Tonight's encounter was something the slick-haired youth could never have imagined.
He had simply led his kin out to search for a fallen meteorite, yet what awaited them was a massacre so surreal it felt like a nightmare.
The mighty Vampire Clan—reduced to helpless lambs?
Having lived for so many years, the slick-haired youth prided himself on his experience. But never had he encountered anything like this. He couldn't even understand how Herman had killed his people.
A noble vampire's supernatural ability? Impossible. He hadn't felt that distinct aura of dominance unique to the Noble Vampire Clan from this man. And he'd seen high vampires before—even those with noble titles weren't anywhere near this powerful.
For the first time, overwhelming dread welled up inside him. He had no idea how to respond.
For generations, vampires had stood at the top of Earth's food chain. Only the emergence of heavy weaponry in recent years had begun to threaten their immortal kind. Before that, humanity was nothing more than livestock to them. Once humans developed advanced weapons, vampires had been forced to restrain themselves. Their current poverty came from their inability to earn through normal means—only to rob and scavenge.
Originally, they had hoped to find a meteorite, sell it for a fortune, and live in luxury for a while. But now, looking at the scattered corpses of his kin, the slick-haired youth was consumed with regret.
His entire clan—wiped out.
"Your turn."
Herman had deliberately spared the slick-haired youth, unwilling to let this loudmouthed fool die as easily as the others. Letting him die instantly like the rest would have been far too merciful for such a noisy, insolent lowblood.
When Herman's cold eyes met his, the slick-haired youth's body trembled violently. That indifferent gaze struck him with pure terror.
Run now—or die.
The thought screamed through his mind.
"Monster! You're a monster! Damn it, what kind of monster are you?!" the youth shrieked, stumbling and flailing as he tried to flee, his voice breaking in panic.
A vampire calling someone else a monster—it would have been comical under any other circumstances.
In his frantic rush, he lost a shoe, tripped, and tumbled to the ground. Scrambling on hands and knees, he clawed desperately at the pavement, trying to get away from Herman.
It was useless.
"Think you can run?"
In the blink of an eye, Herman appeared directly in front of him. The vampire's face went pale as he froze in disbelief—he hadn't seen Herman move at all.
One moment, the path ahead was empty. The next, Herman was standing there.
The sudden appearance sent a fresh wave of terror through him. His entire body shook uncontrollably.
Even a vampire's enhanced vision couldn't track Herman's movement.
How fast was he? Faster than a bullet?
Fear consumed him. He regretted everything—what kind of creature had he provoked?
"Some actions come with a price."
Herman's tone was calm and quiet, yet to the slick-haired youth, every word was drenched in horror.
How could such a terrifying being exist on Earth? The vampire trembled violently, his thoughts spiraling out of control.
This speed—this power—it wasn't human. It surpassed even the vampire clan. Something like this shouldn't exist in New York.
What was this thing?
Then, a chilling thought flashed through his mind.
"You… you're that meteorite!!"
His pupils contracted sharply as a horrifying realization dawned.
New York had never harbored such a monstrous being before. The man before him had to be an outsider.
And thinking back to that blazing light in the sky earlier… the more he thought about it, the more certain he became. That flash of light hadn't been a meteorite falling to Earth at all.
That light—was him.
This terrifying, inhuman being standing before him was the meteorite itself.
An alien life form.
That's why he was so strong—so powerful that even a vampire felt paralyzed with fear.
"Hm?"
Herman raised a brow, mildly surprised. He hadn't expected the slick-haired man to stumble upon the truth by accident. Of course, the "alien" part was nothing more than the vampire's panicked imagination.
"Stranger" was closer to the truth. Herman quietly probed the man's surface thoughts, reading every fragment of the low-tier vampire's mind with ease.
"Correct answer, but... no reward."
Herman walked slowly toward the slick-haired youth, his words carrying a crushing weight of pressure.
Thud.
The slick-haired youth dropped to his knees instantly. "Spare me! Please, spare me! I'm willing to help you conquer Earth!"
Clearly, this one's imagination ran wild. It was probably influenced by the alien rumors popular during this era.
He actually thought Herman was an alien here to conquer the planet. Stories about extraterrestrials had flourished during World War II, even attracting the attention of vampires. It wasn't surprising—scientists of the time had greatly exaggerated their understanding of the universe, leading many to believe that numerous civilizations existed within the solar system itself.
"First, I have absolutely no interest in conquering Earth... and second..."
Herman stepped right up to him. From that close, the slick-haired youth could feel only one thing—pure, suffocating danger.
"No! I don't want to die!"
Kneeling in terror, the vampire tried to react, but his body froze. Panic flooded his face as he realized he couldn't move an inch. Some invisible force had bound him completely.
Herman's telekinesis had locked him in place. Even if this vampire had been a prince among his kind, he still wouldn't have been able to resist.
"I'm not in the habit of sparing enemies. Even if an ant dares raise its sword at me, my habit is to crush it."
Herman stood over the kneeling vampire, reached out, and gripped his head. The slick-haired youth's expression twisted into sheer horror.
He tried to scream, but Herman's telekinesis clamped his throat shut. The only sound he managed was a strangled, pathetic quacking noise.
"I actually gave you a chance to live."
As Herman spoke, he tightened his grip.
