"Blood…"
Slowly, Don Quixote loosened his grip. His hand came free from the wall, and he opened his eyes, fixing his gaze upon Hai.
He noticed Hai's hand gripping a weapon, yet Hai didn't move. Instead, he watched Don Quixote calmly, as if patiently waiting for him to detach from the wall.
For a moment, Don Quixote was confused. But he didn't dwell on it. If the man before him was truly this arrogant, his first priority was obviously to get off this wall.
It had been so long since he entered hibernation—forced into sleep due to a shortage of "emotional energy"—that he had lost track of time completely.
And because of that, the moment Don Quixote awoke, the first thing he felt was an insatiable craving for blood.
A hunger for emotion, an infinite thirst that filled him with weakness…
Yet, despite this weakness, he was still the strongest Bloodfiend. Lowering his gaze to Hai, he leaped down from the wall.
The man standing before him… couldn't defeat him. Don Quixote was utterly certain of this instinct.
"Hah… The feeling of awakening is truly refreshing. It's a pity that the bloodthirst is hard to endure."
Don Quixote looked at Hai, who met his gaze calmly. A faint trace of curiosity emerged, prompting him to ask:
"Why… haven't you run away?"
"Hah." Hai chuckled lightly, flicking the spearhead with a finger. "If I left, wouldn't you immediately head to The City, turning residents into your thralls and draining blood?"
"The City isn't prepared for that kind of trouble yet. Thus, I accepted a commission from The City Head to stop you right here."
"…If I were you, I'd have attacked while I was still pinned to the wall, or better yet, while I was still hibernating. That would've been my weakest state, after all."
Hai shook his head. He couldn't exactly reveal the truth to Don Quixote—he would have gladly attacked earlier, but he doubted he could've even scratched the legendary Bloodfiend in his slumber.
And as for now, Hai had other reasons for waiting until this moment.
"You joke. According to the rules, fights should be fair and square."
"Whose rules? The City Head's?"
"No. The Fixers'. Allow me to introduce myself properly—I am Hai, President of the City's Hana Association, a Grade-1 Fixer."
"A Fixer…"
Don Quixote fell silent briefly, contemplating the unfamiliar title. But his thirst surged again, and he sighed, conjuring a spear of pure blood in his hand.
"Since you have given me your name, I shall reciprocate your adherence to etiquette and reveal my own."
"I, Quixote, bearing the noble surname Don! Hereby—"
"Issue a duel?"
Hai interrupted, stepping forward half a pace and pulling out his spear. Don Quixote's brow furrowed slightly.
"A duel…"
"It's a Fixer's rule. Enough talk—I already know your condition. Bloodthirst, right? It seems only one of us will leave this room today."
Hai glanced back at the reinforced door. He'd fortified this room repeatedly; now, he could only hope it would withstand the coming battle.
"Hmph. You Fixers and your endless rules… Come!"
Don Quixote thrust his blood-spear forward. Hai met it fearlessly, lunging ahead with a powerful strike—[Celestial Spear]—followed immediately by shifting into the defensive [Brace Up].
The blood-spear grazed Hai lightly, drawing a thin line of blood, which immediately gathered near Don Quixote. Hai frowned, spinning swiftly, delivering a precise [Unyielding Strike] to momentarily push back Don Quixote. But Don Quixote quickly countered, evading and lunging forward, sweeping his spear horizontally.
Hai exhaled deeply, crouched low, and gathered energy. He swung his spear in a wide arc—
—[Divinatory Impact]
Two powerful blows collided head-on. Both combatants retreated simultaneously, yet while Don Quixote merely took two steps back, Hai was forced all the way to the wall.
As expected, even weakened, I'm barely able to delay him, despite having Grade-1 strength…
Frustration briefly flickered through Hai's mind, but he quickly refocused and steadied his breathing.
It didn't matter.
All he needed now was to stall for time.
Without hesitation, Hai surged forward again, shifting stances seamlessly, and met Don Quixote head-on.
Blood-red shadows intertwined as the spears, black-white and crimson, clashed violently. Sweeping arcs of force battered the surroundings, and Hai grimly noticed that the walls were beginning to crack.
After hundreds of exchanges, Don Quixote clearly held the advantage. Yet, as long as Hai focused purely on defense, even the weakened Bloodfiend couldn't land a decisive blow.
But… that was merely delaying the inevitable.
After nearly six hours of ceaseless combat, Don Quixote spoke impatiently:
"If you keep fighting like this, how can you possibly win? Six hours of purely defensive combat… you're already at your limit."
"How do you plan to kill me?"
"You're right. But there's no surrendering according to the rules. As long as there's even the slightest chance, I must continue."
"…Another Fixer rule?"
Don Quixote sighed in annoyance, his eyes suddenly sharpening as he spotted an opening. His blood-spear instantly elongated, piercing Hai's main artery. Hai's eyes widened momentarily, then softened into a relieved smile.
Unseen by Don Quixote, an [Identity Card] faintly glowed in a distant corner, then quietly vanished…
"You win. Take this body and satisfy your thirst for now."
Hai gave a faint whistle. Just before consciousness faded from his eyes, he smiled one final time.
"But… wait here one day. Tomorrow, I'll return for our rematch. This duel isn't finished yet…"
Don Quixote stared incredulously. The man was dying—what nonsense was he babbling?
"Another Fixer rule?"
"Yes. Duels must be seen through to the very end."
"…Very well. I'll wait exactly one day."
Anyway, this body's blood and emotions would momentarily quench his thirst. Waiting a day wasn't too troublesome—after all, this man would be dead shortly and was likely talking nonsense.
How could a corpse come back tomorrow?
It was a pity he'd died so swiftly; there wasn't even a chance to turn him into a thrall.
Shaking his head dismissively, Don Quixote watched Hai's weapon vanish into thin air, leaving only a lifeless shell, eyes dull and empty.
Don Quixote shrugged at this bizarre spectacle, then set about feeding for the first time since awakening.
---
"Shit, hurry up! The [Identity Card's] back! Get another embryo ready at the factory, quickly!"
Elsewhere, Obsidian rushed frantically into the factory, tightly gripping the Hana Association Fixer's [Identity Card].
He was desperate.
He needed to quickly produce Hai #2, equip him with the [Identity Card], and send him off tomorrow to resume the duel with Don.
This is exactly why Hai became my latest overworked persona.
Worked himself to death? Not a problem—I'll resurrect him immediately and get him back to overtime!