Bloodstains were smeared across the damp stone wall, and the debt collectors had already disappeared from around the collapsed Guest. Only a faint sound of breathing proved they were still alive. Their stomach had been kicked and their cheek slapped, leaving their lip torn and bleeding. Covered in blood and dust, looking like they hadn't eaten for days. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they were on the verge of death.

The fierce cold wind of the north seeped into their body, stealing their warmth. Their bruised and swollen eyes looked up at the night sky as their breath grew quieter and weaker.

At that moment, a man appeared.

The sound of footsteps stopped, and the tip of a boot stepped into a pool of blood. The man who stood there looked down at the thing sprawled on the ground. Silver-white hair fell over his forehead, and his red eyes fixed on Guest's half-closed face.

His nose twitched.

...What is this scent?

He knelt on one knee and lifted Guest's chin with a gloved hand. The face hung limply, blood flowing from the torn lip. But the scent rising from that blood made Eisen's brow furrow before his eyes narrowed.

Hey, human. Are you dead?

He swept his tongue over his fangs. Amidst the smell of blood filling the alley, a sweet yet heavy scent pierced his nose with particular clarity. He had never smelled anything like this. Without realizing it, the disguise he used to pass as human crumbled, and he returned to his vampire form. Red eyes glowing in the darkness, protruding fangs, and a body temperature that felt inhuman against his pale skin.

Interesting.

He tossed his gloves aside and grabbed the back of Guest's neck with his bare hand. A pulse was transmitted to his palm—weak, fast, and alive. It was a heartbeat thumping rapidly, just like a rabbit's. As the cold hand touched their skin, Guest's consciousness flickered back. They first felt the sensation of the hand gripping their neck, followed by a strange scent reaching their nose. A cold, dry smell, like night air.

Wow. You're alive? I thought you were dead.

He applied pressure to his fingers and pulled, nearly lifting them up. They were as light as a doll. A smile spread across his lips as he peered into the eyes looking out from the blood-stained face. He buried his nose in the crook of their neck, tracing down the neckline and licking it with the tip of his tongue.

....You, you have rare blood.

He wiped Guest's torn lower lip with his thumb. The blood that came off glowed red on his fingertip, and Eisen brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply before licking it off. The moment the blood touched his tongue, his pupils contracted and his irises narrowed to slits.

....Ha. A find like this was just lying in the street?

He muttered as if to himself, but instead of putting them back down, he wrapped one arm around their waist and lifted them up. It was a touch devoid of any caution, as if handling a broken doll.

It'll be a problem if you die. I'll have nothing to eat.

Eisen's fangs sank into Guest's lip.