"Cough… cough—" The man choked violently, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth as his eyes rolled upward, showing more white than pupil. His face rapidly lost all color, draining into a ghastly pale as Harley leaned over him, greedily drinking every last drop of blood.
"Enough."
A deep, oppressive voice echoed through the factory like a hammer striking steel.
In an instant, the raging bloodlust inside Kyle and Harley receded, as if it had been forcibly suppressed. Both of them hesitated, their gazes lingering reluctantly on the two lifeless corpses before finally pulling away.
Blood dripped slowly from the corners of their mouths, their pupils glowing with a faint scarlet light. Standing over the mangled bodies, they looked less like humans and more like creatures pulled straight out of a nightmare.
Locke glanced at them, a faint thought crossing his mind.
If I weren't the origin of all this… I'd probably be creeped out too.
His attention quickly shifted inward as his consciousness sank into his mind. He hadn't brought them here just to test their combat abilities—this was an experiment.
As expected.
His eyes lit up slightly as he focused on the faint glow emanating from the mental interface. The bloodline he created, when used to punish evil, could generate dimensional energy.
So this is how it works.
"Blood God!"
A weak but excited voice echoed through the factory. The man who had been hanging moments ago now stared at the scene with trembling relief, his eyes darting between the two blood-soaked figures approaching him.
Survival. The overwhelming realization hit him all at once.
Kyle's eyes flickered with red light as he subconsciously glanced at the man's still-bleeding abdomen.
"Master… what should we do with him?" he asked softly, his tone carrying a hint of hesitation as he noticed Locke seemed deep in thought.
The man's expression changed instantly, fear flooding his face as he looked at Kyle. The blood smeared across Kyle's white clothing, combined with the crimson stains around his mouth, made him look less like a savior and more like a demon dragged out of hell.
"I told you to punish sin, not become it."
Locke's voice rang out again, low and heavy.
The man froze, caught between fear and a fragile spark of hope. The name of the Blood God and the idea of judgment gave him just enough reassurance to steady himself.
Locke's gaze settled on him.
"You're dying."
The man instinctively glanced down, his eyes landing on the large pool of blood beneath him. The realization hit hard, and dizziness surged through his body like a tidal wave.
Damn… I'm still bleeding out.
His breathing quickened, panic rising as he looked up at Locke with desperate eyes.
Under Locke's silent command, Kyle stepped forward, albeit reluctantly, and lowered the man to the ground. The moment his body touched the floor, his consciousness began to fade, slipping into a hazy blur.
Through that haze, he saw Locke approaching.
Hope surged again.
The Blood God… he can save me.
A faint warmth began to spread through his abdomen, slow but steady.
His tense body relaxed almost immediately, and when he opened his eyes again, the pain that had been tearing through him was completely gone. He looked down in shock at his stomach, where the five gruesome holes had once been.
"Where… where's my wound? My injury—where did it go?!" he shouted, disbelief written all over his face.
He stared at the tall figure standing with his back to him, awe and confusion mixing together.
"Thank you—thank you! Your Excellency, great Blood God!" His voice trembled with gratitude, his entire being filled with the joy of surviving what should have been certain death.
"How will you thank me?"
"…What?"
The man blinked, momentarily stunned. His gaze shifted instinctively toward the source of the voice—Kyle, whose scarlet eyes were fixed on him with unsettling intensity.
"I saved your life, kid," Kyle said, the corners of his mouth curling upward as excitement flickered in his eyes.
"You… saved me?"
The man hesitated, confusion creeping into his expression. Something about this situation didn't line up with what he had expected.
"To be precise, the Master saved you," Kyle corrected with a chuckle. "He turned me into a vampire, and I turned you into one. That makes us part of the same bloodline."
"Vampire…?"
The word hung in the air as the man's mind struggled to process it.
At that moment, the warmth inside his body began to fade, replaced by a sharp, tingling sensation. His stomach growled violently, and an overwhelming hunger surged through him, primal and uncontrollable.
Locke slowly turned, his gaze settling on the man who was clearly undergoing a transformation.
What happens when my direct bloodline creates another?
That question had led him to this moment, allowing Kyle to perform the conversion.
"This feeling…" The man's pupils flashed crimson, and a look of satisfaction spread across his face. In the next instant, his body moved.
He leaped upward with startling agility, landing effortlessly on the beam above the factory. Then, without hesitation, he dropped back down, pouncing on the corpse lying on the ground.
The sound of flesh tearing and blood being consumed filled the air.
Kyle and Harley exchanged a brief glance.
"Looks like the bloodlust is stronger than ours," Kyle murmured, his tone carrying a hint of realization.
Locke watched silently, his expression darkening slightly. The man's behavior had become almost feral, more beast than human.
For a brief moment, a chilling image flashed through his mind—his bloodline spreading uncontrollably, one vampire creating another, until the entire city was overrun.
Gotham… filled with vampires.
"Stop."
The single word echoed like a command carved into reality itself.
The man froze instantly.
The overwhelming bloodlust that had consumed him vanished in an instant, as if it had never existed. His body trembled slightly, and a strange sense of reverence filled his mind.
It felt like he had just heard the voice of a god.
Interesting.
Locke's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the reaction.
My control over indirect bloodlines… might be even stronger than expected.
Kyle seemed to notice as well. His expression shifted, and he immediately shouted, "Keep feeding!"
The man didn't move.
He stood there, motionless, as if he hadn't heard a single word.
Kyle's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing through them.
That instinctive hierarchy—absolute, undeniable—settled something in Locke's mind.
Good. That means I hold complete authority over all of them. Even the ones further down the chain.
A quiet breath escaped him as the tension in his chest eased. The terrifying scenario that had briefly crossed his mind no longer felt as threatening.
"What… what's happening to me?" the man muttered, staring down at the blood covering his body. His hands trembled as he tried to wipe it away, but the more he wiped, the more it seemed to smear.
"Be grateful, kid," Kyle said sharply, his tone shifting as he straightened his posture. Without realizing it, he had already assumed a superior stance. "If it weren't for me, you'd be a cold corpse right now."
Between their differences in strength and speed, and the fact that the man was now his direct descendant, Kyle naturally placed himself above him.
Harley, on the other hand, paid none of it any attention.
Her gaze drifted back to Locke, her focus completely locked onto him. Now that the bloodlust had been suppressed, there was only one thing left in her mind—him.
....
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