Listening to Elena's words, Gregor let out a long sigh of relief and leaned back into his chair.

  “Whew~ Let’s just hope her convoy runs into some kind of dey on the way and gets held up for two days. If she arrives in Igwynt and doesn’t see me around, she’s gonna hate me for sure…”

  Gregor rubbed his temples in frustration. Elena tilted her head slightly and responded thoughtfully.

  “Captain, it sounds like you have a pretty close retionship with your sister.”

  “More or less. Our parents passed away when we were really young, so she’s the only blood retive I’ve got left. Now that I’ve made a bit of a name for myself in the city, I wanted to bring her over so she could live a better life. Most importantly, I want her to be able to go to school. Staying in the vilge her whole life wouldn’t get her anywhere…”

  Gregor said as he sank deeper into his seat, a nostalgic look in his eyes. Elena chuckled and added with a hint of teasing in her voice:

  “A ‘bit of a name’? Captain, you’re the youngest squad leader in the entire history of Igwynt’s Hunter Division. Even your rank as an Apprentice Hunter was the youngest on record. The Bureau Chief himself says your future’s limitless. You call that just ‘a bit’?”

  “Ah, Elena, don’t go fttering me with that nonsense. Sure, I’m doing well in the bureau, but this isn’t exactly a job I can publicly boast about. To the outside world, I’m just another average Joe…”

  Gregor crossed his legs casually, reclining in his chair. As he spoke, he reached into the drawer of the sheriff’s desk, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a box of matches nearby. Within moments, wisps of smoke curled into the air.

  “Hey, hey, smoking in front of a dy is seriously rude, you know…” Elena said with mild annoyance as she watched him.

  Gregor shot her a side gnce and replied, “Yeah, yeah... I’m just having a smoke to take the edge off. Besides, didn’t you say I should treat you like one of the guys while we’re on duty?”

  “Pfft…”

  Gregor exhaled a mouthful of smoke, eyes narrowing slightly.

  “I just hope those officers were really just hallucinating or something. Best case, we can head back tomorrow and forget this mess ever happened…”

  Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway, and a Hunter Squad member in all bck burst into the sheriff’s office.

  “Captain! We found this on the corpse!”

  He rushed forward and handed over an envelope. Gregor’s brow furrowed as he quickly snubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and took the envelope. Elena stepped up behind him, peering over his shoulder as he opened it.

  Gregor’s eyes darkened as he read, his brow knitting tighter with each line. Behind him, Elena’s gaze sharpened, her eyes peering through her mask and locking onto the st two lines of the letter.

  “Blood Chalice…” Gregor muttered under his breath.

  Elena gave a small, knowing smile.

  “Looks like we’re not going home tomorrow after all.”

  . . . . . . .

  The night faded, and morning arrived once more.

  Time passed, day turned into night, and the town of Vulcan, after a bustling day, fell back into silence under the cover of darkness.

  In the western outskirts of Vulcan, there stood a sparse woodnd. Once a rge forest, it had been heavily reduced over the years due to the town’s expanding need for lumber. Now, it was little more than a patch of overgrown shrubs and scattered trees.

  Though not deep or dense, the pce carried a grim reputation—rumors whispered that the local mafia used it as a dumping ground for corpses. Most townsfolk didn’t dare venture near.

  And deep within this eerie grove, in a clearing devoid of trees, three or four figures stood silently, as if waiting for something—or someone.

  Their appearances varied: one looked like a construction worker, another like a gentleman in a suit... fewer than five in total. On the surface, they seemed like strangers, unreted by any means, yet they formed a loose circle, each facing a different direction, clearly keeping watch.

  At the center of this group stood a middle-aged man in a trench coat and low-brimmed hat. Gsses perched on his nose, and a pair of sharp mustaches framed his lips. In one hand, he held a briefcase; with the other, he raised his wrist and stared intently at his watch.

  The hands of the clock met—both aligning perfectly at twelve.

