by Yukitsu
Disclaimer: This is a fanfic. Go figure that one out. XD
Anyway, a word to the readers. o.o The old BoC actually had no solid plot -- I wrote as I went, so it was full of filler chapters and fanservice and the like. This is completely different from the old BoC, the first couple of chapters aside, so 'revision' is no longer an accurate term -- this is more like a revamp. There's an actual plot now, something still shaky but gradually improving nevertheless. I suppose it helps that BoC's really fun for me now too. There's Lynlyn to thank for that. XD
Chapter 2:
Face to face.
I mutter as I walk up the beaten path from the church to the city. Unlike the rest of Yorkshin's citizens, I don't appreciate the 'untouched' beauty that comes with it. There was a time when I did, I believe, until a vampire used the forest as his hideaway and tried to ambush me on the way to the city. Annoying thing developed an infatuation for me, which is not flattering at all given that vampires tend to lust after people's blood instead of anything else.
Never let it be said that I never hold a grudge.
Now the half a mile distance I have to walk through every time I need to go anywhere is just inconvenient. I'd borrow Leorio's bicycle but no. Just no. I must admit living in a church has its quirks, but unless I get any kind of transportation other than my own two legs, I don't think I'll be able to get to a victim before it gets killed. Then again, that's not my problem. Mine is to get rid of vampires, not coddle mankind. That's Leorio's job as a priest, and even then, humanity in general should learn that bad things tend to happen and they have to learn how to deal.
It's kind of fitting that my present base is a church, though. The savior of humanity this fraction of the continent living in a church. Great way to impress people, really. If everybody knew, they'd probably either laugh their selves silly at the irony, or think it's some sort of symbolical thing.
I mutter something under my breath about primitive ways of living and such as I near the quaint, little city I'm supposed to deliver to salvation.
"And yours will be?" the friendly bartender asks me politely as I sit down on the counter seat. Vaguely, I thank the heavens for the missing joke about my age that the usual workers crack when I go here. ("What will it be for the young patron? Coke? Milk?")
"Information, please," I say tartly, tucking my feet against each other and over the stool's foot bar. He seems to get what I mean because there's that glint in his eyes, but he doesn't miss a beat in his work as he polishes one glass after another with a pristine white rag. He's not giving in on me easily, and I'll admit to some slight surprise.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have that brand of drink here," he replies sweetly, already turning away to pluck another glass from behind him. I raise an eyebrow.
"Of course, information is really expensive, isn't it?" I finally add in, hoping that my voice sounds even just a bit promising. He pauses, and I wait for him to take the bait. He's new here – I've always gotten most of my investigation done in places like this, and most of the old-time bartenders know me enough to give in without unnecessary persuasion. They give me what I need, and I keep vampires from chewing on their customers as well as pay them for the service. It's more than a fair trade for them. I look for the other workers, but he's the only one around I can bother.
"Ah, yes... It is expensive. Let's see if we still have some more... Erm... what kind of information did you want, by the way?"
I study my informant as I inwardly sigh in relief that finally, finally something productive is happening. Cheerful, middle-aged, friendly enough... a bit bulky on the side, but still functional. I look back to the picture Leorio showed me earlier, and try to recount the more unique of my target's physical characteristics.
"A man's drink. Preferably the kind that black haired, deep-eyed men drink. The new one, if you have them," I say, riding along the man's ruse. It's not as if anybody will get him if he discloses what information he has, but coding protocol's coding protocol, and I hardly have a choice unless I want to pounce on the guy and show him my gnawers.
"New, dark-haired, deep-eyed man type? There are several of those here. I'm afraid that you'll have to make it more exact..." the bartender trails off and I quietly sigh as I think of anything specific yet general enough a category.
"Hmm. Do you have those that only come in during the night?" I ask, inwardly rolling my eyes. After all... a vamp is a vamp.
"Yes. But as before, there are quiet a few here that fit that description."
"Do you have the Lucifer type?" I press on. I may be on to something here, or I may be just wasting my time. Either way, I'd hate to leave here without results.
"Ah... the Lucifer type. I know of that. Quite new, if I may say so myself. Always comes during the nights..." the bartender starts on me, looking thoughtful. And then he gives me a pointed look. "Pay first, before you drink. That's the policy of this store, sir."
