?I leaned against the doorframe, the smoke from my cigarette curling around my sunglasses as I watched Jin calibrate his arrows. The air in the room was thick with a tension that only our kind could truly feel—a jagged, vibrating frequency of resentment and unspoken failure.

  ?“Hey,” I said, my voice low. “Do you know where Hana is?”

  ?The other team members were scattered around the base, going through their routines, yet the sudden absence of her loud, chaotic Signature was glaring.

  ?Jin didn't even look up. He just kept running a whetstone over the steel, the screech of metal on metal filling the silence.

  ?“At this point, you should know where she is, don't you?” he muttered, his ocean-blue eyes cold and focused on the blade.

  ?“Why did you let her go?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.

  ?“It was her decision,” Jin said, finally setting the blade down with a sharp clack. “I had no say in it. Besides, giving us the new kid was a mistake. He’s a liability that’s rotting this unit from the inside out.”

  ?I stayed silent, watching him. Jin was a Rank C+. He was strong, sure. But he was arrogant. He thought he understood the hierarchy. He thought he knew what B+ quality blood was capable of when it finally stopped trying to be human.

  ?“...”

  ?“So don't come crying to me about what's going to happen next, Vaughn,” Jin continued, his voice dripping with venom. “If Hana hadn't gone after him herself, I would have gone. People like Eun-Woo have no choice but to be stepping stones for others. That’s all a Newborn with high quality and zero spine is—fuel for the rest of us.”

  ?Stepping stones, I thought, a small, grim smile tugging at the corner of my mouth behind the veil of smoke.

  ?“Fuel, huh?” I murmured, pushing off the doorframe and crushing the cigarette under my boot. “Be careful, Jin. Sometimes the fuel burns the engine.”

  ***

  ?Pain.

  ?It wasn't the sharp sting of a cut. It was a searing, white-hot agony that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, originating from the jagged stump of my right wrist.

  ?But I didn't stop. I couldn't.

  ?Each of Hana's attacks was faster and more powerful than the last. While she couldn't compete with Vaughn in raw strength, her speed was suffocating.

  ?I swung my right arm.

  ?The hand was gone, lying in the dust five feet away. But my brain refused to accept it. I could still feel the phantom fingers clenching. And because I was a Weaver, my blood obeyed that phantom sensation.

  ?[Blood Art: Phantom Lash]

  ?The severed artery didn't just bleed; it sprayed. Driven by my will, the high-pressure jet of crimson Ichor extended from the stump like a whip of liquid fire.

  SWISH.

  ?The liquid lash sliced through the air, aiming for her eyes. Hana didn't panic. She tilted her head by a mere fraction, the pressurized blood whistling past her ear and cracking against the concrete behind her.

  ?"Messy," she taunted.

  ?She was playing with me. But I saw an opening.

  ?She launched a high roundhouse kick aimed at my temple. I dropped to my knees instinctively.

  ?CRACK.

  ?Her heel missed my head and slammed directly into the concrete pillar behind me. The force was so great that her foot punched through the outer layer of cement, burying itself inches deep into the structure.

  ?She's stuck!

  ?For a split second, she was anchored to the wall. This was it. My chance.

  ?I thrust my bleeding stump forward again, screaming as I tried to blast her with everything I had left.

  ?"Got you—!"

  ?"Do you?"

  ?Hana didn't try to pull her foot out. Instead, she smirked.

  ?Using her trapped leg as a pivot point—like a pole vaulter planting their pole—she twisted her hips with terrifying speed. She launched her entire body into the air, her left leg whipping around in a tight, lethal arc.

  ?It caught me square in the jaw.

  ?CRUNCH.

  ?The world turned upside down. My counter-attack sprayed uselessly into the ceiling as her heel disconnected my consciousness from gravity.

  ?BOOM.

  ?I slammed into the dusty floor, sliding ten feet before coming to a halt.

  ?“Heh,” I let out a jagged, bloody laugh. “I understand. I understand perfectly well... what a total loser you are!”

  ?Hana’s expression flickered, her eyebrows knitting together. “Huh?”

  ?“You’ve come this far by always devouring those inferior to you, haven't you?” I spat the words at her like venom, trying to inject every ounce of my contempt into them. “You have no talent of your own. No real power. Just the stolen scraps of people who were better than you!”

  ?“What?” Her aura flared, the pink "Signature" becoming jagged and chaotic.

  ?“Anyone watching this fight can tell,” I continued, my smirk widening despite the blood filling my mouth. “You aren't skilled. Your techniques are sloppy. You rely on sheer Rank because you’re too much of a scavenger to build your own strength. You’re just a parasite, Hana.”

  ?“What nonsense are you talking about?!” she shrieked, her fist clenching, the veins in her neck bulging.

  ?“A nonsense,” I whispered, my eyes locking onto hers, “that keeps you distracted from your back.”

