The war raged on—an extension of the one that came before.
Street-side puddles reflected the faces of friend and foe alike.
At the very beginning, they showed only humanity's unstoppable advance: hundreds of armored vehicles and tanks roaring across the streets, crushing buildings beneath their treads.
One shell brought down a skyscraper. One shell wiped out the enemy.
The puddle by the curb held nothing more than the reflection of a half-blood vampire who hadn't escaped in time, thrown headfirst into the ground by the aftershock of an explosion.
But the good times didn't last.
Perhaps the resentment of the fallen half-blood vampire drew in its kin. Tens of thousands of half-blood vampire soldiers surged forward in a fierce counterattack, wielding all manner of unfamiliar and advanced weapons.
Under the silent witness of that same puddle, the half-blood vampires gradually revealed their fangs—fangs that could not drink blood.
They lacked the overwhelming strength of pureblood vampires, but their bite was still sharp. And with superior equipment, they could always tear a piece of flesh from human forces—so long as they were willing to pay the price.
Forced back again and again by explosions, defeated time after time in close combat, humanity slowly gave up the gains it had seized through ambushes. The front lines contracted, and the war slipped into a stalemate.
That stalemate lasted until Billy entered the front lines.
"Starlight—shine here!"
A slightly proud opening declaration rang out from somewhere unknown. In the next instant, hundreds of missiles streaked downward in a single overwhelming wave, flames and white smoke pouring from their tails.
In a flash, humans and half-blood vampires were forcibly separated. At the center of the battlefield, a vast empty zone appeared, buried beneath rolling clouds of dust.
When a sudden gust finally swept the dust away, people saw a head of white hair—and beneath it, a metallic face with a heavy, solid sheen.
"Everyone—charge forward under the light of Starlight!"
Billy roared. But the twin Gatling guns in his hands spoke far louder than any words.
Dada-dada-dada-dada!
The guns roared without pause, as if they never needed to reload. Shields, body armor—even tanks—
Every defensive measure crumbled before Billy's suppressive fire. Shields tore apart like paper. Tanks folded like stacked cardboard.
The only difference was whether they lasted half a second—or barely two. Either way, there wasn't even enough time to aim a shot back at Billy.
As for sneaking a rocket at him? With Billy's built-in military radar, ambushes were pure fantasy.
More often than not, the rocket hadn't even locked on before Billy detonated the launcher with a single shot—sending both weapon and operator sky-high.
"All units, push! It's our turn now!"
Billy shouted over his shoulder. The human soldiers behind him exchanged looks for a brief moment before snapping back to their senses, grabbing their weapons and rushing forward.
Why hesitate during a favorable fight? Who waits until the tide turns against them?
Just as Billy said—it was their turn.
But that illusion shattered quickly.
A pillar of violet light suddenly surged skyward from the sewers. Its radiance spread across the heavens, blotting out even the sun itself. At last, pureblood vampires stepped fully into the daylight.
In that moment, everyone understood—the earlier advantage had been nothing but a mirage, born of the vampire clan holding back their true strength.
Now, beneath the silent purple sky, overlapping wings cast a vast shadow over the land.
Only then did people truly understand what [Bloodthirsty Fangs] meant.
They finally grasped why vampires—despite weaker reproduction than humans by several orders of magnitude, despite being unable to appear in daylight—had preserved a civilization uniquely their own, never assimilated by humanity.
"Run! Run! I'll cover you!"
Under the ferocious onslaught of the pureblood vampires, human forces collapsed in retreat. In the span of a single exchange, thousands fell. Even someone as powerful as Billy could do nothing more than cover the withdrawal.
At least he didn't fear being bitten.
And at least he still had the firepower—one of the few capable of inflicting real damage on pureblood vampires with heavy weapons.
"We're pulling back! As long as we live, we'll still have power—and we'll still get to watch Starlight Knight tomorrow!"
Billy shouted as his twin machine guns spun to their absolute limit. From his external armor, six additional barrels extended, unleashing an unbroken roar of fire that forced even pureblood vampires to keep their distance.
But then Billy noticed something wrong.
The pureblood vampires who had been circling impatiently, waiting for his firepower to run dry, suddenly split to either side.
Clear, deliberate footsteps echoed—high heels striking asphalt.
Billy sensed danger. He gradually eased off the trigger and focused his gaze.
Misha approached calmly in her exoskeletal armor, a human corpse slung over her shoulder. Its throat had been torn open, blood pouring out like a fountain.
"You—"
[You're Billy, aren't you? A robot built from lost technology of the old era?]
Before Billy could finish, Misha cut him off, casually lifting two fingers to plug the wound in the corpse's throat.
Billy's gaze hardened, but he didn't answer. Misha nodded to herself and continued.
