The pain was sharp and immediate, and the man in black instinctively tried to dodge the fatal blow from behind.

  But it was too late.

  The blade cut across his neck, and blood sprayed everywhere. His body tensed as his instincts kicked in, urging him to fight back. But as he turned to face his attacker, a chill ran down his spine.

  What the hell is this?!

  Standing under the moonlight was a small figure, her purple-red hair catching the light like a sinister flame. Her cold eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, and in her hand, she held a sharp blade. The air around her seemed to hum with dark, murderous intent.

  Three faint purple-red lines marked her forehead and cheeks, like strange tattoos, and an oppressive, almost evil aura radiated from her.

  This wasn’t an awakener.

  The man in black’s senses were sharp. He could feel the absence of Force in her—this wasn’t an awakened being. His mind raced, trying to process the impossible. His gaze flickered to the jagged little tiger teeth peeking from her lips, and the realization hit him like a slap to the face.

  She’s... infected!

  Fear surged within him. There was an infected person lurking with Axel.

  The man’s blood continued to drain, dizziness clouding his thoughts, but one thing was crystal clear in his mind: Escape.

  I have to get out of here.

  He shoved Axel away, clutching his bleeding neck and stumbling toward the roof. He didn’t bother with Axel anymore—his primary focus was on getting away. Even in his weakened state, the fear of infected people ran deep in his bones.

  Annabelle stood frozen for a moment, her eyes as cold as the blade she carried. Then, without warning, she lunged forward.

  Axel, leaning against the wall, gritted his teeth in pain as the blood continued to pour from his wound. His vision blurred, but he could still see Annabelle's cold precision. She was relentless, slashing and cutting, but the man in black was too fast and focused solely on his escape.

  Axel’s heart raced. "No, don’t let him get away."

  He watched as the man made a final, desperate leap toward the roof. Annabelle’s face flickered with something Axel had never seen before—an eerie mix of angry and... something else. The air around them seemed to thrum with tension.

  Then, in a split second, something changed. The blood in the air, from the man’s neck wound, shimmered before Annabelle’s eyes. The strangest sensation washed over her, a raw power, unlike anything she’d felt before.

  In that moment, her hand shot out, grabbing the man in black by the arm. Blood poured from his wound, flowing directly into her.

  Buzz!

  Annabelle’s body thrummed with energy as the blood seemed to spiral into her, like a rushing current, transforming into raw power.

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  The man in black tried to scream, but his body went limp, as if all life had been drained from him. His body collapsed into the garbage and weeds, motionless.

  The color drained from Annabelle’s hair, returning to the faded, malnourished shade it usually was. Her body trembled slightly as she collapsed to her knees, her face wet with tears.

  "Brother..." Her voice was thick with emotion. She stumbled toward Axel, her slender arms trying to lift him. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  But the girl who had just been a vengeful phantom was nowhere to be seen. Only the fragile girl remained, eyes wide and innocent.

  “I’m fine,” Axel muttered through gritted teeth, wrapping gauze around his bleeding side. He swallowed a Force-increasing pill, feeling some strength return to his body.

  He looked at Annabelle, who was still shaking in his arms.

  “What’s wrong?” Axel asked, frowning as he saw the confusion clouding her features.

  Annabelle blinked, her mind racing, her heart pounding. She had remembered everything—every single moment of what happened, and the memory didn’t fade like it had before. She remembered draining the man’s blood, feeling his life slip away under her hands.

  She looked up at Axel, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Brother... so... I really am infected, aren’t I?”

  She hung her head, the weight of the truth sinking in. Axel had always told her she was normal. But the truth was undeniable. Over the years, she'd known. The cravings, the strange abilities she had when she let herself feel the blood of others... She was different.

  "Have you ever seen an infected person awaken?" Axel asked, catching Annabelle off guard.

  "Awaken?" she repeated, a little confused.

  "Yeah. The move you used earlier—that was an awakening skill. I didn’t expect my sister to be such a rare genius and awaken so early. Did you awaken a while ago and just not tell me?"

  Annabelle could feel her face heat up at Axel's praise.

  “No, no... I was just... panicked. It happened suddenly. I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like awakening.” Axel’s grin was proud, but there was a hint of uncertainty in Annabelle’s eyes.

  “Anyway, enough about that. Help me over here.” Axel reached out, ruffling Annabelle’s hair. She giggled, feeling a rush of warmth. It had been so long since Axel had praised her like this—she almost felt light-headed.

  Axel's hand brushed over the green crystal, which had slowly emerged in front of him. He picked it up, inspecting it with a deep focus.

  “Jaxon... a top-tier killer, just shy of awakening himself. He bled out, killed by a twelve-year-old girl. There’s a massive secret buried with him, but... he’ll never get to spill it.”

  .....

  “Blood scent?”

  At the entrance of the slums, Skye and Freya were rushing toward Axel’s house. Skye had tried to reach Axel earlier, but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. He knew Axel wouldn’t just ignore him—something was off. And now that he couldn’t get through, Skye decided to check things out himself.

  As they approached, both Skye and Freya noticed something strange. Following a faint noise, they found a man in black sprawled out on the ground, his joints contorted at unnatural angles, lying at Kieran’s feet.

  "Kieran?" Skye asked, frowning as he recognized the martial arts instructor. "What the hell is going on here? Who is this guy?"

  "Skye?" Kieran’s face lit up in recognition. He was happy to see Skye—work connections aside, they’d always gotten along well.

  "Listen, I’m glad you're here," Kieran said quickly. "But Axel’s in danger. You need to hurry and look for him. Someone’s after him!"

  Skye’s brows furrowed in concern. "What do you mean, ‘someone’s after him’? Who? And what’s this about?"

  “There were two of them.” Kieran’s face darkened. "Even if the other one isn’t an awakener, he's no slouch. Don’t waste time asking questions—go after Axel. I’ll handle this one. That bastard... I tried to keep him, but he’s too fast and I’ve been held back by the awakener."

  Skye said with worry. “Got it. Let’s go, Freya.”

  The man in black—still tied up—sneered through the pain, his eyes flickering with resentment. It had been ten minutes since the battle started. If Axel hadn’t been killed by now, the man can really kill himself with a headbutt.

  But just as Freya and Skye prepared to leave, Freya froze, her eyes widening as she pointed toward the alley entrance.

  “Look!”

  Axel emerged from the darkness, covered in blood, but there was something oddly calm about his movements. He was holding a little girl’s hand, and in his other hand, he gripped a human head.

  “Axel?” Skye whispered, the words barely leaving his mouth.