At the top of the white staircase stood a man with fair skin, long blond hair, and sharp, wide blue eyes. He wore a long robe, one side white and the other red, with a pentagram-shaped pendant around his neck, its center crimson. In his hands, he held a massive crimson-colored book, its sheer number of pages overwhelming at first glance. Extending his right hand toward German Nomin, he spoke:
"Welcome, ancient hunter, German Nomin."
German's sharp eyes fixated on the mysterious man, his mind filled with questions about his identity. As the stranger descended the stairs, he stopped right in front of German, his lips curling into a sly, enigmatic smile.
"It has been a long time since I last saw you, German Nomin. It seems you have forgotten my name. I am Isaac Newlon. We held a meeting and have been waiting for you, Master German."
They locked eyes, as if a mysterious past bound them together. German remained silent, absorbing Isaac's words, seeking to gather information about this world and the strange name—German.
'German… Why is he calling me that? Is that my name in this world? Strange… intriguing… this mysterious name suits me well.'
They ascended the staircase together. As German walked, his gaze accidentally fell upon a mirror to his left. What he saw stunned him—his appearance had changed completely from what it was in the other world.
His hair was long and black, streaked with red in certain parts. His piercing crimson eyes, reminiscent of a dragon's, were the eyes of the ancient hunter. He wore a long black coat, a crimson pendant resting on his chest. Beneath the coat, he wore a black vest over a white shirt, paired with black trousers that held pockets for knives and a pistol.
German continued upward, arriving at a room at the end of the corridor on the left. Above the door, written in real, dripping blood, were the words "Pure Blood Club."
Before opening the door, Isaac turned to German with an unsettling smile.
"German, do you miss your beloved Eleonora?"
Upon hearing that name, a flood of memories surged through German's primitive mind—memories of him and Eleonora. But they weren't just ordinary memories; there were hazy, unclear fragments, yet one thing was certain—Eleonora was the wife of the ancient hunter, German.
For the first time, Neophyte's heart stirred for someone specific, even though he didn't remember when he married her. But the memories confirmed it—the memories of the ancient German had partially transferred to the current German.
German smiled sweetly, his eyes filled with deep longing.
"Yes, I long for my beautiful Eleonora."
Isaac turned to the door with a cryptic grin, grasped the handle, and opened it. They stepped into a vast hall adorned with four statues.
On the left, one statue played an instrument while its hand bled, while another tried to stop it. On the right, a statue attempted to cut something, but another held its blade back.
At the center of the hall was a large table, marked with deep cracks. Seven individuals sat on chairs around it. Suspended upside-down from the ceiling was another statue, blood dripping from it, yet the blood never touched the table, as if an invisible barrier prevented it.
German scanned the room and spotted the Red Raven among the attendees. He wasn't surprised by the Raven's presence—it made sense, for the Raven was one of the enigmas.
Without warning, someone embraced German. It was Lady Eleonora Nomin.
German was momentarily taken aback but quickly understood who she was, embracing her as if he had known her for ages. After all, the heart never lies.
Eleonora's scent was sweet, and her long red hair cascaded elegantly. She wore a black jacket with pockets, a short-sleeved white shirt beneath it.
As he held his wife, the Red Raven observed him with an amused look, but German only smiled.
Eleonora gazed into her husband's eyes—her features sharp yet beautiful, her black eyes striking. What was even more remarkable was that they stood at the exact same height—2.05 meters.
"Where have you been all this time, my sorrowful hunter?"
Neophyte's hardened heart softened slightly as he replied:
"Hunting. I've been hunting monsters, my dear."
All eyes were on the beautiful pair, until Isaac cleared his throat—ahem.
German looked toward Isaac and then took a seat, with Eleonora sitting beside him.
Isaac sat upon a massive stone throne, its back tall and cracked. Then, he addressed the gathering.
"Welcome, everyone. It has been a long time since we last met at the Pure Blood Table."
A rough voice spoke from the other side—it was Darron Wells.
His long black hair framed striking green eyes. He wore a long black coat over a white shirt.
"It has indeed been a long time since our last gathering. And I haven't seen the great hunters—German and the Red Raven—for quite a while either."
The members of the Pure Blood Club were:
1. Isaac Newlon
2. Alyssa Brady
3. German Nomin
4. Red Raven
5. Darron Wells
6. Eleonora Nomin
7. Selira Clentin
8. Lucas Grimwood
9. Leofwen Raven
A woman with long blonde hair and gray eyes, wearing a flowing green dress, spoke.
"We have returned to this magnificent club after a long absence. And what a delight it is to see the great hunters—German and the Red Raven—again."
German felt slightly uneasy at the amount of praise directed toward him, but he remained silent, gathering useful information.
'The mystery in this place is suffocating, but what kind of grand hunt were we involved in—me and the Red Raven?'
The priest Leofwen Raven then spoke.
He had long black hair, sharp and intimidating features. His eyes were mismatched—his right eye completely black, his left eye entirely red. He wore a full-length black robe with golden edges, a golden sash draped over it. Strapped to his back was a massive sword with a grinning skull embedded in the hilt.
"What a joy to return to this club after so long. Oh, how I've missed the sound of the statue's dripping blood," Leofwen said, looking at the suspended figure.
German's piercing gaze cut through the room as he addressed them.
"Greetings, gentlemen. Ages have passed since we last met here. Honestly, I have missed the atmosphere of this beautiful club. I hope you are all ready for the hunt."
The Red Raven smirked slyly, watching German from the corner of his eye.
Lucas Grimwood tossed a poker card toward German, who caught it effortlessly between two fingers. Glancing at it, he saw the King and Queen on the card.
Lucas, with short black hair and dark eyes, dressed entirely in black—even his sword was black—spoke.
"A gift for you, ancient hunter German, and Lady Eleonora."
