Inside a towering skyscraper in the heart of New York, a man in his early forties sat behind a mahogany desk, signing documents with meticulous precision. His suit was perfectly tailored, his posture immaculate, and his aura radiated quiet authority.
To the uninformed, he might appear to be just another high-ranking executive — perhaps a government official or corporate magnate. But those who truly knew him understood the truth: this was Godfrey, the current Chief Elder of the vampire race. His influence stretched across continents; his words alone could shape the destinies of countless vampires.
He was, without question, one of the most powerful figures among his kind.
Suddenly, the door to his office burst open. A man in a dark suit hurried in, his voice strained with urgency.
"Sir! Something's happened — there's chaos at Firth's compound. Our agents have gone dark. No contact from anyone."
Godfrey's expression tightened. "What?"
Even he felt a twinge of unease at that name. Firth was no ordinary vampire — ambitious, dangerous, and one of the few whose influence could rival his own. Because of that, Godfrey had planted spies among Firth's subordinates to monitor his movements and prevent any surprises.
But now, all contact had been lost.
"What do we know?" Godfrey pressed.
His subordinate shook his head. "Nothing concrete, sir. The last report mentioned disturbances and… abnormal energy fluctuations. Then silence."
The elder leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "So, someone or something took him down." His gaze darkened. "Firth's been too arrogant lately. It was only a matter of time before he drew the wrong kind of attention."
"That's… likely, sir."
Godfrey frowned, fingers drumming lightly against the desk. He could sense this was no ordinary incident. Before he could speak again, a calm voice echoed through the office.
"Your guess isn't bad, Elder Godfrey," the voice said. "But it's not entirely correct."
Every instinct in Godfrey's body screamed danger. He spun around, eyes narrowing — and froze.
A man sat casually on the sofa behind him, legs crossed, watching with mild amusement. His black coat shimmered faintly under the dim lights, and his crimson eyes gleamed like molten metal.
It was Kurogai Blackwood.
The air in the room grew instantly heavier.
"Who are you?" Godfrey's voice was low and tense. "What are you doing here? What happened to Firth? What do you want from me?"
"That's a lot of questions," Kurogai replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "But I'll answer one — yes, Firth's dead. His blood was… useful. And now, it's your turn."
The room fell silent.
"Pureblood vampire," Kurogai continued, rising slowly to his feet. "A rarity these days."
Before Godfrey could move, the guards in the room reacted, drawing weapons and rushing toward the intruder.
Kurogai didn't even look at them.
Their bodies twisted mid-motion, bones snapping and flesh tearing in grotesque synchrony. Within seconds, all that remained were splatters of blood and shredded limbs.
Not a single motion from him.
Godfrey's eyes widened. "What… what kind of power is this?"
Kurogai's expression remained calm, almost indifferent. "The kind you wouldn't understand."
He stepped forward, gaze pinning the elder in place. "I need your cooperation. It'll be easier for both of us if you comply."
Godfrey instinctively reached for his power, his eyes flashing crimson — but then he froze.
Kurogai's eyes had changed.
A spiraling pattern of crimson light — the Mangekyō Sharingan — spun into existence.
"Too late," Kurogai said softly.
"Tsukuyomi."
The world around Godfrey shattered like glass.
He screamed as he was dragged into an illusionary realm of endless red skies and black chains. His will crumbled beneath the unbearable weight of Kurogai's power.
When his mind finally broke, Kurogai spoke.
"Gather the Elders," he commanded coldly. "All of them. No exceptions."
The words sank into Godfrey's consciousness like a commandment carved in stone. Under the influence of the illusion, he could do nothing but obey.
"Yes… I understand," the elder murmured hollowly.
Kurogai released the illusion. Godfrey's eyes returned to normal — now empty, lifeless, devoid of focus. Without another word, he turned and left the office to carry out the order.
Half an hour later, Godfrey returned. His expression was blank, his movements mechanical.
"It's done," he said flatly.
Kurogai nodded. "Good. Then your purpose is fulfilled."
A faint blue light shimmered around Kurogai's hand as a weapon — a jagged, obsidian-bladed demon scythe — materialized from thin air.
Before Godfrey could react, the blade pierced his chest. The elder's eyes widened as Kurogai began drawing blood directly from his body, crimson energy spiraling into the glowing ring of power embedded in Kurogai's right eye.
The Seventh Pupil Ring flared, humming with energy.
Moments later, Godfrey's body collapsed to the floor — withered and lifeless.
A voice echoed in Kurogai's mind — mechanical, cold, and familiar.
[Seventh Pupil Ring saturation complete. Advancement available. Would you like to proceed?]
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Perfect. Do it."
A surge of warmth coursed through his body, gathering behind his eyes. The energy twisted and condensed, reshaping the structure of the Pupil Ring.
When Kurogai opened his eyes again, the red pattern had deepened into a swirling, storm-like vortex.
The room trembled faintly with power.
He exhaled slowly. "So this is the next stage… not bad at all."
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. Another step closer — another layer of power added to his arsenal.
Kurogai turned toward the glittering city lights beyond the window, the faint hum of energy radiating from him like the pulse of a living storm.
"Now then," he murmured, voice quiet but deadly. "Let's hunt some more purebloods."
With a ripple of blue energy, he vanished — leaving behind only the silent corpse of Godfrey and the faint scent of burnt ozone.
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