****
“Is that so?”
Hearing the vampire’s words, the priest smiled. He moved the muzzle of the gun to the vampire’s head. The vampire was startled and tried to move, but having lost one arm and one leg, the most he could do was flail about.
<><><>
“Why! Why! I told you everything I knew.”
“You really are a useless bastard. What you know is of no help to me at all.”
He said that and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger.
Bang!
With the gunshot, the head was shattered to pieces. Although vampires had regenerative abilities, they could not survive taking a .50 caliber magnum round, generously coated in pure silver, to the head.
“Damn it! This has turned into the case of the bird working for the fisherman.”
The silver-haired priest, who seemed to be quite knowledgeable in old adages, spoke thus and shoved the Desert Eagle into his waistband with irritation. At that, the middle-aged man, intimidated by his demeanor, shrugged his shoulders.
“In any case, the police will come since you used a gun, so shouldn't we get out of here?”
“It doesn’t matter to me. If there’s a problem, it’s your Colt.”
He said that and picked up the case. But it was just then.
Crash!
The sound of a window shattering came from across the way.
“It seems we’ll have to engage in a chase, unavoidably. You can at least handle the cleanup, right?”
The priest glared at the middle-aged man as if to blame him and slipped out the back. As expected, the kitchen window of the club was broken, and a person could be seen running away through it. As soon as the priest pulled out his pistol, he quickly pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The street could not be called quiet, but the gunshot was by far the loudest of all the noises. The vampire, who had been running hard, staggered with the gunshot. The bullet, which tore through its back, lungs, and liver, created a grievous wound that would have killed a normal person ten times over.
And the pure silver hollow-tip bullet (Silver tip hollow: usually, silver tip hollow bullets are aluminum) that this priest used was sufficiently threatening even to a vampire. But the vampire clenched its teeth and moved its body.
Even with their lungs completely gouged out and their liver, pancreas, and stomach gone altogether, the vampires were still moving.
<><><>
“Damn it! This is getting complicated.”
The priest put away his gun and clicked his tongue.
Late at night, a few biker gangs were joyfully speeding along the road. Most of the bikers had cheap lamps crammed onto their cowls and fist-sized lamps, commonly called ‘shit lights,’ attached to the back, and the sound of them opening their throttles and charging forward together was truly like that of a mighty army.
Of course, by drilling holes in the muffler, removing the cap, or replacing the muffler itself, the sound was thunderous, but in reality, all the engines were at the 125cc level, and not a single one was properly tuned up.
But the leader was riding a rather heavy Vulcan, and his age appeared to be no more than in his early 20s at most.
“Yahoo!”
Just then, one of the bikers riding at the front let go of the handlebars and waved his arms. At that, all the others followed his action. Frivolous horns blared, disturbing the surroundings to a sickening degree.
“Hahahahaha! This is killer! Hey, Se-gun! Try a wheelie!”
The leader called the person following beside him Se-gun. Because of the sound of the wind, it was almost inaudible, so he had to shout at the top of his lungs. But Se-gun somehow understood his words and answered.
“No way! This is my hyung's, so I'm dead if it gets even a scratch!”
He spoke thus and blinked his headlights. He was riding a domestic RX-125, which was so clean it looked as if it had just been bought, attesting to the effort its owner had put into it.
Visually, there was nothing that could be called an illegal modification, but it was fully tuned up with a focus on actual function, from the suspension to the tires, cylinder, filter, and plugs.
‘Good grief. What am I doing?’
Se-gun thought to himself and gripped the accelerator. And in one motion, he pulled the accelerator and lifted the front wheel. Wheelies were common tricks, but doing one at over 100km/h, and on a road wet from the rain that had been falling until just a moment ago, was dangerous.
But as soon as Se-gun did a wheelie, everyone else started doing wheelies in imitation. Those who didn't do a wheelie out of fear of the rainwater and the speed would soon be ostracized within the group.
It wasn't as if they were gathering to die together, yet they had to perform such a perilous stunt for such a trivial reason. That was why groups were frightening. But it was just then.
Police officers who had been hiding and waiting at the corner appeared. Perhaps because it was a period of crackdown on biker gangs, the police, fully armed with completely tuned-up modified vehicles or Harley Davidson FX/STs, were different from the start in their equipment.
“Everyone stop! Do you want to die!”
A police officer holding a megaphone in a police car shouted thus, his voice thick with annoyance. It was a tone that made it hard to tell whether he was worried the kids would die while riding, or if he was going to kill them himself.
“It’s the cops!”
“Ah, fuck! We’re screwed!”
<><><>
Desperate cries erupted from among the bikers. The leader looked back with a serious expression. Of course, it seemed no one was thinking of stopping. Se-gun clicked his tongue, looking at them.