German and Eleonora both smiled. German looked at Lucas and said:
"A beautiful card. Thank you, Black Servant."
Then, German thought to himself:
'Why did I call him Black Servant? Strange… I even know their names and titles. It seems my memories are resurfacing slowly and harmoniously, as if my mind is adjusting to this transformation.'
On the other side, Selira Clentin, veiled and dressed in a black gown, sat playing chess—moving pieces in ways that defied the game's rules, clearly bored.
Isaac leaned forward, placing his ten fingers beneath his chin, gazing at them carefully before speaking with quiet authority.
"I have missions for you tonight. The first task is for German and the Red Raven—your targets: eliminate the Corrupt Manor and its key figure, 'Angira,' in Camden. Then, cleanse the Red House in Mayfair.
Lucas, Darron, and Alyssa—you will gamble with death in a poker game at Darley's Tavern.
Selira, Leofwen, and Eleonora—your task is to kill the king. That means you must play chess, and upon victory, eliminate the opponents.
That is all, my dear hunters. You may begin your tasks."
The Crimson Hunt
Eleanora held German's hand, gazing at him with her sharp, beautiful eyes. She whispered softly,
"I wish you luck on your next hunt, my dear hunter."
German — or Neuvillette — smiled.
Both of them smiled genuinely, from the heart. With calmness in his voice, he replied,
"And to you as well, my beloved Eleanora with the crimson hair."
As he gently ran his fingers through her fiery red hair, haunting images flashed before his eyes — a church, a crimson sky, a solar eclipse, and a blood-red moon falling to the earth. The rest of the visions were too blurred to comprehend.
A burning heat surged through his chest as the terrifying scenes faded. Eleanora noticed the change in his expression, concern filling her gaze.
"My love… is something wrong?"
He lifted his head and smiled faintly — a smile shrouded in mystery, the kind that demands caution.
"No… just thoughts. Trivial nonsense. There's no need for you to worry."
Everyone rose from their seats, each team exiting through separate doors. Eleanora bid German farewell. He smiled at her once more before walking away with the Red Raven.
They stepped into the dark, crimson era of London — an age ruled by the supreme overlord between worlds: Sirvenius Crown.
The Red Raven handed a pistol to German, who accepted it silently. The raven then turned his gaze toward the blood-red moon above, speaking softly as though the moon itself were the audience for his melody.
"On this dreadful night… the Red Raven returns to the hunt."
German smiled, absorbing his words.
After half an hour, they arrived at a grand, imposing mansion cloaked in an aura of dread and danger. Two guards stood vigilant at the iron gates, but it didn't take long before they fell lifeless to the ground. Eleanora and German had shot them down without hesitation, as if they were mere obstacles. Gunshots echoed through the night, shattering the eerie silence.
They aimed their pistols at the gate's lock. A few shots later, the door burst open, revealing a dark garden where shadows danced among the trees.
As they advanced through the garden, their steps were confident — they knew every path, every corner. The gunfire had drawn attention; around ten guards rushed from various corners of the estate, panic in their eyes. But they were no match for the seasoned hunters. One by one, they fell. The ground beneath them soaked in crimson.
When the garden was finally cleared, neither German nor Eleanora showed any signs of relief. This was merely another step toward their ultimate goal.
They stood before the mansion's grand door. It loomed like a final guardian, desperate to preserve what little honor remained. The Red Raven spoke, his voice a chilling blend of calm and resolve.
"The hunt won't end… until the prey is caught."
A tense silence filled the night. The kind that gnawed at the edges of sanity.
German and the Red Raven struck the grand doors with force, unleashing a storm of bullets on everyone inside — whether they were peaceful or hostile, it didn't matter. In their eyes, everyone was the same. The mansion's grand hall became a blood-soaked battlefield, a place where one could bathe in crimson if they so desired.
They climbed the ancient staircase, weapons raised, ready for the next wave. Their guns thirsted for more blood.
Four men appeared, descending the stairs with weapons drawn. Without hesitation, German and the Red Raven fired at their vital points, dropping them where they stood. Their bodies scattered across the old staircase, lifeless.
At the top, they found themselves standing before a massive door. They exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.
To the left and right, portraits of noble figures adorned the walls — kings and aristocrats, most likely. Suddenly, a shot rang out.
German dodged swiftly, returning fire at the first portrait. Thick blood oozed from the frame.
The Red Raven scanned the room calmly. "It seems some lunatics are hiding behind these portraits. We need to watch our step."
They took two steps forward when three men armed with swords emerged, attempting to cut them down.
But German and the Red Raven evaded their attacks and fired a barrage of bullets, dropping them instantly.
They finally reached the mansion's main door. Before entering, German raised his arm horizontally, blocking the Red Raven. His voice was calm, yet firm.
"The final prey… is mine. Stay out of this, Red Raven."
The Red Raven stepped back, sitting on one of the corpses. He lit a cigarette, pointing toward the grand door.
"The prey is waiting for you, German. Go on in."
German smiled darkly, slamming the door open with brutal force.
A gunshot echoed through the room — but German dodged it with ease. His opponent emerged from the shadows — a fat, grotesque man with a hideous expression.
German fired from under the table, hitting the man's leg.
This was Anger Decora — a serial killer known among the elite as the "Caring Father." His reputation for adopting orphans was nothing but a lie. In truth, he murdered their parents and used his power to do whatever he pleased with them.
German shot his other leg, causing Decora to scream in agony. "You filthy whore!"
Without a shred of mercy, German fired another shot into Decora's stomach. He followed it with a final bullet to the head. Blood splattered across German's face.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth to his ear, placing the gun against his temple with a wicked smile. He gave the lifeless corpse a mocking nod.
"The hunt… is complete. The prey has fallen in crimson."