A sharp, wet crack echoed through the alley as he ripped the vampire's head clean off. Blood sprayed from the neck like a fountain.
Of course, not a single drop touched Herman.
Such an unremarkable, brutal death—yet far more agonizing than a simple headshot. Even a decapitated human could think for a few seconds after losing their head.
"Aaah—!"
The vampire's unnatural vitality kept the severed head alive for a short while. It screamed in torment, its twisted face still moving in Herman's hand.
"Noisy."
Expressionless, Herman tossed the head to the ground and brought his heel down hard.
Crunch.
A physical headshot. Simpler, more final than the last.
Wiping his hands with a tissue, Herman turned to leave the alley.
"Hm?"
He paused at the exit, glancing back. From within the heap of corpses, he sensed a flicker of life returning—one vampire's presence stirring again.
As a god who ruled over death, Herman was keenly attuned to the faintest signs of life and decay.
...
Huff, huff, huff...
The female vampire once called Mina by the slick-haired youth—the first to suggest taking Herman back to "enjoy" him—lay among the corpses of her companions, panting softly. Terror filled her heart, but she didn't dare make a sound.
The feeling of death was the worst thing she had ever experienced in her long existence.
She had no idea what kind of monster they had provoked, but she knew one thing: if she didn't pretend to be dead, there was no chance she would survive.
Tap, tap, tap...
Hearing footsteps approaching, Mina's heart leapt into her throat. Fear and panic overwhelmed her as she silently prayed—please, don't find me. Damn it! That monster killed everyone—why hasn't it left yet?
As the footsteps drew nearer, she didn't even dare to breathe. She froze completely, forcing her body to remain still.
Vampires could indeed stop breathing for short periods of time.
But that trick might fool ordinary humans—it could never deceive Herman. A god of death like him could easily tell the difference between life and death.
"Your body's a bit unusual," Herman said, stopping beside her. "You weren't killed like the others. Even a decapitation wound can heal?"
His voice carried mild surprise—and a mocking edge toward her futile attempt at playing dead.
Mina knew immediately that her fully healed head had given her away. She cursed inwardly. Why couldn't her new regeneration ability heal a little slower?
"Spare me! I didn't provoke you—it was all Curry's fault! Please, let me go! I'll do anything you want!"
Realizing she couldn't hide any longer, Mina scrambled up and began kowtowing desperately before him, her voice trembling with raw terror and the instinct to survive.
"Let's see how strong your healing really is."
Without hesitation, Herman used his telekinesis to twist her neck once again.
A sharp cracking sound echoed—his telekinetic force was so powerful that her head spun a full 360 degrees, the skin and flesh of her neck tearing open as blood poured down her chest.
Despite that gruesome wound, her recovery speed was astonishing—faster even than Wolverine's. Flesh rippled and knitted back together, bones snapped into place, and within seconds, her neck was as good as new.
Even among vampires known for their regeneration, such a level of healing was extraordinarily rare.
Perhaps even the most powerful purebloods couldn't match it.
Maybe not even destroying her heart would kill her.
...
Without hesitation, Herman reached forward and tore the heart straight from her chest.
Mina barely managed a shrill, broken scream before he crushed the still-beating organ in his hand, spraying a mist of blood through the air.
He had assumed that, just like when she had lost her head, her regeneration would allow her to recover instantly.
But this time, the unexpected happened.
The moment her heart was destroyed, the vampire—whose healing had just rivaled that of Wolverine—froze where she stood. Her body stiffened, lifeless, and toppled heavily to the ground.
The gaping hole in her chest didn't heal. The missing heart didn't return.
Clearly, the heart was her true weakness.
"She could heal after losing her head, but not after losing her heart... What kind of logic is that?" Herman murmured with faint disappointment.
He looked as though he'd just broken a toy, his expression dull and unimpressed. Curling his lip slightly, the divine flames in his eyes suddenly ignited.
The corpses scattered across the alley were consumed in his sacred fire. Even if any of them still clung to life or hidden abilities, they had no chance of rising again.
Once the scene was clean, Herman activated his [Instant Outfit Change] ability, swapping into a fresh set of casual clothes—a power left over from his former identity as a [Fashion Guru].
After straightening the edges of his shirt, he strode toward the alley's exit.
This era's New York was a tangled maze of streets and narrow alleys, all connected in a complex web.
With such an environment—and the state of the world as it was—public safety was poor at best.
Despite the commotion caused earlier with the vampires, not a single household had turned on a light or dared to look outside.
It said everything about the state of the city. Nighttime killings and gang skirmishes had become part of everyday life.
It wasn't that no one heard the chaos—it was that everyone who did chose not to get involved.
In New York, curiosity could get you killed.
Even now, long before the crises that would one day plague this city, its people already displayed a remarkable knack for survival.
Still, in a crowd that large, there would always be a few reckless souls.
As Herman stepped out of the alley, not yet reaching the main street, he spotted a short-haired young man cautiously peering around a corner.
"Sir, I thought I heard someone screaming over there?" the youth asked.
He was thin, frail, and barely tall enough to meet Herman's gaze.
He didn't look like a gang member, a junkie, or any of the trouble-seekers that haunted the city at night.
"Hm?"
Herman raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised.
He hadn't expected to meet this person here in New York—another familiar face.
Though one he had never encountered in the future timeline.