what if I'm an undead! then so what?-Chapter 27: Vow

"By your minute reaction, it's safe to assume you know about me," the voice said, sharp and deliberate, each word slicing through the heavy silence like a blade through cloth. "If that's the case, then it's better for both of us. Now, I'll answer your second question."

The figure, cloaked in an eerie, otherworldly presence, leaned forward slightly, the surrounding space trembling as if reality itself recoiled from his existence.

"Right now, you're inside the body of the little one. To be more precise, I created a space within his body thousands of years ago, utilizing memory, time, and space magic intertwined into a prison of my own making. I currently inhabit his body, though not by choice. It is my prison, not a vessel freely given."

The atmosphere thickened with each word he spoke, the walls around them fading into a mist-like haze as the weight of his truth pressed upon Mr. Isagi's mind.

"Don't fret," the figure added, his voice strangely soothing and ominous all at once. "I am aware you are close to the boy. Rest assured, I have no hand in the decisions he makes. I am merely... an observer, bound by shackles unseen but unbreakable."

The gravity of the situation settled deep in Mr. Isagi's bones, his heart pounding harder against his ribs. He dared not speak yet; the being before him was beyond anything he had encountered in all his years.

"Now for the reason I require your assistance," the being continued, the faintest hint of an ancient weariness slipping through his otherwise commanding tone. "You seem fairly knowledgeable, more so than most of your generation. And for a member of the human race, your strength is commendable—though, I question whether 'human' truly defines you anymore."

A pause followed, brief but suffocating, before he delivered the next blow:

"You possess it, don't you? A fragment, of course, not a true cell—a Zenexian Cell. Also known as the Fake God's Gift."

The statement struck Mr. Isagi harder than any weapon could. His breath hitched. This being knew. He knew. About the fragment buried deep within his body, about the secret even Mr. Isagi himself barely understood.

"You possess a fragment of a Zenexian Cell," the figure repeated, his gaze piercing into Mr. Isagi's very soul. "And I am sure you have noticed that there is a full, pure Zenexian Cell residing within the boy."

Mr. Isagi remained speechless, the realization crashing down upon him like a landslide. His mind reeled back to the moment he touched Masaru—the overwhelming sense of inferiority his own fragment had exhibited, cowering before Masaru's undeniable, complete power.

No wonder, he thought grimly. No wonder the energy within me shriveled before his touch.

"Why tell me all this?" Mr. Isagi finally managed to ask, his voice steady but deliberate, choosing his words like a man stepping across a minefield.

The being, who now revealed himself to be none other than Dracula, smiled—a smile devoid of warmth.

"I want you to look after the little one for me," Dracula said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "And also the one they call Akane. She is... important to me. Special."

The shadows around Dracula seemed to pulse with silent rage as he continued, "The boy must retain possession of the Zenexian Cell. Under no circumstance must he lose it, even if it costs you your life. And should you succeed... you will be handsomely rewarded."

With a sharp snap of his fingers, a golden apple materialized in the air, radiating an aura so pure, so potent, it was almost painful to look at.

Mr. Isagi instinctively reached out, catching the fruit in his palm. It was warm, almost humming with life. His entire being seemed drawn to it, as if every fiber of his soul recognized it for what it was.

"Why do I feel so... attracted to it?" Mr. Isagi thought, cradling the apple as one would cradle a newborn child. "The sheer energy it possesses... it's comparable to the power within me."

"It's been called many names since the dawn of time," Dracula said, his voice echoing with the authority of forgotten epochs. "The Forbidden Fruit. The Fruit of the Serpent. The Fruit of Eden. A replica, yet still a gift beyond comprehension."

He stepped closer, his crimson eyes locking with Mr. Isagi's. "Consume it, and the Zenexian Cell fragment within you will complete itself. You will ascend beyond your current limits. But understand this—this gift is not free. I expect results. Fail, and not even the gods will find a place for you to hide from me."

A shiver ran down Mr. Isagi's spine, but his resolve remained steadfast.

"If that's the case," he said, his voice filled with unshakable determination, "then I swear, I will protect Masaru with my life. I will guide him toward achieving unparalleled strength."

Dracula's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

"Then I shall look forward to the day when your vow is tested."

As soon as the words were spoken, Mr. Isagi's vision blurred. The world around him twisted violently, and in the next instant, he found himself back inside his restaurant.

He stood before Masaru, his hand still pressed against the boy's chest. How many seconds had passed? Minutes? Hours? Time seemed irrelevant now.

Slowly, carefully, he withdrew his hand, his fingers trembling slightly. Turning away, he struggled to compose himself, his mind racing to process everything that had just transpired.

