Two days passed in agonizing silence for Mila Torres. She had re-read her reports, stared at the whiteboard in her apartment, and come to one, undeniable conclusion: her case was dead.
Captain Hayes had officially (and gleefully) closed her "Anomaly" investigation, citing the $10 million donation as proof that Vicky Thorne was a "public asset," not a suspect. She was a detective with no case, no leads, and no authority.
She was also a woman who couldn't stop thinking about a man's smile. The way his eyes had softened when he spoke to Alex the waiter. The genuine kindness he'd shown the engineering student.
She found herself in a moral freefall. The man she was supposed to arrest was doing more good for the city in a week than her entire precinct had done in a year. He wasn't just a suspect anymore; he was a riddle she had to solve, even if it meant doing it on her own time.
She pulled out her personal phone. Her fingers hovered over his name. VICKY T. Her heart was hammering, a frantic 110 BPM just from the thought of texting him. She wasn't a cop right now. She was just... Mila.
(Mila): You said we should do this again. I'm still fascinated. And I'm still a terrible liar. Drinks? Tonight?
(Mila): As two people. Not an analyst. Not a... whatever you think I am. Just a conversation.
She hit send before she could lose her nerve. The reply came back in less than ten seconds.
(Vicky): Honesty. I like it.
(Vicky): Not drinks. The Veros Museum of Art. 7 PM. They have a new antiquities exhibit. It's quiet.
Mila stared at the text. A museum. Not a power-play restaurant, not a nightclub. A quiet, public, normal place. It was the most disarming, unexpected choice possible. It was brilliant. And she was terrified.
The Campus King ,
Vicky, meanwhile, was experiencing a different side of his new power: social gravity. He was walking across the Veros University quad, having just left a meeting with his old engineering professor (who now treated him like a visiting dignitary).
His old friends, Maya and Ethan, caught up with him. They were still visibly reeling from his transformation.
"Vicky... man," Ethan said, jogging to keep up with Vicky's long, confident stride. "This 'Future Fund' thing... it's all anyone is talking about. You're... you're like a superhero or something."
Vicky stopped and gave his friend a small, real smile. "Not a superhero, Ethan. Just a guy with a checkbook who remembers what it felt like to be broke."
"Well, it's working," Maya said, her arms crossed, though her usual skepticism was replaced with awe. "You know Seraphina? She's been trying to get your new phone number from everyone. It's pathetic. She looks like a ghost."
"Some people," Vicky said, his eyes going cold for a moment, "don't know what they have until they've thrown it in the trash. Their loss."
As they neared the student union, they saw a small commotion. A girl, a freshman, was standing by a table covered in handmade posters, looking distraught. A group of older students—members of the same elite, wealthy social clique that Damien and Seraphina had once ruled—were openly laughing at her.
"A 'Clean Water for Villages' bake sale?" one of the rich students sneered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "How quaint. Does your $20 actually do anything, or just make you feel better about your cheap clothes?"
The girl's face flushed crimson. "It's for a good cause! We're trying to fund a well..."
"A well?" the bully laughed. "How about you 'well' get off the quad? You're ruining the scenery."
Vicky, who had been listening, felt that familiar, cold rage settle over him. It wasn't the violent fury of a predator. It was the icy anger of someone who had been in that girl's shoes. He had been mocked for his cheap clothes, his desperation.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't text Marcus. He just walked over.
"A bake sale," Vicky said, his voice cutting through the laughter. The rich students froze. They all knew who he was. The guy with the McLaren. The guy who gave away $10 million. The guy who had financially executed Damien Vance.
"Mr. Thorne," the lead bully stammered, his arrogance vanishing instantly.
Vicky ignored him, turning his full, kind attention to the girl. "Clean water. That's a logistics and engineering problem," he said gently. "What's your name?"
"Sarah, sir," she whispered, star-struck.
"Sarah. How much for one well?"
"Five thousand dollars, sir. We... we've raised sixty-two."
Vicky looked at her cheap posters, her earnest, hopeful face. Then he looked at the smug, designer-clad students who were mocking her.
"I'll buy the well," Vicky said simply.
Sarah's jaw dropped. "What?"
"And I'll buy a second one for the village next to it. Ten thousand dollars." He pulled out his phone, not for Marcus, but for his personal banking app. He made the transfer to her charity's link right in front of them. "And I'll match whatever you raise for the rest of the day. Now... how much for a brownie?"
Sarah, tears in her eyes, just handed him one.
Vicky took the brownie, then turned to the frozen, silent bullies. He looked them up and down, his gaze filled with a quiet, profound disappointment that was worse than any threat.
"The 'Veros Student Future Fund' is for students who want to build things," he said, his voice quiet. "People like Sarah. People who create. But you... you just consume. You mock hard work because you've never had to do it. You're exactly what's wrong with this place. And I'm going to fix it."
He didn't threaten them. He didn't have to. He just... dismissed them. He had passed a social judgment, and in the new campus hierarchy, his word was law. The bullies practically ran away, their faces pale.
