REBORN AS A NECROMANCER : BUILDING THE ULTIMATE UNDEAD ARMY Chapter 27: Threesome- New blood in town

On the other side of the city, the ruins stretched endlessly into shadow. Broken windows gaped like hollow eyes while rusted fire escapes clung to crumbling buildings like broken bones. Chunks of concrete lay scattered across streets that hadn’t seen traffic in years, weeds pushing through cracks in the asphalt. This part of the city had died a slow, forgotten death.

Through this urban graveyard, a figure moved with quiet confidence.

She walked like she owned every broken piece of pavent beneath her feet. Tight jeans hugged her legs, and a cropped hoodie revealed just a strip of pale skin at her waist. Despite the warm night, her hood stayed up, casting her face in shadow. Each step carried purpose as she navigated around debris without so much as glancing down—as if she’d morized every crack, every fallen brick, every twisted piece of tal.

Most people avoided the condemned zone entirely. Ergency services had stopped responding to calls from this wasteland months ago. It was the perfect place for things that preferred privacy, for business that couldn’t bear scrutiny.

Her footsteps echoed off empty storefronts and abandoned apartnts. She humd sothing soft and sweet, the lody floating through air thick with decay. The sound seed impossibly innocent against the backdrop of urban death. Occasionally she’d pause to examine a piece of graffiti or peer through a shattered window, but mostly she just walked, following so internal compass deeper into the ruins.

Then voices drifted around the corner—low, urgent, intimate.

A couple had claid a secluded spot between a collapsed wall and an overturned delivery truck. The woman pressed against weathered brick, her legs wrapped around her partner’s waist as they lost themselves in passion. Their soft moans and breathless whispers seed absurdly vulnerable in all this decay, a mont of life blooming in a place where everything else had withered.

They looked young—early twenties at most. His jacket hung open over a stained shirt while her dress had ridden up around her waist. Everything about them scread cheap districts and landlords who didn’t ask questions. Probably squatters making the best of a bad situation.

The newcor stopped to watch, and a soft giggle escaped her lips.

Both lovers froze mid-kiss, turning toward the sound with the sharp alertness of prey sensing a predator. Embarrassnt flickered across their faces first, quickly burning away to leave sothing harder, more dangerous.

"The fuck you laughing at?" the man demanded, though he didn’t pull away from his partner. His hands simply shifted to her hips, ready to lift her clear if trouble started.

The newcor raised one hand in mock apology and turned away, continuing down the street as if nothing had happened. Her humming resud, that sa innocent lullaby drifting through the night air.

Behind her, urgent whispers replaced the sounds of passion. Their clothes rustled as the couple separated, followed by the unmistakable click of weapons being readied. This wasn’t romance interrupted—this was business.

The woman pulled a revolver from beneath her dress, checking the cylinder with practiced motions. Old gun but well-maintained, the kind that never jamd when you needed it most. Her partner drew a hunting knife with an eight-inch blade, testing its weight and balance like an extension of his own hand.

They exchanged a look that spoke of shared experience, of other nights like this one. This wasn’t their first hunt together, and they worked with the smooth coordination of a team that had learned to trust each other’s instincts.

The woman took point, moving like a predator born to stalk through shadows. Her partner followed at the right distance, ready to cut off escape routes. anwhile, their target kept walking ahead, apparently oblivious to the danger, her innocent lullaby floating back to them on the warm night breeze.

The deeper they moved into the condemned zone, the darker it beca. Streetlights had died months ago, their broken fixtures hanging like dead flowers. Only pale moonlight illuminated the broken pavent and scattered debris, casting everything in silver and shadow. This was hunting ground—territory where screams went unheard and bodies stayed hidden.

After several blocks of this deadly procession, the newcor finally stopped.

She turned slowly, deliberately, pushing back her hood enough to reveal her face with theatrical flair. Moonlight revealed high cheekbones and full lips curved in amusent, eyes that caught and held the pale light like polished glass. Dark hair fell to her shoulders in waves that seed styled with casual perfection despite the urban wasteland around them.

"Are you following ?" she asked, her voice pitched with theatrical confusion that bordered on mockery. "Or maybe you want to make this a... threeso?"

The male thief stepped forward, letting his knife catch the moonlight in a way designed to intimidate. His girlfriend moved right with smooth coordination, gun ready but held low—they’d clearly done this before.

"Smart mouth," he said, trying to inject casual nace into his voice. "Maybe you should use it for sothing more productive."

She placed her hand over her mouth in exaggerated shock, eyes widening with mock terror. The performance was so deliberately insulting it made both thieves tense with barely contained rage.

"Oh my," she gasped breathily, voice dripping with false innocence. "Whatever shall I do? I’m absolutely terrified of your big scary knife."

