In a gloomy forest near Brașov, Transylvania.
A group of uninvited guests appeared without warning. There were men and women among them, most of whom looked like foreigners. Their builds were generally robust, yet their faces showed signs of age and wear.
At the head of the group walked a man with a brutally coarse appearance—unkempt gray hair, a face crisscrossed with scars, and slightly exposed, sharp canine teeth. One glance at him was enough to inspire fear.
Their pace was unhurried, and their destination seemed to be a castle to the north of Brașov.
Greyback led from the front, his brows knitted tightly, his expression dark with irritation.
Stopping abruptly, he let out an annoyed growl.
"What the hell is Gene doing…? It's been so many days, and he still hasn't shown up!"
"Didn't the Dark Lord give Gene an important task?" a werewolf beside him ventured.
"Maybe the mission was complicated and held him up…"
"If it were truly troublesome, the Dark Lord would've sent me personally," Greyback said arrogantly.
"Since he sent Gene, it must've been a simple task."
"Of course…" the other werewolf hurried to agree, smiling ingratiatingly.
Greyback's face darkened further.
"That damned Gene. He must've run into some pretty Muggle girl and lost his head. We probably won't see him again until after the next full moon. I just hope he doesn't delay our plans!"
"Fenrir, with you leading us, that definitely won't—"
The sycophantic werewolf was cut off by another voice.
"Greyback," Remus Lupin asked quietly, "where exactly is our destination?"
Walking among the werewolves, Lupin was unremarkable—his hair graying, his clothes shabby and worn.
"We're almost there, Remus." Greyback pointed impatiently toward the mountainside ahead.
"See it? Right there… Dracula's Castle. The bats' nest."
"Dracula's Castle…" Lupin frowned as he looked toward the fortress halfway up the mountain.
"Are you sure you haven't made a mistake, Greyback?"
"How could I—" Greyback froze.
"But…" Lupin hesitated. "In that castle, all I see are Muggles. No vampires at all."
...
Yes—absolutely packed with Muggles.
Dracula's Castle—known among Muggles as Bran Castle—stood atop a small hill, backed by steep, nearly impassable mountains and overlooking the road that cut through the valley below.
According to legend, Count Dracula had once converted the castle gates into fortified walls to repel invaders. In the past, the only way in was from the southern side, climbing up via rope ladders lowered from above.
Now, however, a sturdy drawbridge had been constructed on the southern approach.
Wave after wave of Muggles, families in tow, crossed the drawbridge in high spirits, heading toward the castle. Not only the bridge, but the winding mountain paths and the castle grounds themselves were crowded with Muggles.
Most of them looked like foreigners, touring the castle with curiosity, pointing at the scenery and chatting animatedly. Quite a few uniformed Muggles were also present, maintaining order.
From time to time, shrill cries rang out from within the castle—but they weren't cries of fear. They were screams of excitement.
"So many Muggles…" one werewolf licked his lips. "If this were a full moon night…"
"Idiot!" Greyback smacked him hard on the head. "Even on a full moon, we couldn't possibly kill them all. If even one escaped, it would be a catastrophe!"
"There must be thousands of Muggles here… maybe even more," muttered a werewolf who seemed better at counting than the rest. "What exactly are they doing?"
"Looks like… sightseeing," Lupin said with a wry expression. "It seems the Muggles have turned that ancient castle into a tourist attraction."
"Then… where are the vampires?" the earlier werewolf asked curiously.
"I don't know," Lupin replied, shaking his head.
"Wait," Greyback said after a moment's thought, finally sitting down on a rock.
"When night falls and the Muggles leave, those bats should come out."
...
Things did not unfold the way Greyback had expected.
After night fell, not only did the number of Muggle tourists at Dracula's Castle fail to decrease—it actually increased. Several Muggles even dressed up as vampires, using steel wires to swing along the castle walls and eaves, drawing bursts of laughter from within.
This continued well past midnight.
The werewolves could only stare at one another in silence.
Fortunately, the forest they were hiding in seemed free of Muggle activity.
"Could we have come to the wrong place?" one werewolf whispered.
"That's impossible!" Greyback snapped, shooting him a furious glare.
His patience was visibly wearing thin.
He leapt nimbly up into a tree and threw back his head, letting out a long howl.
"Woo—"
Unfortunately, the Muggles near the castle weren't frightened in the slightest. Instead, they pointed toward the forest and whispered excitedly. A few children even mimicked the howl, shouting back in imitation.
Left with no choice, Fenrir leapt down from the tree in embarrassment.
"Wait—there's a sound!" Lupin's expression changed abruptly as he turned toward the dense forest behind them.
Countless pairs of eyes glowing faint green also shifted in that direction.
Under the collective gaze of the werewolves, a thin figure slowly stepped out into view.
Lupin raised his wand, illuminating the face of the unknown being.
He looked almost human—just shorter, with deathly pale skin. He glanced nervously at the surrounding werewolves, his body trembling slightly.
"Werewolves?" he asked in a hoarse, quavering voice.
"Vampire?" Greyback replied, nodding as he asked the question.
The frail figure nodded rapidly in response.
Greyback rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, his expression aloof and commanding.
"I bring the Lord's command," he said coldly.
"You know perfectly well what it means."
The diminutive vampire stumbled back several steps, shaking his head frantically, his eyes wide with terror, as though something unspeakable had frightened him.
"Since you've seen it…" Greyback barked, his voice icy.
"Take us to your lair."