Chapter 2 / Episode 02
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you don’t say anything.”
Rachel brushed the nape of Doyoung’s neck with her fingertips as she turned away.
“Did you know vampires have different preferences? Some prefer pretty women regardless of gender, others favor handsome men. Some even like overweight humans because they have more blood. As for me…”
Warm breath grazed his ear.
“I adore strong men.”
Rachel pressed her nose into Doyoung’s nape and whispered as she trailed up his neck.
“There’s nothing more exhilarating than pinning down men bursting with muscle, watching those so confident in their strength mentally crumble, unable to lift a finger as I drink their blood.”
The men who’d followed them in resembled stiff radish cubes, all sporting bandaged necks as if they’d been carrying lunchboxes.
With Rachel’s nose now buried behind his ear, Doyoung tilted his head slightly before meeting her gaze.
“Sorry, but my neck’s sensitive. Maybe ease up on the breathing?”
Rachel lifted her head.
“How refreshing. It’d be a waste to drain you dry so soon.”
She stepped back.
“Shall we begin?”
At her signal, a hulking white man who could’ve made Fedor weep stepped forward and punched Doyoung’s face with a crack. Had the chair not been bolted down, it would’ve toppled over.
Doyoung grimaced as he straightened his neck.
“Could’ve at least flashed the warning lights first.”
“Relax. You’re only human,” Rachel said, lounging in a chair brought by another man.
“I could tell from those marshmallow punches of yours.”
As Doyoung spoke, the man squared up like a boxer and drove his fist into Doyoung’s gut. Though Doyoung had braced, the blow would’ve ruptured organs in an untrained man. He nearly thanked the sadistic instructor who’d made them endure ROKA soldiers’ punches to “build resilience.”
Doyoung gagged before exhaling sharply. Rachel smirked.
“He’s Spetsnaz. Best not anger him.”
“Wow, Russian bro. Terrifying. Spasiba,” Doyoung laughed. Rachel arched a brow.
“Does MCTC teach captives to provoke their captors?”
“Hardly. They just gave up on training me.”
Rachel leaned against the armrest, amused.
“Pity. We could’ve had fun if we’d met on Tinder.”
“I prefer organic encounters.”
The Spetsnaz suddenly grabbed Doyoung’s face with pot-lid-sized hands, roaring in garbled Russian.
Doyoung stared blankly.
“Brush your teeth?”
The man kicked the chair. Once. Twice. It flipped, sending Doyoung crashing to the floor with a deafening clatter.
“Don’t kill him,” Rachel drawled, strolling over.
“Now, Major. Who do you think we are?”
Doyoung tilted his head back against the floor.
“SN remnants.”
“Remnants? Call us the second generation. Like phoenixes—we burn ourselves to ash and rise stronger.”
The click of heels punctuated her words.
“Complete.”
Click.
“...and untouchable.”
Rachel loomed over him, backlit like an unapproachable deity. Doyoung chuckled.
Her smile chilled.
“What’s funny?”
“You sound just like SN. Do they teach you that?”
Rachel’s laugh was honeyed, though her eyes glinted.
“The fresher they are, the sweeter the breakdown. Human men are too fragile—they never last. But vampire men? Too rigid. In body… and mind.”
She slowly licked her lips with a crimson tongue.
“Humans, though? Deliciously pliant.”
A shiver crawled up his spine. Rachel was infamous for breaking men into toys. None returned from her grasp.
A wristband buzzed. Rachel answered, her tone shifting.
“Yes, Chairman.”
After a pause, she turned to Doyoung.
“The Chairman wants to see you himself.”
Two bear-sized Russians hauled him up. Rachel lifted his chin with a finger, serpentine eyes gleaming.
“When this ends, you’re mine.”
They dragged him through sterile halls too polished for a crumbling terrorist cell. A hangar door opened, revealing an unmarked military transport plane.
Doyoung’s jaw tightened. How do they have equipment rivaling national armies?
The Russians shoved him into a seat near the ramp door. Rachel boarded like a queen reviewing troops, slit skirt revealing toned legs.
“Depart.”