  ?Panic flashed in her eyes. She whirled around, sensing the fluctuation in the Ichor. Behind her, the Crimson Shroud orb I had been subtly guiding and holding since the start of the exchange was hovering, ready to strike. It was the size of a human head, pulsing with every drop of B+ quality I had left.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ?“It’s over!”

  ?I fired the orb. The timing was perfect. She was mid-turn, her center of gravity shifted. There was no way she could move her entire body in time.

  ?But Hana didn't move her body.

  ?She moved her hand.

  ?In a blur of motion that my eyes couldn't even track, she swatted the orb away with the back of her palm as if it were a bothersome insect.

  ?SPLAT.

  ?The orb shattered against the floor, painting the concrete in a useless red mess. My best attack. My final gamble. Gone.

  ?“Stop with this bullshit already,” she said, her voice now dangerously calm. She turned back to me, and the anger was gone from her eyes. Only boredom remained. “With this slow pace, no matter what you do, you have no chance of hitting me.”

  ?Her foot connected with my ribs.

  ?CRACK.

  ?The force sent me rolling across the floor like a discarded doll. I tried to push myself up with my one remaining arm, but she was already on top of me.

  ?“What you’re doing,” she said, her hand coming down like a guillotine.

  ?Schlick.

  ?I fell forward, face-planting into the dust. I tried to move my left arm to catch myself, but nothing happened. I looked to the side. My left arm was lying on the ground, severed cleanly at the shoulder.

  ?“...is useless,” she continued.

  ?She stepped on my right knee.

  ?SNAP.

  ?The sound of bone snapping echoed like a gunshot. Before I could even scream, she grabbed my ankle and pulled.

  ?Wet tearing sounds. The sensation of being unmade.

  ?“...either this,” she muttered, tossing my right leg aside.

  ?She moved to the left.

  ?“...or that.”

  ?Riiip.

  ?A cold, clinical precision defined her movements as she removed my remaining leg.

  ?I lay there on the cold concrete. No arms. No legs. Just a torso and a head, bleeding out into the dirt.

  ?The pain was so immense that my brain simply refused to process it. The world went silent. I stared up at the skeletal steel beams of the construction site, watching the moon shine down on my wreckage.

  ?I was a hero? No.

  I was left as nothing but a torso, gasping on the cold concrete, my Ichor fountaining into the dust. I couldn't move. I couldn't fight. I was a broken doll in a summer dress’s playground.

  ?Hana knelt beside me, her face inches from mine. The blood I had splashed on her earlier had dried, cracking like old paint on her perfect skin. Her eyes reflected my own shattered, pathetic reflection.

  ?“Why don’t you understand, Kang Eun-Woo?” she whispered, her voice almost tender, like a mother scolding a child. “You’re a weakling. And in this world, it is the strong who determine the fate of the weak. It doesn't matter if you're human or vampire.”

  ?The cold concrete was my only companion. I stared at the ceiling through a red haze, my mind reeling. I had thought today was the beginning of my new life—the life of an immortal, a protector, a hero who could finally fulfill his dreams.

  ?But I was wrong.

  ?Looking at the severed remains of my limbs scattered around me, the truth was undeniable: B+ quality blood didn't change the fact that I was the problem. I was a weak, useless person trying to play a game I didn't understand.

  ?“You finally seem to get it...” Hana whispered, her voice a cruel caress as she stepped over my mangled torso. “That’s why you should let me take what you're wasting. This way, at least one of us can reach the heights.”

  ?Each of her footsteps echoed like a funeral bell. She was positioning herself. Getting ready to drain me dry. To Devour.

  ?“At least...” I wheezed, my voice barely a rattle, blood bubbling past my lips. “Let go... of Leo...”

  ?Hana paused. She looked down at me, blinking in genuine confusion. Then, she threw her head back and laughed.

  ?“Leo?”

  ?She let out a sharp, mocking cackle that bounced off the steel beams.

  ?“Huh... You really are an idiot. I never kidnapped that guy. I just swiped his phone while he was in the bathroom at the gym. He’s probably sitting in his dorm right now, eating pizza and playing video games.”

  ?The world didn't just tilt; it shattered.

  ?“What...?”

  ?“You really are a fool,” she said, baring her fangs as she crouched over my neck. “You fought for nothing. You sacrificed your arms and legs for a prank. You're dying for a lie.”

  ?I closed my eyes. The despair was absolute. It hurt more than the severed nerves. It hurt more than the shame.

  ?So this was it. This was where the "Hero" died—in a pile of dirt, over a stolen cell phone.

  ?The Shore of the Silent River

  ?When I opened my eyes again, the pain was gone.

  ?The smell of wet cement and iron was replaced by a heavy, floral scent—like spider lilies and old rain. The roar of the city was replaced by the sound of slowly moving water.

  ?I wasn't a nugget anymore. I was standing on the bank of a vast, obsidian river. The sky was an endless expanse of twilight, a bruised purple horizon that stretched forever. It felt as if time itself had decided to hold its breath.

  ?Is this the afterlife? Or is my dying brain just firing its last neurons?