  As the watch’s hands aligned perfectly at twelve, the man in the trench coat lifted his head and scanned the area, his eyes sweeping through the clearing like a hawk. Yet, nothing stirred in the surrounding woods. No movement. No sign of life.

  His brows furrowed.

  “Sir, there's still no sign of those bastards. Could we have been pyed?”

  A burly man, dressed like a borer, stepped up beside him and whispered with a trace of anger in his voice. The bespectacled man responded calmly, his voice cold and measured.

  “He’s just a local thug. I doubt he has the guts to pull something like that... Maybe something went wrong on his end. We’re pulling out. No point waiting any longer.”

  “Yes, sir—”

  But before they could make a move, multiple eyes hidden within the dense brush were already locked onto their every gesture.

  “They’re getting ready to leave. No need to wait for the second wave. Engage—now.”

  From the undergrowth, a low voice gave the order. Fingers tightened on triggers, and then—

  Bang!

  A muzzle fsh burst from the bushes, and a bullet tore through the air, aiming straight for the bespectacled man’s skull. At the st possible moment, as if guided by sheer instinct, the man jerked his head to the side. The bullet didn’t strike his temple—but it did shear off a piece of his skull. His hat flew high into the air.

  “It’s a trap!!”

  Blood trickled down his forehead as his voice erupted, raw and hoarse, but it was too te. Before his men could even react, shadowy figures rose from the surrounding thickets, all cd in bck, faces masked. Their rifles were already aimed.

  The night exploded in gunfire.

  Bullets ripped through the clearing. One after another, the ambushed men fell, their bodies hitting the dirt with heavy thuds. In mere seconds, only the man in gsses remained standing—barely.

  Aside from the graze on his head, a bullet had pierced clean through his abdomen. But the wound didn’t slow him. If anything, it only seemed to enrage him.

  “Damn Serenity Bureau rats—!!”

  He spat blood, his face contorted with fury. With a roar, he hurled his briefcase aside and lunged at one of the masked Hunters. Despite his injuries, his speed was inhuman—his body surged forward like a beast unleashed.

  The Hunter, startled, didn’t even bother to reload. Instead, he dropped his rifle and drew a revolver from his waist, firing off two rounds in quick succession.

  Bang! Bang!

  Two more bullets hit the charging man, but he still didn’t go down. In the blink of an eye, he was upon the Hunter.

  “Feed my hunger!”

  His jaw opened—unnaturally wide, grotesquely distended like a predator’s maw. It was a mouth made for tearing flesh, rge enough to rip out half the Hunter’s neck in a single bite.

  But just as he lunged—

  Cng!

  Steel met teeth.

  Instead of flesh, the man’s bloodied mouth cmped down on the edge of a gleaming bde.

  “Ugh, no matter how many times I see it, the Blood Chalice's ‘Craver’ are always disgusting.”

  Gregor had appeared. No one had seen when or how.

  Cd in his iron mask and regution uniform, he stood just beside the monstrosity, his bde jammed vertically into the creature’s open mouth. Blood oozed from the creature’s cerated gums where its fangs scraped against the steel.

  The man’s eyes widened in utter disbelief. He turned his head, staring at the figure beside him with horror.

  He hadn’t sensed a thing—not even a whisper of Gregor’s presence until now.

  “Sha… der…”

  Blood dribbled from his mouth, his words muffled by the bde.

  . . . . . .

  While all eyes were on the horrifying confrontation in the center of the clearing, a shadow slipped out from the bushes unnoticed.

  It was a bck dog.

  Its movements were swift, but something about it was deeply unsettling. Its body bore fatal wounds, and there was no light left in its eyes—it was clearly long dead.

  Yet it moved.

  The undead beast ignored the chaos around it. It snatched up the briefcase that the man had thrown and turned back toward the forest, vanishing into the undergrowth without a sound.

  Zaztra_Vandesh