"Is everything alright?" Masaru asked, his voice tinged with confusion. One moment Mr. Isagi's expression was serious, almost unreadable; the next, he seemed haunted, as if he had seen something beyond mortal comprehension.

"Everything's fine," Mr. Isagi replied quickly, forcing a smile. "For now, at least. When you have free time, come visit me... I have things I want to discuss. But for now, I'd like to be alone."

The hurried tone of his voice caught Masaru off guard, but he didn't press further.

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"Alright... have a good night then?" Masaru said, waving gently before exiting the restaurant into the cool embrace of the night.

Left alone, Mr. Isagi collapsed into a chair, burying his face into his palms, his hands still trembling slightly. The golden apple glowed faintly on the table—a constant reminder of the vow he had just taken.

---

The night air was crisp and cool, carrying with it a serenity that Masaru had never truly appreciated before. Perhaps it was because of his transformation, but now, the night felt natural, comforting, as if he belonged to it.

"So this is what it means to be a nocturnal being," he mused quietly.

Walking leisurely through the sleepy streets, he eventually reached the front gate of Akane's home. There, leaning casually against the fence, was a figure—arms crossed, posture relaxed, but with an undeniable aura of tension hanging around her.

Even from meters away, even in the near-total darkness, Masaru's enhanced senses recognized her immediately. It was Akane.

"Where have you been?" she asked as he approached, her voice low and serious. There was a flicker of something else in her tone too—concern, perhaps—but it was gone before he could grasp it.

"I went to visit someone I haven't seen in a while," Masaru replied, his voice even.

He noted the slight, almost imperceptible shift in her facial expression at his answer. A tightening of the jaw. A softening of the eyes. It was gone in an instant, but he saw it.

"I should actually be the one asking you that," he added, folding his arms. "You weren't there when I woke up."

Her expression hardened again. "It's none of your business," she snapped, her voice sharp and dismissive.

Before he could respond, her figure dissolved into a cloud of bats, the creatures fluttering into the night sky and vanishing.

Masaru stood there, stunned but fascinated.

When do I learn to do stuff like that? he wondered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a simple black card emblazoned with the silhouette of a wolf. The card felt heavier than it should, as if it carried a weight beyond the physical.

"I'll have to grow a little stronger before I pay them a visit," he muttered, thinking back to what had happened earlier that evening.

---

"Hey, what are you doing out here all alone at this time of night?" Masaru had asked the blue-haired boy, noticing the child's nervous fidgeting.

Before the boy could answer, another voice cut through the darkness.

"I'm afraid I am the one to blame for that," said the newcomer.

Masaru turned sharply, instincts kicking in, but relaxed slightly when he saw the figure—a woman cloaked in a flowing, white silk dress, a veil obscuring her face.

Behind her, another figure emerged from the shadows—a face half-familiar but markedly changed.

"It's been a while, newbie vampire," the figure teased, confirming Masaru's suspicions. It was Renji.

But he looked different now—stronger, sharper, more composed. His blue eyes gleamed under the moonlight, framed by slightly longer, wilder strands of hair which seemed to have turned blue.

"Big brother!" the blue-haired boy cried, rushing into Renji's waiting arms.

"You shouldn't have run off like that," Renji said, his voice a mix of relief and frustration. His gaze then darkened when he noticed the bullet holes marking the boy's clothes.

Turning to Masaru, Renji inclined his head.

"It seems I have you to thank for the safety of my clan member," the veiled woman said, her voice carrying a noble, commanding grace.

"It was nothing," Masaru replied, scratching the back of his head. "I just happened to be close by. I couldn't turn a blind eye."

"I highly doubt just anyone would have done the same," the woman said with a slight chuckle, extending a hand and offering him a card. "You seem to be a friend of Renji's. I hope you'll come visit us sometime."

Masaru accepted the card with both hands, feeling the strange weight of destiny settle upon him once again.

"You'd better get stronger first," Renji warned, a mischievous grin on his face. "I'm multiple times stronger than I was before."

"I could say the same," Masaru grinned back, recalling their old sparring marches at the Academy, where they had fought to near-standstills.

"Then I'll be awaiting your rematch with my disciple," the veiled woman said warmly.

A gust of cold wind swept through the area, swirling around the trio—and when it passed, the woman, Renji, and the boy were gone, leaving only the black card and the lingering promise of future battles behind.

Masaru clenched the card tighter.

I have a long way to go, he thought, his blood beginning to hum with excitement.

But I'll get there. I swear it.