[Seems I was right. Whether you admit it or not doesn't matter. Killing you is a profit either way.]
Her voice rose sharply at the end. She stomped the ground, wings snapping open as they beat violently—and in an instant, she closed nearly fifty meters.
Billy's expression changed drastically. He raised both Gatling guns at once.
The barrels completed less than a single rotation before fully preheating, sparks flooding the area with light. The recoil alone dented the ground beneath him.
But Misha didn't slow down. She charged straight through the storm of bullets.
Two hundred meters out, she took a mouthful of blood. The wings riddled with holes regenerated instantly, restored to perfect condition.
"What the hell is this?!"
Billy was stunned. In his entire existence, he'd never encountered an opponent this absurd—regeneration this terrifying.
The six rear-mounted barrels extended in unison. Without even time to aim, they fired by instinct alone.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Shockwaves rolled outward as explosions tore through the ground, smoke and dust surging up and swallowing everything.
Did I get her?
Billy thought so—but his Gatling guns never stopped firing.
Then, suddenly, the dust cloud was forced apart.
Misha burst through, wings beating hard, a severed arm clenched between her teeth as she flew over the hail of bullets.
"What?!"
Billy's digital eyes widened on his display as the corpse in Misha's hands grew larger and larger in the reflection.
[Die!]
Misha roared, grabbing the corpse by its legs and smashing it down toward Billy's head.
Before Billy could recover, she reached into empty space and grasped—
A scythe materialized in her hand.
[You know what to do. I don't need to say it.]
Without looking back, Misha advanced step by step. One clean swing severed Billy's arm.
The remaining pureblood vampires exchanged glances—then rose into the air together.
The greatest obstacle was gone.
Afternoon tea could continue.
...
TOPS Headquarters, top-floor conference room.
Amid the ruins, Phaga shoved aside a massive slab of collapsed ceiling. Dust-covered, his footing unsteady, he staggered free.
The purple sky beyond felt unreal, like another world entirely. Phaga stood there for a long moment before dragging himself to the edge of the shattered structure.
He leaned out—and froze.
The battle was still raging. Under Misha's command, human forces were retreating in full.
Whether it was Yanagi or Ellen, everyone was covering the army's withdrawal.
"How could it… come to this?"
Phaga murmured, unable to accept the scene before him.
[There's nothing unbelievable about it, Creator. The vampire clan has prepared for this day for a very long time. The effort they invested far exceeds your imagination.]
At some point, Black had drifted to his side and sat down cross-legged.
"You're not joining the war?" Phaga turned and demanded.
Black lowered his head and shook it. [Misha alone is enough for the fighting. My task, from beginning to end, has always been to stop you, Creator.]
"You couldn't stop me before. And you still think you can now?"
[Before was before. Now I understand. I only need to find the Great Shark and keep chasing her. You'll come to stop me.]
"Damn it!"
Phaga cursed under his breath—uncertain whether he was furious at Black's calculation, or at his own bias.
After a while, he forced himself to calm down and let out a long sigh. "Completely cutting off sunlight's effects on pureblood vampires… the price must be enormous, right?"
[Yes. If it lasts too long, Misha will lose her life.]
Black lowered his gaze, eyes calm as water as he watched the world below.
[And this technology is still incomplete. Humanity attacked too quickly—we didn't have time for final adjustments.]
[The current [ Eternal Night Technology ] can't fully block the sun. It only reduces light intensity to a level pureblood vampires can endure.]
[But like a slow poison, sunlight still accumulates inside them. When they can't take it anymore, they'll explode—like overinflated balloons—bang.]
Phaga froze. Then he smashed his fist through the broken wall in front of him and roared:
"If everyone dies like this, what meaning is there in winning at all?!"
[As long as the pureblood vampires win, you'll inherit everything they've fought for—perfectly.]
Black suddenly stood, grabbing Phaga by the collar and shouting in his face:
[Even if they lose! The pureblood vampires will still wipe out most of humanity's forces. Once peace returns, Mrs. Meilin will still command a near-invincible half-blood vampire army!]
[All symbiotic half-blood vampires will be able to live with dignity!]
[That is the meaning of war!]
[Long live the vampire clan!]
Black threw his head back, crimson eyes bloodshot. [Unless, Creator… you've found a solution that satisfies everyone?]
"Maybe… I have."
For a moment, Black thought he'd misheard. He stared blankly into Phaga's eyes.
Steady. Pure. Without a trace of doubt.
Phaga brushed Black's hand aside, tugged at his tie, straightened it, and spoke with firm resolve:
"Even in the middle of war, the vampire clan will prioritize securing Hollow Zero."
"And if the Hollow crisis comes first…"
"I think they'll unite against a common enemy, won't they?"