Chapter 6: Exposed
Abominations.
That was what the world called them—bloodthirsty by nature, hideous in appearance, violent beyond reason. Under the Church’s long-standing influence, they were regarded as punishnt sent by the Lord.
But beyond the surface, they had a far older and more official na.
The Bloodkin.
The struggle between humans and the Bloodkin had endured for over a century. Civilization once trembled beneath the threat of fangs, towns turning into graveyards before dawn.
Only after breakthroughs in technology and the widespread use of specialized anti-Bloodkin weapons did the situation gradually reverse. The latter retreated from the stage of history.
A once-noble race had degenerated into rats hiding in the shadows, occasionally losing control and exposing themselves, only to be purged by the Church and hunters.
Eve despised the Bloodkin.
She despised herself as well.
Yet she had not been born this way. She had been transford.
She had been fifteen—an age like a blooming flower. The day before, she had been worrying about how to care for the flowers she had planted herself.
Calamity always ca suddenly. Her hotown was assaulted by frenzied Bloodkin. Flas soared into the sky. Screams echoed everywhere.
She watched with her own eyes as her parents used their flesh to block the charging monsters, carving out a single path of survival for her.
She escaped the inferno, only to collapse in an alley from exhaustion.
Cold stone slabs drew away her warmth. Her vision blurred from blood loss. Just as Eve believed she, too, would die—
That woman appeared.
A woman in a magnificent gown, with white hair just like hers now. At first, Eve thought she was rely a passerby and tried to reach for the hand extended toward her.
But in the next instant, the figure bent down. Moonlight traced the elegant curve of her jaw. Eve saw the woman’s pallid skin and the crimson pupils igniting in the dark.
Like the Bloodkin who had slaughtered her parents, the woman bared terrifying fangs and left upon her neck a bite that would never heal.
The light was too dim for Eve to see her face clearly. She only knew that she was Bloodkin.
Fear and rage intertwined. She wanted to struggle, but her blood-drained body no longer obeyed her will.
Like a broken doll, she could only submit—if it was demanded, she could only give.
Life was a strange thing. Perhaps Eve’s desire to survive moved God. After encountering that Bloodkin, she did not die.
Instead, she continued standing upon this earth in another form. Her black hair turned white. Her eyes burned crimson.
She realized… she was no longer human.
Or rather, she was an abomination.
Staring at her reflection, neither human nor ghost, Eve tightened her grip on the sink’s edge.
She did not understand why that Bloodkin had spared her—why she had “saved” her in such an intolerable way.
Forced without consent—disgusting.
Eve had sworn to find that woman and cut off her head with her own hands.
For her own life.
For her dead parents.
“That is… enough.”
With that thought, Eve removed the towel from her neck. The icy sting had diminished her craving for blood sowhat.
Though she was Bloodkin, she could restrain the urge. The best thod was to divert her attention—anything would do.
She rarely resorted to extre asures. Otherwise, how would she differ from soone driven to self-destruction?
She had accumulated enough burdens already. There was no need to stack more.
Eve let out a long breath. After suppressing the bloodlust, what followed was an overwhelming weakness. She could barely remain standing by gripping the sink.
The feeling was difficult to describe—like reaching the critical point of sothing and being forced to stop at the worst possible mont.
She had suppressed her need for blood for too long. The side effect was clear: exhaustion.
“Still unable to get used to this body…” she muttered through clenched teeth, considering whether she should simply sit on the floor.
Suddenly—
Her sharp hearing caught rapid footsteps approaching. Quick and urgent. The slap of slippers echoed like an alarm, each step striking her nerves.
Damn it! Who would still be awake at this hour?!
There was no ti to think. Though weak, Eve acted on instinct, snatching up the towel and covering her neck once more.
At the sa ti, because she had not closed the door earlier, the owner of the footsteps appeared like a gust of wind. Eve barely caught a glimpse—
A small figure with fiery red hair rushed past, clutching her nightdress, heading straight for the toilet. In hurried panic, she lifted the hem.
“Urgh—!”
Accompanied by a relieved, slightly trembling sound, the world seed to brighten instantly.
At least for the intruder.
For the white-haired beauty who would prefer her face censored, it was another matter entirely.
Eve: “……”
She froze, gripping the sink, crimson pupils contracting. All weakness and mories were shattered by this sudden spectacle.
So—had she intruded upon the girl’s urgent midnight visit, or had the girl barged into her mont of recovery?
A philosophical question.
But Eve’s attention was not on such trivialities. Her gaze had fallen upon the slender feet dangling by the toilet… and the glimpse of pure white undergarnts.
……
It might have been better with white stockings.
Only then did she properly see the intruder.
Fiery red hair fell ssily. A petite fra, almost childlike.
Her face was soft and cute, her eyes still closed—perhaps from drowsiness—wearing an expression of post-relief comfort.
Eve, however, was stunned.
A top assassin of the organization. A maid with first-class certification.
And yet now she had no response whatsoever.
Realizing this, she could not help doubting herself—but she did not forget to leave.
Carefully, cautiously, she began to move.
Less like a cat and more like a mouse fleeing before the cat noticed. One hand held the damp towel; the other tugged her collar higher to hide her neck.
Creak—
The rubber duck.
There were rubber ducks in the bathroom.
Eve: “……”
There was a certain curse she was tempted to utter.
You again?
Once outside was not enough—now you ambush
twice?
No… it was perfectly normal to have rubber ducks in a bathroom. That was not the point. The point was—
Eve slowly turned her head, still harboring a shred of hope.
Reality crushed it.
The girl—small as a child—slowly opened her eyes.
Their gazes locked.
For a mont, the air seed to freeze.
“…If I say you forced
to look, would you believe ?”
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