"Of course," I concede grudgingly. I pull the money out from my pocket – I don't have a wallet, since they're too bulky – and slap the bills on the table. There is enough to make his eyes grow wide, proving my earlier conclusion that he's a rookie. An old rookie. The bar must be desperate.
"Well, Lucifer is usually in most of the bars here. You can actually find it in the streets, if you look hard enough. The place where it can usually be found, however, would be the park or the forest. It seems to be very interested in the old church. Wanted to meet the slayer that lived there. Very polite and neat. Seemed like a very respectable and nice fellow. Quite for the gentleman, if I may add," he lists down as he gives me a shot of what I figure out is vodka.
I vaguely think of asking if the he knows that Lucifer's a vampire, and that calling him 'it' is perfect.
"I see. Thanks," I say as I leave, my shot glass untouched. Behind me, I hear the bartender and several of the patrons' talk, probably unaware that I have sharp hearing. I turn at the door, keeping on the darker part to watch their interaction. I'm mildly interested, so sue me.
"He looks familiar," the bartender says to himself as he pockets the money and returns to cleaning glasses.
"Hey! What did the blondie slayer want with you?" a patron asks him, raising his mug of beer in the air to call the bartender's attention.
"Slayer? You mean he's the slayer?" he echoes, looking dumfounded. He turns to look at the door, just when someone pushes past me to get in. Our eyes meet, and I'm sure the look of pure terror in his expression isn't just because of how the light made only half my face visible to him. His eyes bulge and he pales a shade lighter than his rag.
My smile widens, and I walk outside.
It doesn't take me too long too find him. A couple of hours at best, three at worst. The bad thing about Yorkshin is that there are a million and one places for a criminal to hide, and twice that for vampires. I can methodically hunt from sunset 'til sunrise and not see anything actually worth my time for three days straight. The good thing about vampires, though, is that they're predictable.
A good quarter of Yorkshin has been changed to a massive commercial area, whilst suburban residential subdivisions litter a quarter of it, and small chunks at the sides. While there are vampires who find it more exciting to hunt in extremely populated areas, most would rather not risk facing the elites who can afford actual silver bullets and annoying bodyguards. What's more, the larger part of the suburbs has a forest beside it (Great hideaway, the forest), and rich people have bad blood, anyway, or so a lucid vampire claimed once.
Usually, if I can't get any leads from the bars surrounding the suburbs, I check around my other information network before prodding on to commercial Yorkshin, where I transfer to the Guild's network there. I don't like the Guild's lackeys in the commercial areas of the city – they never know which is useful and which is useless. Hunting there doesn't happen too often, thankfully, and now is not one of those rare moments.
My target is seated on a park bench, position relaxed and languid. He looks… normal. Definitely not like the drooling bloodsuckers I'm usually up against. For a moment, I wonder if he really is a vampire, until I see the claws. They retract and extend several times as I watch from the bench a few meters behind him. We're alone, and I know he's aware I'm here. The problem with vampires is… you can never completely sneak up on them, and the dry, fallen leaves everywhere make it extremely difficult for me to even try. If I did, he would have attacked by now.
I know that's he thinking of me too – am I a possible prey, or a hunter? One point to the slayer for being young and deceptively harmless-looking.
"Such a nice night, don't you think?" he says, and I raise my eyebrow. Kuroro Lucifer is talking to himself while staring off at something far away. Idly, as I muse that he even sounds normal, I follow the direction of his vision. There's really nothing to see but the cross of my own base over the treetops some distance away. It's old and partially deformed, but it's shiny and glints at me anyway with the light from the big C that is the moon.
"What are you doing out here alone?" he asks as he turns his head slightly to look at me.
Hunting, I nearly answer, but instead, I rise from my seat and make my way to his.
"May I?" I ask, gesturing at the other end of his bench. He nods, and I nod in return as I smooth the ends of my trench coat and sit down. "You seem rather interested in the church," I comment as I turn to look at the cross again. It looks shinier.
"You could say I am," he answers, chuckling a little. "Don't you find it strange that it's placed right there, instead of the middle of the city?"