For Se-gun, who was still a high school student, unlicensed, and out on his hyung's motorcycle, getting caught would be no small matter, so it was better to attempt an escape, but wasn't one of the main causes of biker gang deaths the act of fleeing from the police?
“Ah, whatever! It’s better than getting caught!”
Se-gun shouted that and turned to the side of the road. It was a loop-shaped road that went under the interchange, so pulling off to the side of the road meant jumping down below, and this was not something that could be done with ordinary skill.
It was a path that went from on-road to off-road and back to on-road, and since it was basically a jump, it wasn't something that could be done without considerable control.
However, Se-gun, like a stuntman, jumped off to the side of the road, onto an unpaved slope thick with weeds, then quickly went down the slope and brazenly got onto the road below.
Kwakwakwak Thud!
The RX-125, which had slid down, practically carving up the slope, landed on the asphalt ground and bucked. A terrible kickback was transmitted through the handlebars, but Se-gun absorbed the rebound by lifting the front wheel and pulled the accelerator.
The creaking feeling from the suspension was ominous. But thinking that getting away from this spot was the best option for now, Se-gun rode forward without looking back.
Above, the police and the bikers were in a frenzy trying to catch each other, but Se-gun, having jumped over the interchange, was out of the police's capture net.
“But what is that! Whoa!”
Se-gun screamed, seeing a dump truck charging toward him like a madman.
Sheeeeeeng!
The truck narrowly brushed past, letting out its characteristic scream. Moreover, judging from the truck driver's shouts, faintly heard as it passed—‘Hey, you crazy bastard! Do you wanna die!’ and so on—it seemed this was a one-way road.
It was good that he came down, but to think he was going against traffic, in the opposite direction of travel! Moreover, the trucks at night were a far more terrifying presence than the biker gangs.
“Uff!”
Se-gun once again crossed the road sideways, lifted the front wheel toward the sidewalk to get on it, and then got onto the high-curbed sidewalk with a pop-up, lifting the rear wheel.
The sound of his riding continued long into the night city.
<><><>
A high school student in a school uniform was dragging a motorcycle into a residential area where sodium lamps flickered, illuminating the street. It was Se-gun, who had eluded the police and fled this far. He passed through an alley lined with single-family houses and opened the garage door attached to the wall.
Even if it was called a garage, it was more like a warehouse, but it was sufficient to place one motorcycle. He put the motorcycle down and immediately straightened his clothes and appearance.
Although his academic performance was not good, he was known at home as a student who at least studied hard. He couldn't let the image he had built up until now crumble just because his body was a little tired.
“I’m home.”
Se-gun said that and opened the door. But it was quiet. He looked around. Even the dog they kept in the yard was not in sight. He couldn't understand why the dog, which in the old days would have barked noisily just from him approaching the alley, was so quiet.
“What is it? Did everyone go on a trip or something? It doesn't seem like it.”
Se-gun muttered thus and opened the main door. It was late, but. his mother had never once fallen asleep before her son returned.
“I’m home!”
Se-gun said that again and entered the entryway. The entryway, with no lights on, and moreover, he felt a strange atmosphere from somewhere. It was a stench like rotting mackerel.
“What is it? This smell?”
Se-gun muttered that and reached for the switch next to the entryway. He felt a strange stickiness and looked at his hand; sticky blood was smeared on his fingertips.
This blood, which had not dried despite being quite cool, was clearly of a different nature than human blood, but Se-gun could not have known that.
“Wha-what is this! Hyung! Mom! Dad! Is no one here?”
Se-gun shouted that and looked inside. Just then, the fluorescent light flickered on. The house was quiet as if nothing had happened, but he could see blood dropped on the floor. No matter how brave a person was, they would be dumbfounded to come home and find blood on the floor.
Se-gun immediately took out his cell phone and pressed 112. He would be afraid of the consequences if he made a call and it turned out to be nothing, but with blood splattered on the walls and floor, how could it be nothing?
Se-gun opened his phone and immediately reported it to the police, then opened the shoe cabinet and took out an old wooden sword from among the things stored inside. And, still wearing his shoes, he stepped into the house. The bloodstains led toward the kitchen.
“……”
Se-gun held his breath and walked toward the kitchen. With every step he took, his heart pounded. The smell of blood, which grew stronger as he approached the kitchen, was extremely ominous.
But it was just then.
Crash!
A window shattered and a dog jumped in. Because it wasn't movie-prop sugar glass, the dog that broke through the window was also quickly covered in blood, but now there was no need to worry about it bleeding a little. This was because the dog's torso was open, with its intestines spilling out.
Se-gun reflexively turned his body and swung the wooden sword, but it was not enough to stop the attack of the dog that had jumped in.
