in the dark, sleep was nowhere to be found.

  ?As a delivery driver and server, I would have sold my soul for an extra hour of shut-eye. I used to sleep face-down on my biology textbooks, my brain having no more room for the 'future' because 'today' was so exhausting. Now, I had all the time in the world. I had the "future." But I had no escape from the present.

  ?I sighed and walked toward the massive floor-to-ceiling window. New York was alive with a million heartbeats, a million pulses I could almost feel vibrating through the glass. For a "ghost" who was used to disappearing in the background, the world was suddenly, terrifyingly loud.

  ?If I wasn't going to sleep, I had to do something. I looked at the digital readout on my wrist.

  ?[Hunger Rate: 38%]

  ?I frowned. I had downed a pouch of that synthetic blood in the fridge earlier.

  ?“It was at 51% before I drank,” I muttered, doing the mental math. “So drinking artificial blood only drops hunger by 13%? Talk about efficiency.”

  ***

  Outside the hotel, the New York night was a mosaic of neon reflection on wet pavement. Vaughn leaned against the cold metal railing of the adjacent rooftop, his eyes fixed on the illuminated window of the penthouse. Beside him, Claire flicked the ash from her cigarette, the orange ember momentarily lighting up her pale, exhausted face.

  ?“So,” Vaughn rumbled, his voice fighting the sound of distant traffic. “What’s the verdict?”

  ?“He’s a freak,” Claire muttered, exhaling a long plume of smoke that drifted into the rain. “Even for us.”

  ?Vaughn adjusted his sunglasses, shielding his eyes despite the darkness. “I wasn’t asking for a personality review—wait, why a freak?”

  ?He didn't recall anything particularly jarring about Eun-Woo, other than the absurdity of his B+ rating. To a blunt instrument like Vaughn, the kid had seemed like a typical, overwhelmed victim trying to keep his head above water.

  ?“He was practically… meditating while he was being chopped,” Claire said, a shiver running through her shoulders that had nothing to do with the cold. “He didn't scream for mercy. He didn't beg us to stop. He just... stared at the wound. Watching it knit together like he was studying a biology experiment. It was unnatural.”

  ?“For real?” Vaughn’s voice lost some of its edge.

  ?“For real. Most humans shatter psychologically when the pruning starts. He was pretty much okay with it. ”

  ?Vaughn fell silent. He hadn't realized Eun-Woo had processed the trauma through such a detached lens. Kang Eun-Woo... What an interesting guy.

  ?“Anyways,” Vaughn grunted, shifting his weight. “His Sire. Any leads?”

  ?“There is no doubt,” Claire replied, her tone sharpening into professionalism.

  ?“Yeah. That’s what I figured.”

  ?“Only they can transform someone so perfectly,” Claire whispered, looking up at the heavy clouds as if expecting the ancient architects of their race to descend. “No mess, no lingering human decay, no cellular rejection. Just a clean, perfect evolution. It’s terrifying.”

  ?“Why are you covering him up?” she asked, turning her gaze to Vaughn. “Why did you let him go so easily? You didn't even explain the Basic Laws or the feeding protocols. Aren't you worried he'll break the Masquerade?”

  ?“I felt sorry for the guy,” Vaughn admitted, looking back at the penthouse where a silhouette moved against the window. “His body is a predator now, but his mind... it hasn't caught up. It’s still human. It needs time to grieve the life that ended three days ago.”

  ?“Isn't it the same for all of us?” Claire asked bitterly.

  ?“Well... that’s exactly why I gave him space.”

  ?“Fine. Just make sure you pick him up before dawn. Don't let him burn himself to a crisp when the sun comes up. I really don't want to be the one sweeping 'Hero-flavored' ash off the sidewalk.”

  ?Vaughn stayed silent for a moment, watching a drop of rain trace a line down his leather jacket.

  ?“He’s already immune,” he said flatly.

  ?Claire froze. The cigarette slipped from her fingers, tumbling down into the dark alley below, forgotten.

  ?“Immune?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “As a newborn?”

  ?“We walked out at noon, Claire. The sun was at its peak. And he just complained about the heat. I never heard about a newborn that has already conquered the sun."

  ?She didn't say another word. She couldn't. She simply turned and disappeared into the shadows of the stairwell, leaving Vau ghn alone with the flickering lights of the city and the impossible mystery of the boy.