He is a strange one. Too human, too rational, too composed. Most vampires would have pounced on me by now, even before I got ten meters from them. "It's been there longer than Yorkshin."
"Ah, I see. That explains things. I'm Kuroro Lucifer, by the way. Please pardon the late introduction."
He turns to me, and stretches his hand for a shake. I take it, and give it a firm shake back before replying: "Kurapika."
Before he can let go of my hand, however, I am up on my feet and yanking him sideways where I had been seated. He stumbles, and I take the opportunity to slip the stake from my pocket and stab it through his chest. The stake hits the bench, and he hits the ground as he slides off its surface and uses my grip on his hand to pull himself upright, in turn making me lose my balance by a slight measure.
I am quick to pull myself together enough to let go and jump aside as his hand swipes at my face. Unfortunately, it gives him time to recompose himself. We eye each other, and I pull a short sword from inside my trench coat. My first attack failed – pity, I had the initial thought he would be easy to handle.
"A pleasure to meet you, slayer."
"Likewise, vampire," I say as I lower to a crouch and jump forward. I slice at him with my sword, or try to – his damn reflexes are too good for a normal vampire -- and push on with a flurry of attacks. I kick, I stab, I slice, and I slash around while he dodges everything I throw at him, and I wonder when he's going to attack. Vampire defense is low when they're attacking, as is most humans'.
The vampire steps backward as I thrust with my short sword, jumps to the right when I try to hit him with the stake, ducks when I follow it up with a slash with the sword, side steps to the right again when I do a roundhouse kick aimed for his face, and leaps completely out of my range when I throw the stake at him like a throwing dagger. He's not attacking, and I pull another stake out from my inner pocket while trying to figure out why he's so different during the momentary lull.
"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" he asks with a small smile. There is no hardness to his tone, and I wonder why I feel insulted. I don't know what to make of him. My predictions have gone down the drain. The only thing for me to do is to stay on the safe side -- I stand my ground and wait for him to attack.
Instead he… smiles at me some more and turns around.
"While I truly enjoyed meeting you, slayer, I have somewhere else to be. Perhaps we can finish this another time."
I blink, taken aback. Before I can do anything, however, he's already disappeared into the night.
What the bloody hell was that? What was that vamp trying to say? I'm not some weak human incapable of slaying! Some interest in the slayer, that was, disappearing just when we were starting.
I agitatedly stand my ground, paranoia kicking in full as my hackles rise. The bastard may be tricking me. It takes me a few tries, but I get my breathing down to normal and my temper dragged to a simmer.
He's too strong to be a normal vampire, though too weak to be a vampire lord. Kuroro Lucifer is a freak, and though I'm not too sure of what steps to take to beat him, I know I'm still a match if I give it my whole effort.
When I'm certain that he's not in the area anymore, I finally return my weapons to their places and wonder what to do next. I can track him down, but the earlier fight may just repeat itself, and then what? I make my way back to the park entrance and start walking to the church.
Leorio has a lot of explaining to do.
"Leorio," I snap as I forcefully open the door. He blinks up at me even as I hear the door slam with a loud crash against the wall behind me. He sort of looks me over the bible he had been studying, then, apparently finding nothing to worry about, goes back to scribbling stuff on the piece of parchment. I'm guessing that he's planning out his homily for Sunday.
"Tell me everything you know about Kuroro Lucifer," I say as I set my hand down on his table. I try to loom over him, I really do, but I'm a bit on the short side and even while sitting down, Leorio's obviously not impressed. The guy knows me too well.
"He pissed you off?" he asks with a drawl, and I scowl right back.
"Very perceptive. Talk."
"He did piss you off. Pretty badly too. What did he do? Run off on you?" I glare at him, and he looks me in the eyes evenly. I hate him sometimes. He's smart, too smart, and rightfully so. Leorio won't be one of the Guild's Apostles otherwise, and with what I know, he's been in the business since he was a kid. Still, I wish he'd learn when to cooperate sometimes.
"Just tell me what I need to know, Leorio."
"All right, all right. You should know by now that he's not like any ordinary vamp," he says as he ticks off a finger. I bite back the urge to confirm it with a menacing glare.
