After Sandra confird that her son was unhard, she instructed Al to move into a room inside the main house. This ti, Al didn’t protest—he simply complied.
The servants helped gather his belongings from the debris. There wasn’t much: a few decent but worn clothes—poor by Virellano family standards—and several new outfits Aurielle had given him days ago, most of which still looked untouched.
The servants seed hesitant, whether because they weren’t familiar with Al or because the dust from the ruins still clung to his belongings.
Uncle Acok also ordered so of his n to accompany Al in moving his things. Their faces were stern, but they tried to put on "friendly" expressions.
Al glanced at them briefly and spoke,
"You don’t need to help. I don’t have much. Besides, you look like you could use so rest."
The guards looked unsure, but eventually nodded and left without a word.
For a mont, Al stood among the ruins of his old room, watching the servants pick through the debris for salvageable clothes and items.
Making sure no one was watching him, he moved to the center of the ruined building. His eyes narrowed as he touched the cracked floor, revealing a glimpse of what lay beneath.
There was still a strong energy underground—like the pulse of an ancient object he would soon retrieve. It didn’t belong to this dinsion, yet it felt strangely familiar, as if he’d encountered such energy before... though he couldn’t recall when or where.
After checking, he grabbed his backpack—filled with clothes and essential tools—and followed the servants carrying the rest of his things to a much better room.
It was nothing like his old one.
A spacious chamber with polished black-and-white marble floors, wide windows overlooking the courtyard and hall, lavish furniture, a grand bed with layered sheets, a wardrobe bigger than his destroyed room, and a glittering crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
So this... would’ve been my life if we were never switched, Al thought as he sat on the bed’s edge. Or maybe... it should’ve been even more than this.
He stood, heading to close the door. His mind wandered back to his childhood—his ti in the orphanage, the struggles that shaped him to this point.
"I don’t even know... the more I stay here, the more I’m glad we were switched back then. Because if not, I might have ended up like them," he muttered softly.
His hand reached for the doorknob—but sothing in the hallway caught his eye.
He froze.
Not far from Clarista’s door, Fani stood, leaning against the wall with her head lowered. Her pajamas were wrinkled, her hair slightly ssy, her energy unstable.
It wasn’t the aura of a shy or tired woman. It was sothing else...
...her inner energy was in disarray.
Al’s eyes sharpened, a faint glint appearing—his dinsional sight activating.
"Sothing’s wrong..." he murmured.
Fani’s body swayed weakly, like an addict deprived of her fix.
Al didn’t rush to act. He simply watched.
Her pupils reddened as she stared toward Clarista’s room, smiling faintly and curling her tongue. She reached for the door—
—but stopped.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of movent and turned her head—only to find Al watching her, his gaze sharp and probing, as if suspecting she was hiding sothing sinister.
Al, still standing at his doorway. His gaze never wavered.
Fani turned her head and t his eyes.
For an outsider, it might have looked like two people exchanging glances in the middle of the night. But beneath those gazes was sothing much darker.
Fani smiled and shut Clarista’s door again. Then she started walking toward Al—slowly—wearing an unsettling grin. Like a beast that had just found new prey.
Her eyes reddened, her irises faintly glowing.
Her frail posture straightened, her pulse quickened, her breathing grew heavy.
Like a predator unable to resist its prey.
"I just need... just a taste..." she whispered.
Her steps were slow, unsteady, one hand trailing along the wall to keep balance. Her movents were more like a stalking animal than the graceful, intelligent woman she appeared to be.
Al didn’t move.
Until Fani lowered into a poised stance—ready to strike.
Her body leaned forward, her right hand curling, fingers elongating—not physically, but in the energy Al sensed.
Then—
WROOSSHH...
In an instant, a dark aura engulfed the hallway.
A slow-spreading wave of blackish-red energy seeped from beneath Al’s feet, wrapping the corridor like fine smoke. The air turned hot and suffocating.
Fani froze. She had to. Her body refused to move.
But what she saw was far worse—
Behind Al, a colossal red shadow lood. A formless giant with blazing crimson eyes, staring directly into her soul.
Whatever you’re thinking... Don’t do anything stupid.
The voice didn’t enter through her ears—it struck her mind directly.
And don’t... touch anyone in this house.
The voice was deep, crushing, like a thousand dead spirits speaking at once.
Fani trembled.
Cold sweat drenched her back and forehead. Her breath caught, her heart raced chaotically. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—only her eyes widened in raw terror.
W-What is this creature? Not human... not djinn... then why... am I—
Her knees nearly gave out. If not for the wall, she would have collapsed.
Al stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
His gaze was sharp, deadly. His smile—far more terrifying than Fani’s earlier grin.
When he reached her, he simply took her hand.
Soft, pale... and now ice cold.
Fani didn’t resist. Her body was paralyzed by a fear she had never known—not even when facing massive monsters.
He’s... not human... He’s... the true predator.
Al exhaled softly.
"I didn’t realize you were a demi-human... not until tonight. You’re tricky to detect." He spoke casually, his eyes fixed on Fani.
Fani’s eyes widened. She struggled to respond.
"H-How... do you know?"
She was a hybrid—half human, half djinn—better known as a demi-human.
"I even know you’re vampire-type," Al replied lazily.
Her shock deepened. He knew exactly what kind of djinn she was.
Vampire-type djinn—rare even among djinn themselves, closer to multidinsional beings than true djinn. They craved the life energy within human blood, preferring only the highest quality. This made them unusually active in the human dinsion, despite the heavy dinsional cost.
They hid behind false identities for generations, blending into human society, so even forming forbidden relationships with humans. Fani was one such result.
Not bloodsuckers like in ancient myths, but devourers of life energy within blood—and the Virellano family’s blood was among the most irresistible.
Including Al.
"Looks like you need so discipline. And a little lesson," Al said coldly.
He raised his other hand.
Elental Magic – Dark Type: Shadow Blend.
The floor beneath them shifted. Shadows flowed like liquid, swallowing them whole. No sound. No light. Just a smooth current beneath the earth.
The shadow moved swiftly, leaving the Virellano residence behind.
Monts later, they erged at the far edge of the forest behind the Virellano estate.
Cold night air greeted them. The starry sky hung overhead, the wind carrying the scent of damp grass and soil.
Fani collapsed to the ground, coughing softly, still trembling. The spiritual pressure hadn’t fully faded.
Al stood before her, calm but still surrounded by that swirling dark aura.
"I’ve lifted the pressure. You should be able to speak now," he said flatly.
She coughed again, her body weak, eyes locked on Al in the dim moonlight. The fear still hadn’t left.
"Who are you...? How do you know who I am?" she whispered.
Al shrugged, stepping closer.
"I don’t know who you are. I only know what you are... and you should be explaining why you’re here, not asking questions."
He added without looking at her,
"Besides... identifying a demi-human isn’t that hard."
It sounded like mockery—and it worked. The fear in her body slowly gave way to irritation. She exhaled sharply and began to stand. Dark red aura seeped from her skin like vaporized blood.
She was ready to fight.
And it seed... a serious battle was about to begin.
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