The ramp sealed with a final thud.
Doyoung glanced at the rear window. Ocean sprawled below. Meeting the “Chairman” would tighten security. His only escape chance was now—but how, midair?
“Look ahead.”
One of the Luas sitting on either side growled.
They were a bunch of unlikable bastards anyway.
But with no other options, Doyoung returned his head to its original position. Rachel watched with apparent interest.
Women liking Doyoung was common enough, and he didn’t particularly mind—but rarely did he wish they’d tone it down like now.
A crew member approached Rachel. “Military aircraft ahead. They’re demanding identification.”
Rachel glanced at Doyoung. “MCTC?”
Though Doyoung doubted it himself, the crew member answered: “Doesn’t appear so.”
“Then why are they tailing us when we deliberately took this detour over international waters?”
“We’ll find out.”
Doyoung remained silent.
Beep.
The sudden sound couldn’t have escaped the vampires flanking him. The left one scowled. “What’s that noise?” He looked at Doyoung, whose hands remained bound behind his back. That’s when an elbow smashed into his jaw from the side.
“The sound of your jaw getting wrecked!”
Though vampire bodies were tank-like compared to humans, jaws remained vulnerable spots. Hit right, and you could deal serious damage.
“How’d you…!” the right vampire shouted in shock.
Doyoung almost appreciated how these creatures’ overconfidence in their physical superiority made them slow to react. Probably instinct telling them no human could do much while flanked like this.
Little did they know. His profession involved spending most waking hours studying and training against vampires.
Doyoung drove a fist into the right vampire’s face. Normally ineffective, but using his handcuffs as makeshift brass knuckles sent the man reeling, blood gushing as he clutched his face.
Doyoung didn’t waste the moment. As he threw the punch, he simultaneously discarded the belt he’d already loosened and lunged forward.
Boom!
The plane shook violently as if missile-struck. Instinctively, Doyoung grabbed the seat’s netting.
“What the hell!” Rachel shrieked hysterically.
The cabin pressure system seemed damaged from whatever hit them. If that was true, then maybe…
Doyoung’s eyes found the ramp door button on the wall nearby. The Legion members were too busy assessing the situation to notice—no doubt assuming they’d quickly subdue him anyway.
The moment stability returned, Doyoung sprinted. Grabbing cargo straps for balance, he hammered the ramp button with his palm.
Thud.
Whirr.
The ramp began opening, light flooding in. Just as he’d guessed—it only locked during pressurized flight.
“What…!” Only then did Legion members turn in shock, but with the gaping void beyond the open ramp, they could only cling to handholds rather than approach.
Winds strong enough to make Rachel’s morning hairstylist weep tore through as she sneered through whipping hair: “Think a human can survive jumping from this altitude?”
Doyoung grinned. “Better odds than being your prisoner, no?”
Truthfully, even hitting water from this height without a parachute would leave him like a mosquito crushed between palm and wall. The open door left them at an impasse.
The Luas began edging closer once they realized his bravado had limits. Predictable beast-like behavior from creatures more animal than man.
Whump!
The plane dropped so sharply it felt like freefall—evasive maneuvers against enemy aircraft that proved Doyoung’s unlikely salvation.
“Hey, careful…!” someone shouted uselessly.
The vampires all clung desperately—Rachel single-handedly gripping seat netting with surprising (likely noble-blooded) strength. Doyoung’s arms burned as veins bulged at maximum exertion.
The ocean rushed up terrifyingly fast. Wind tore at exposed skin like flaying knives. This was his only chance.
Releasing his grip while twisting midair, Doyoung leapt out just as the plane pulled up sharply. Everyone gaped—none expecting a human would actually jump.
“That crazy…!”
The male vampire peered down at nothingness before telling Rachel: “No human survives that fall alive. Even if by some miracle, these waters contain nothing but uninhabited islands.”
“Without GPS, not even MCTC could find him,” he added as she kept staring down like a snake that lost its prey. “He’d just slowly die stranded on some deserted rock.”
Rachel finally looked up with a derisive snort.
“What a shame. He could’ve been my favorite plaything.”