"Yeah, I do," is about everything I can say to that, though, and I wait for him to continue.
"He had been converted by his father, around three months ago if the records are correct."
I file the information away to the back of my brain, even if I know it's borderline trivial. "He's green."
Leorio sort of rolls his eyes at my statement, but continues anyway. "I already said he's from Meteor City—"
"He is?" I don't think I caught that part when he was telling me about it. My bad. Leorio gives me this look again, the one I've come to associate with "when will you grow up?" and "there you go again." I just raise an eyebrow at him and say: "Isn't Meteor City vamp free?"
"It was, and it still is now that Kuroro and his companions have moved here. When the elder—"
"His companions? " I interrupt, and I feel my eyebrows climb to my hairline. He glares at me for interrupting, and I shake my head and gesture for him to continue.
"When the elder Lucifer was converted, he went on a rampage and starting transforming every person he met. Either that, or he ate them. Unfortunately, the first person he came across was his own son. Kuroro was the first victim."
"How many are there?"
"Thirteen, including Kuroro."
Well, damn. And they're all in my city. I start pacing around Leorio's office, already trying to think of what to do. Kuroro, I can probably take on my own, but thirteen extremely weird vampires is another matter entirely.
"Can the Trinity send us help?" I ask vaguely. The Trinity is this group of three really old people who run the Guild. Everyone trusts them, though I don't. Names like Benevolence, Bequest, and Benign tend to be misleading. What's more, they're the ones who put me here.
Leorio shakes his head and shrugs. "There's been an infestation in another city. They need all the extra slayers they can get."
"Gee, great," I mutter. What do they call what's happening in Yorkshin now? A mild influx? Thirteen isn't exactly the number of newbies we get per day. Not even a week, if I think about it.
"Let me finish, all right? You haven't heard all of it, and this will interest you. Or horrify you. Whichever."
"Try me."
"The Lucifer family is known for their wards against vampires. If you're a vamp, and you touch them, you die. Or you experience excruciating pain – depends on your caliber." I open my mouth to interrupt him again, but he raises his hand and I keep my silence. "We're not certain if it was a side effect of who had bitten him or because of the ward, but the late Lucifer was a Bitten half-breed. Everyone he converted retained their humanity, like he did."
"Retained their humanity?" I echo, freezing on the spot. There's this cold feeling creeping up my spine as I process what had been said. "Leorio," I say slowly, "There're only two half-breeds in the records, and they're both Born half-breeds. You know that."
"Of course I do," he snaps, "I was just as surprised as you are. But… Bitten half-breeds convert humans into fellow Bitten half-breeds, as Pure convert into Pure. There are fourteen more names in the roster for the Bitten."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Kurapika." He pauses and meets my eyes in firmly. "The vampire lord Wing was the one who converted the late Lucifer."
I'm reeling, I know I am. I feel like I've been punched twice on either temple, and gutted with my own stake. Wing, of all vamps. Vampire lords convert to Bitten half-breeds, and Bitten half-breeds convert to other Bitten half-breeds. If I had traced it back, I should have seen it coming – the late Lucifer had been a Bitten half-breed, and Wing is the only vampire lord currently in existence, the only one powerful enough to break through several generations' worth of wards. I should know -- Wing had his fangs sunk on my neck before my slaying abilities triggered itself awake and I managed to fend him off. I'm sure he still doesn't realize how I didn't get converted like he expected, at least not in the way he had been expecting. I'm not a Bitten half-breed, and I'm thankful for that.
"The late Lucifer is dead," Leorio finally speaks up after a very long pause, "Kuroro and his companions banded together and overthrew him. They call their selves the Geneiryodan. Fortunately, they haven't converted anyone yet, or at least that's what the Trinity's records say."
And they refuse to lend me assistance. What is this, a test of some kind? Those from the Trinity are selling the city to the Geneiryodan! I think my punishment for accidentally mauling a member of the Triad can wait another mission. Right now, there are thirteen Bitten half-breed, Wing descendants running around, and they won't send assistance over? What's an infestation compared to Wing's descendants?
"Kurapika? Are you all right?"
I quell down my rising hysteria and manage to meet his gaze evenly. "Great."
8:48 PM 6/12/2005