  ?“If we let your story end here, it won't be very fun, right? 'Hero'.”

  ?The voice vibrated in my very soul. It was haughty, ancient, and impossibly beautiful. It was the same voice I had heard on the first day—the voice of the one who had remade me.

  ?I turned around.

  ?A figure stood before me, draped in shadows that seemed to pulse with a soft, silver light. I couldn't see their face, but I could feel their gaze—heavy, amused, and terrifying.

  ?They extended a hand toward me. It wasn't a hand of flesh, but one made of starlight and ancient intent.

  ?“You have crawled through the mud long enough,” the figure murmured. “Do you wish to crawl forever? Or do you wish to stand?”

  ?Without thinking, driven by a hunger I didn't understand, I reached out.

  ?The moment our fingers touched, a bolt of freezing, crystalline energy surged through me.

  ***

  Snap.

  ?I blinked, and the darkness of the river vanished.

  ?I wasn't lying on the ground. I was standing. My feet were planted firmly on the concrete. My right arm, which had been a limp, severed mess moments ago, was whole. My legs were solid.

  ?The pain was gone. In its place was a cold, humming vibration that started in my marrow and radiated outward. It felt like I had replaced my blood with liquid nitrogen.

  ?“What... what’s going on?” Hana stammered, stumbling back. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilating in pure terror.

  ?I looked at my hands. They weren't just healed; they were different. Beneath the skin of my forearms, my veins weren't pulsing with the familiar crimson. They were glowing with a sharp, electric blue light—the color of a star at its hottest point.

  ?“Kang Eun-Woo...” Hana’s voice trembled. Her predatory aura, once so suffocating, now felt like a flickering candle against a hurricane. “Just... who the hell are you?”

  ?I didn't answer. I didn't feel the need to. The anger, the fear, the desperation—it was all gone. Replaced by an icy clarity.

  ?I didn't see the construction site through human eyes anymore.

  ?[Progenitor's Vision: Active]

  ?I looked at Hana. I didn't see a monster. I saw the Ichor flowing inside her—not as a beautiful landscape, but as a series of flawed, tangled, and frantic threads. Compared to the purity of the blue power waking up inside me, her Rank C "strength" was nothing but a mess of amateur knots.

  ?“You’re noisy,” I whispered.

  ?[Blood Art: Azure Lash]

  ?I didn't need to bite my finger. I didn't need to bleed. I simply flicked my wrist.

  ?The air distorted. A pressurized beam of blue kinetic energy materialized from my pores and slashed through the space between us.

  ?It wasn't a clumsy whip. It was a sniper shot.

  ?I saw the fear in Hana’s eyes a split second before the attack passed her. She barely managed to roll out of the way, but the impact transformed the concrete pillar behind her into a cloud of fine grey dust.

  ?BOOM.

  ?“KANG EUN-WOO!” she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "I don't know what you are... but I won't lose to trash like you! NO! I CAN'T LOSE!"

  ?She lunged. Closing the distance for one last, suicidal attempt. Her target was clear: my heart. She was moving with everything her Rank C Augmentation could give her.

  ?But to my new eyes? She was moving through honey.

  ?I could see the tension in her shoulder before she threw the punch. I could see the blood pumping into her calf before she stepped.

  ?I stepped into her guard, catching her wrist in a grip of iron.

  ?"Got you."

  ?First Strike: My fist buried into her ribs.

  ?CRACK.

  ?She spat a fountain of blood, her body lifting off the ground, ready to fly backward from the impact.

  ?The Recall.

  ?Before physics could carry her away, I didn't let go. I tightened my grip on her wrist, and with a sharp tug, I yanked her back into my personal hell.

  ?Second Strike: A heavy hook to the jaw.

  ?THUD.

  ?Her head snapped back. She tried to stumble away, to fall, to escape. But I was the Weaver, and she was the fly caught in my web.

  ?Third Strike: A downward elbow smash into her collarbone.

  ?CRUNCH.

  ?She collapsed to her knees, her Signature flickering like a dying lightbulb. She was motionless, her eyes rolling back, her body broken.

  ?I slowly released her hand.

  ?At that moment, out of pure, mindless instinct—the last gasp of a dying predator—she tried one last strik e. A weak, trembling jab toward my chest.

  ?I didn't dodge. I didn't block.

  ?I simply stepped forward and delivered one final, silent punch.

  They wanted a weapon. They forged a monster.

  A Dark Progression Fantasy about family, betrayal, and the cost of power.

  What to Expect:

  ?? Ruthless Politics: Game of Thrones meets Progression Fantasy.

  ?? Smart & Calculating MC: Survival requires brains, not just brawn.

  ?? Zero to Hero (Hard Mode): No cheat systems, just pure grit and magic.

  ?? High-Stakes Combat: Swordplay and complex mana theories.

  ?? Dark Atmosphere: Not for the faint of heart.

  ? No Harem / No LitRPG (Pure Fantasy).