Vicky turned back to Sarah, who was sobbing with gratitude. "Don't ever let people like that stop you," he said kindly. "Please send your proposal for the next ten wells to my office."
He walked away, leaving Ethan and Maya speechless. He had changed the entire social dynamic of the university without a single threat.
The Museum
That night, Mila was waiting by the museum's entrance, her heart doing a frantic staccato. 118 BPM. She wasn't a cop. She was a woman, about to meet a man she couldn't understand.
Vicky arrived, not in a suit, but in dark, expensive jeans and a simple black cashmere sweater. He looked... normal. Young. Incredibly handsome. He smiled when he saw her. Not his cold, predator smile. A small, almost shy, real smile.
"Mila," he said. "Glad you came."
"I... I'm surprised you did," she admitted.
"You were honest," he said, gesturing for her to walk with him. "I reward honesty."
They walked into the antiquities exhibit. The room was vast, quiet, and filled with marble statues of Roman gods and emperors.
"Mars, Jupiter, Hades," Vicky mused, stopping in front of a bust of a stern-looking emperor. "They built an empire on the idea of power. That power was a divine right. That the strong should rule the weak."
Mila saw her opening. This was it. No lies. "Is that what you believe?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Vicky turned to her. His - Blood Sense was active. He could feel her pulse, 105 BPM. She wasn't probing. She was asking.
"I believe the old systems are broken," he said, his voice echoing slightly in the marble hall. "I believe the rich, like the Vances, rule by privilege, not strength. They're weak, corrupt, and they hurt people. I believe the law, your law, is too slow. It's designed to protect the Vances, not the Alex Prestons."
Mila's breath hitched. "And you? You're the alternative? You're the... the judge?"
"I'm the consequence," Vicky said, his eyes intense. "I'm the market correction. You're a cop, Mila. You see the worst of it. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you haven't sat, frustrated, knowing a man is guilty but you can't touch him because of a technicality or a rich lawyer."
She couldn't answer. He was voicing the exact frustration that had haunted her for her entire career. The reason she'd gone solo on his case.
"You can't just... be the law," she whispered, but her argument sounded weak, even to her.
"Why not?" Vicky challenged, not aggressively, but with genuine curiosity. "If you have the power to fix something, to stop a bully, to save a life... isn't it your responsibility to use it? The girl on campus today. The bullies. The law wouldn't have stopped them. Public shaming? They're immune to it. But I stopped them. I ended their power. I gave it to her. Is that wrong?"
Mila looked at him, at this brilliant, ruthless, kind man, and she felt her entire moral foundation crack. She was falling for his philosophy. She was falling for him.
"I... I don't know," she said, and it was the most honest thing she'd ever said to him.
TARGET ANALYSIS: Mila Torres
Status: Deeply Conflicted, High Admiration, Confused, Attracted.
Heart Rate: 122 BPM (Pure emotional chaos.)
Vicky saw the war in her eyes. He saw her resolve as a cop fighting a losing battle against her instincts as a woman. He reached out, not to touch her, but just a small gesture.
"You don't have to know tonight, Mila," he said, his voice softening. "Just... think about it."
The Night's Business
He left her at the museum steps an hour later, her mind spinning. Vicky, however, was already focused on his other life. The "date" had been a success, but he needed XP.
XP Check: 1,800 / 6,000 (To Lvl 11)
Marcus had found a new nest. "Master, this one is larger. At least twenty Stalkers, and their Alpha. A Level 11 beast. This will be a true fight."
"Good," Vicky said. He met Elias and the Alpha Squad at The Vault.
The hunt, this time, was not a simple harvest. The Level 11 Alpha Stalker was a monster. It was three meters tall, lightning-fast, and its claws were laced with a paralytic venom.
It wounded two of the Alpha Squad (Lvl 6) before Vicky personally intervened.
"Elias! Get them back! Shield wall!" Vicky commanded, activating - Titan's Strength. He met the Alpha's charge head-on. It was a brutal, physical clash. STR (16) vs. the Alpha's raw, beastial power. He used Blood Shield to tank a venom-laced strike, the shield cracking under the strain. He retaliated with a Level 2 - Blood Arrow, blinding the beast, before leaping onto its back and, with a roar, tearing its head from its shoulders.
The battle was bloody, but it was a victory.
VICKY THORNE: STATUS
XP Acquired: (20x Stalkers @ 150) + (1x Alpha @ 1000) = +4,000 XP
Total XP: 5,800 / 6,000 (To Lvl 11)
He was close. So close.
He stood in his penthouse, the high of the battle fading. He thought of the two wounded soldiers, already healing in The Vault's med-bay. He thought of the girl, Sarah, at the bake sale, her future secured.
And he thought of Mila. He had felt her pulse. He knew, with his vampire's certainty, that she was no longer hunting him. She was trying to understand him. And soon, she would be trying to join him.