With a feeling like striking a leather sack, the wooden sword slipped from his grasp. The wooden sword, which was generously varnished and finished, had been unable to withstand the force of the blow.
“Ah!”
Before Se-gun could even scream, the dog bit his shoulder. The very gentle Golden Retriever that Se-gun called Jeanne d'Arc, and the family called Maeng-sun, had jumped from the ground over 2m high to the first-floor window.
Pain, more than the thought that this was impossible, dug into his mind. Se-gun couldn't even scream and just gasped as he fell backward. He had suffered a serious injury, his shoulder bone fractured in a single blow.
“Kraaaak!”
Se-gun unconsciously lifted his foot and kicked the abdomen of the dog that was tearing at him. The intestines that were sticking out got caught on his foot with a squish and were pulled out from the abdomen.
The feeling of the intestines spilling out as the tangled skein unraveled with sticky blood clumping together was chilling, even if it was indirect. But with his shoulder bone shattered, he couldn't afford to be startled by such a sensation.
Se-gun got up and flipped the large dog over. Once some of its intestines had been pulled out, no matter how monstrous a dog it was, its body wouldn't move, so it flipped over easily. Se-gun indiscriminately struck the dog.
He struck with his fists, struck with his elbows, struck with his wrists, not caring whether his wrist got sprained or not. There was no sentimentality about beating his own dog to death.
“Kwak!”
Finally, the dog opened its mouth and fell away. It had torn off a chunk of flesh from his shoulder, which was no small injury. Then had Jeanne d'Arc gone mad and attacked the family? Se-gun thought so and clenched his teeth.
If this dog was the culprit, it should have been inside the house. There would have been no need to break the window and charge in. It didn't make sense that it went outside and then charged inside now.
“Damn it!”
Se-gun immediately picked up the fallen wooden sword and struck Jeanne d'Arc, who was still twitching. The mad dog endured his attacks for a long time before finally collapsing as its skull shattered. Even from swinging just that much, Se-gun's palms were covered in blisters. Se-gun got up and walked over to the kitchen.
“As I thought……”
As Se-gun expected, in the kitchen, Se-gun's mother had turned into a plausible corpse. Her neck was about half-eaten, and the blood inside was dried up without a single drop, making her body look endlessly light. Perhaps because the bodily fluids inside the corpse had been sucked out, her skin was already sinking in some parts.
Se-gun took out the longest kitchen knife from the kitchen and held it in his right hand. His left arm was useless anyway because his shoulder was shattered, so he could only use one arm. Of course, he could wait for the police to come in a little while, but the fate of his family could be decided in that one moment.
His mom was dead. But the rest might still be alive. Even if the rest were all dead, there must be a culprit who caused this situation.
“That's right! Otherwise, how could… Jeanne d'Arc, who would get beaten even by a cat smaller than her, do something like that!”
Se-gun, half out of his mind, talked to himself and went up the stairs. Just then, a thought of his father's hunting rifle came to mind. It was definitely in his father's study.
Of course, his mother might have just been killed by a rabid dog, but for some unknown reason, he had a conviction that there was still something there. So he walked toward his father's study.
“Ah!”
There was no need to walk far; as soon as he opened the study door, he saw his hyung's corpse. Se-gun's hyung seemed to have had the same thought as Se-gun, as he was collapsed against a bookshelf, holding the hunting shotgun. There must have been a massive amount of bleeding from his stomach, as he could see his blood had stained the entire bookshelf.
“Ugh, uuuuughk!”
Se-gun covered his mouth and forcibly suppressed the emotions that were bursting out. He felt like he would go crazy with sadness, but his body was telling him how dangerous the current situation was.
Se-gun put his injured hand in his mouth and bit down hard as he took the shotgun from his hyung's body. The six-shot shotgun, commonly used for hunting, had no ammunition. It wasn't hunting season now, so his father didn't keep ammunition at home either.
<><><>
But if so, why was his hyung? Se-gun shut his eyes tightly and put his hand in his hyung's pocket. As expected, there were two shotgun shells. Se-gun loaded them and came back out into the hallway.
His vision was blurry because of tears, but Se-gun carefully walked down the hallway.
As he walked, he turned on every single light he could. The thought of wanting the police to come quickly and the feeling that he had to find that bastard himself were in conflict. Se-gun forcibly suppressed those feelings and opened his own room on the second floor.
“Krrrrgh!”
It happened in an instant. The moment he put his hand on the door and was just turning the doorknob, the door suddenly shattered and a person burst out.
Se-gun was pushed by the shattering door and rolled on the hallway floor. With one arm broken, he had been forcing his hand onto the trigger, and as he was pushed and fell, the gun misfired.
Bang