What is the defining feature that separates day from night?
Naturally, it is the presence or absence of light.
Light illuminates the world, granting us the power to discern the path ahead in this harsh world. Without light, we know nothing. Even with death right before our eyes, we might innocently thrust our faces toward it like a three-year-old child.
The unknown is not courage, but terror. When taking a single step forward in the pitch-black, the fact that unseen fangs do not tear into your throat is not an achievement born of courage, but simply a stroke of luck. Ordinary people who realize this instinctively avoid the darkness.
Taking as a cautionary tale those who never returned after acting recklessly.
"Arise."
Thus, the night has always been something to be wary of. The unknowable is synonymous with terror and dread.
Humans building houses and lighting fires were also self-rescue measures devised to drive away the darkness. It is the act of filling one's surroundings with the familiar to alleviate fear.
"Arise."
"Haaah!"
So when someone invaded my room in the dead of night. I reflexively sprang up and turned on the lamp beside my bed.
Who would sneak in at night without any warning? Let alone into my room. They must have come with malicious intent...
That was what I thought, but the figure that met my eyes was completely unexpected.
It was a beautiful girl with a purely white impression. Rather than possessing white coloring, it felt as though she lacked pigmentation.
A bloodless face, desaturated silver hair, a warmthless expression, and a motionless chest.
A frail impression, as if lacking several elements that make up life.
An aristocratic and classical elegance oozed from her, yet compared to her mysterious atmosphere, her appearance looked young. However, that was not because she was undergrown, but rather an ephemeral feeling, as if her growth had been stolen from a certain moment onward.
A ghost? Her hair and limbs are incredibly thin. She looks like she would break at the slightest touch, making it difficult to approach her casually. It gives off a precarious sense of vulnerability, like looking at white porcelain just before it drops to the floor.
Yet, that very unease is also a charm. When will it drop, how will it shatter, how beautiful will the red liquid flowing between the broken fragments be? Such anticipation evokes a dizzying and depraved impulse.
The blood throughout my entire body is drawn to her. It is dizzying. I feel a dizzying sensation akin to falling. Unconsciously, I reached out my hand—.
"Ah."
I read my opponent.
She's a vampire.
Why is she here?
Don't tell me.
"Have you finally come to slit open the belly of the goose that lays the golden eggs?"
Her red eyes, which shone even in the darkness, were filled with bewilderment.
"Why are you spouting such nonsense in your sleep?"
"Are you that starved? But please think about it for a moment. This is a highly foolish choice. The blood flowing throughout my body is about 5 liters. If you catch me now, that is all the blood you will get. However, I can produce blood every single day, and if you squeeze me to the absolute limit, I can provide about 300mL of blood every week. In 17 weeks, roughly 120 days, it becomes more profitable to keep me alive from then on. Remember. Become a monster of interest rates. For someone who lives as long as you do, compound interest is unconditionally the better deal..."
I, imparting forbidden knowledge to a vampire who will live forever unless the world ends, might have just created a monster...
The vampire quietly looked down at me as I prattled on, then spoke.
"Are you fully awake now?"
"Yes. Running my mouth a bit brought me to my senses."
"Good. I suppose I may sit?"
"Ah, yes."
As I nodded, the vampire created a black chair out of thin air and sat down on it.
Sitting on the bed, I rubbed my face with my hands a few times. I don't sense any hostility or appetite from her. It seems it wasn't my fate to die today after all.
I hope she doesn't think it's too strange that I was frightened. A vampire visiting quietly in the middle of the night. That's the world's third greatest terror, right after tigers and plagues.
It's a relief the vampire has no intention of harming me. Otherwise, I would have been sucked dry like a fallen coconut.
"What business do you have in my room at this hour?"
I asked the question as a way to read her thoughts, but there was no need to use telepathy; the vampire answered honestly.
"Indeed. I came looking for you because I have something urgent to say. You might think it a bit sudden, but it felt like there would be no opportunity other than the dead of night..."
The vampire stopped mid-sentence, looked around briefly, then covered her face slightly with a parasol and lowered her head.
"I called for you from outside, but you would not wake from your sleep. I had no choice but to step into your room... Why is your sleep so deep? I had to come in myself."
'A woman secretly visiting a man's room in the dead of night is something I couldn't even have imagined.'
Hey, before calling yourself a woman or whatever, I wish you'd acknowledge the fact that you're a vampire. It was incredibly scary. The pounding of my heart right now is the pulse of terror one feels when encountering a natural predator.
I'm the one who got startled, so why is she acting like she's the one who suffered a loss...
Whatever. Taking advantage of the situation, I stuck my tongue out with a wicked smile.
"Kekeke. Coming to see me secretly in the dead of night means you're prepared, right...? Did you miss me that much? Very well. I shall treat you however you desire..."
"Do not jest. I am serious."
Displeasure clouds her red eyes. She's the one who intruded at night, yet she won't even let me joke around. Unfair.
But the age difference between me and the vampire is even more unfair than that. I tucked my tail and swiftly changed the subject.
"That's because you keep interrupting me. You're usually so composed, yet you were anxious enough to come all the way here in the middle of the night, so why can't you bring it up and are just twirling your hair?"
"That is... It is a bit sudden for me to say this. But, well, I have an urgent favor to ask of you."