His grip tightened on the weapon’s handle, knuckles going white. "Stop fucking around. Drop whatever you’ve got and walk away. Do that, and you won’t get hurt."

"All I have are these clothes," she replied, running her hands slowly over her body in a gesture that managed to be both seductive and mocking. "Want to take them off? I’m happy to accommodate whatever fantasies you might have."

The female thief’s face flushed with fury. "Shut your whore mouth before I shut it for you."

"Such language from such a pretty girl." The newcor’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seed just a shade too white in the moonlight. "And here I thought we were having such a pleasant conversation."

That pushed the woman over the edge. She raised the revolver with steady hands, sighted down the barrel with cold calculation, and squeezed the trigger without hesitation.

The gunshot thundered off the surrounding buildings, muzzle flash painting everything stark white for a split second. The sound rolled through the empty streets like judgnt itself.

But the bullet accomplished absolutely nothing.

The newcor stood exactly where she’d been, expression unchanged, showing no sign of impact or injury. The bullet had simply ceased to exist sowhere in the space between gun and target, as if reality itself had swallowed it whole.

Both thieves stared in disbelief. The woman looked down at her weapon, then back at her still-smiling target, mind struggling to process what she’d just witnessed.

"Impossible," she whispered, then fired again with desperate determination.

This ti they saw what happened. The bullet struck sothing invisible roughly two feet from the newcor’s body and ricocheted away at a sharp angle, embedding in brick with a spray of dust and chips. So kind of barrier—perfectly transparent but absolutely solid.

Without hesitation, which was stupid, the man threw his knife with perfect form, the blade spinning end over end in a lethal arc. It bounced off the sa invisible protection and clattered across the broken pavent, completely harmless.

The newcor sighed, her amusent shifting to boredom with the disappointed air of soone watching a movie that had failed to live up to its promising trailer.

"You’re both so disappointing," she said with clinical disinterest, as if discussing a failed experint. "Tedious, really. I was hoping for sothing more entertaining than this pathetic display."

"How about this?!" The man charged with a roar of frustrated rage. If projectiles wouldn’t work, maybe raw physical force would succeed where weapons had failed. Not once did he stop to question his reasoning. He launched himself at her with surprising speed, hands reaching for her throat with murderous intent.

He stopped three feet away, suspended in midair as if caught by invisible hands. A wet gurgling sound ca from his throat as sothing crystalline and red erged from her back—a spear of what looked like solidified blood extending between them to pierce his neck cleanly.

"Did you really think you were fast enough?" she asked conversationally, as if discussing the weather while he hung there choking on his own blood. "Faster than a bullet? Did you actually imagine you’d be the first to mar this beautiful face?"

She pulled her hood back completely, revealing features that belonged in classical sculpture—perfect proportions, haunting beauty, utterly without rcy. Her eyes blazed with red light from within, casting red shadows across her pale skin.

"How presumptuous of you to even try."

The blood construct slamd him into the pavent with enough force to crater the concrete beneath. The impact crushed bone and ruptured organs, but the killing was far from finished. The crystalline spear began drawing blood from his body, pulling vital fluid through their connection until nothing remained but desiccated at wrapped in clothing. The entire process took perhaps thirty seconds.

The female thief stood frozen in horror, gun forgotten in her trembling hand as she watched her partner transform into sothing resembling beef jerky.

"What...what kind of Bloodsucker are you?" she whispered through lips gone white with terror.

The newcor’s smile widened, revealing teeth that were definitely too sharp and white to belong to anything human.

"I’m not your typical vampire, darling. I am..." She paused, seeming to reconsider her words with theatrical deliberation. "Actually, there’s no point explaining anything to soone who’s about to be dead."

The blood construct expanded like a living tide, flowing around the terrified woman with liquid grace. Her scream cut short as the red mass engulfed her completely, crushing and draining simultaneously with the efficiency of a machine designed for killing.

When the feeding finished, sothing remarkable happened. The construct began arranging both corpses with deliberate care, positioning the male’s drained remains to form a rough circle while placing the female’s body to create an X beside it. Every detail was deliberate, aningful—a signature written in death.

The newcor stepped back to admire her handiwork, brushing imaginary dust from her hands with the satisfaction of an artist completing a masterpiece.

"Perfect." She turned to continue her journey through the ruins, already dismissing the violence behind her.

Her humming resud—that sa innocent lullaby, now grotesquely inappropriate after double murder. Her pace remained unhurried and casual, as if the interruption had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience on an evening stroll.

"This city shows real promise," she said to the empty air, voice carrying genuine anticipation. "I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here imnsely."

Behind her, the arranged corpses served as both calling card and warning—a signature marking the arrival of sothing new and predatory in a city that thought it had already seen every kind of monster.

The ruins swallowed her footsteps as she disappeared deeper into the urban wasteland, leaving behind only silence, shadows, and the lingering tallic scent of spilled blood.