"Hurry. I'm but a mere human, so I cannot read the mind of a Tirkanjaka trainee. If you don't say it, I won't know."
Actually, I do know. Because I just read it.
No, perhaps ever since I attempted heart resuscitation today, I had a premonition that this might happen. The vampire's longing for a stopped heart and a stolen life had still been knotting up inside her even after a thousand years.
Sure enough. The vampire made up her mind and looked straight at me. In her red eyes, the desire of a human clinging to a single strand of hope was burning fiercely.
It was exactly like looking at a novice clutching a good hand in a gambling den.
"The heart, I mean. With what you did today, you made a stopped heart beat again."
"Yes."
"Inside my body, there is also a stopped heart. A hearth that has broken down from not being kindled for a long time."
A vampire's heart does not beat. Their hearts remain frozen cold, merely letting blood flow through. A vampire's heart is nothing more than a site where countless streams of blood converge.
Then how does their blood move? By what principle does the red liquid, which is also the root of life, circulate...?
The answer is surprisingly simple.
Blood Control Art.
The vampire's technique of manipulating blood, which the regressor had tried to learn.
With it, they directly control every single drop and stream of blood, spreading it throughout their entire body. They force it into the gaps between muscles and beneath the skin, one by one. The blood, controlled entirely by their own will, moves the body even without a heartbeat.
That is the reason vampires can live on despite being dead.
"Will you revive that hearth with your flame?"
Therefore, a vampire's heart does not beat. Their hearts are stopped. The blood flows grandly regardless of the heart. As naturally as a flowing river.
A passionate blood flow that feels like wringing something out is a concept that does not exist for vampires. They do not get excited or saddened. Even if they were to feel such emotions, there is absolutely no effect on their flesh.
"I beg you. With a heart that beats of its own accord... I want to die while alive."
Their faces don't flush. Their veins don't bulge. Their vision doesn't narrow.
Their eyes don't redden. Tears don't fall. Their hands and feet don't tremble from nervousness, nor does sorrow constrict their entire body.
Excitement, sorrow. They end as mere flashing thoughts in the mind. Emotions without hormones have no persistence.
Over the past thousand-odd years, some people have admired vampires. They even envied their immortal bodies and cold, composed minds, which they themselves could not possess. The only emotion a vampire could have was reverence toward their blood lord.
However, their progenitor, Tirkanjaka, had never liked it for even a single moment.
Thus, the vampire came to me. Carrying a desperate desire she had harbored for a thousand years, yet a hollow regret she couldn't truly feel in her heart.
As I only stared in silence, the vampire smiled sadly.
"...A bit unsightly, isn't it? I've already lived for over a thousand years, yet I still have such lingering attachments. I've lived several times longer than others, but I shamelessly desire more life."
I shrugged and replied.
"What of it? The fact that you've lived until now cannot diminish your desire to keep living."
At my unexpectedly tender answer, the vampire's mouth opened slightly.
"I thought you would tease me. That is unexpected."
"When did I ever make fun of the Tirkanjaka trainee? I've been consistently considerate. There is no one who respects the elderly as earnestly as I do."
"...Is it not? Am I still being teased?"
She had been strangely sensitive whenever I brought up her age before. She must have felt shameless about wanting to live on.
The vampire lowered her gaze and muttered.
"I am not afraid of death. For I have already died once. I am not afraid of pain either. For I have endured much pain over a long time. But... the experiences and emotions, and the pain I have felt in this body... have all been filtered once. Observed through slowly flowing blood. It feels as though all my past years are fake, and that is so terrifying..."
The vampire suddenly grabbed my arm. Her cold hand gripped me like a last lifeline. The strength contained within it was minimal, but I could not bring myself to shake off the vampire's hand.
Filled with chilling sorrow, the vampire pleaded with me.
"I will do anything. I beg of you. Bring my heart back to life."
Tsk. This is not good.
A faint expectation seeping out of faded hope. A twilight dream. Lost innocence.
These are all elements that drive a magician mad.
When you see someone craving a hope they don't even believe in themselves, doesn't it make you want to startle them somehow?
For planting illusions is the very duty of a magician.
I asked once again.
"You will do anything?"
"Yes. It is a thousand-year wish, so what could I not do?"
"Then."
I rose from the bed. The vampire's gaze followed me. The head of the vampire sitting in the chair barely reached my waist.
I neatly arranged the bedding, patted the hard mattress firmly, and commanded.
"Bare your chest and lie down here."
At that, the vampire's eyes flinched. Like someone who had never expected such a reaction.
"Bare my chest, you say? That is..."
"Did you not say you would do anything?"
This attitude, these eyes.
Desperation, and the hope found within it. Familiar. At the same time, my mouth waters as if I've seen delicious prey. My gut, having lived as a back-alley card shark, is crying out.
This is an easy mark.
A good hand has finally fallen into my grasp, someone ready to go all-in if I lead the bet. An easy mark whose very spine and blood I can suck dry.
If I let such an easy mark slip away, the name of a gambler would weep.
"You must lie down for me to do the job. Come on, hurry."
I commanded firmly. The vampire flinched, as if her feet could not easily move. Her pure white hand needlessly grasped at the empty air before letting go. Then, as if finally making up her mind, she gripped her collar with her small hand and stood up from her seat.