By the time Seonyeong and Jihan finally left their room—freshly washed, composed, and almost glowing—and descended to the Game Hall, it was already close to six in the evening.
Yesterday, amid the rush of chasing after Lo, Seonyeong hadn't had the chance to properly look around. Now it was clear: no matter where a guest went—boutiques, restaurants, or simply the lobby—they inevitably passed through the very heart of the complex, the Game Hall itself.
From afar everything looked dazzling, alive with lights and laughter. Yet when you looked closer, it became eerie—people with hollow eyes throwing away their last bits of sanity and fortune. Even the calmest soul could turn obsessed here in a blink.
Seonyeong shuddered and quickened his pace, eager to leave the floor.
The sky at sunset was the color of dried blood.
Jihan glanced up briefly.
— You alright?
— Just… take your umbrella.
The restaurant chosen by the team was far from the hotel, buzzing like an eastern bazaar. By the time they arrived, the crimson hues of the sky had softened into pale indigo.
The unfamiliar language around him struck Seonyeong's ears like harsh static. Even if someone had been eavesdropping, they wouldn't have made sense of a word. Folding his umbrella, he murmured:
— Didn't you say that when Im Chinu runs out of money, he arranges things like this? Instead of these miserable tournaments, he could've just bought the whole Game Hall.
Lo Dan, already seated and stabbing a piece of ginger chicken in Caribe sauce, reacted instantly:
— Eh, that makes no sense. It's easier to tempt the owner of Elysium with the promise of eternal youth.
— Really?
— Yes! You didn't know? A few years ago, the owner of Elysium took his fifth wife. Everyone thought he just married young to feel younger, but actually—he became young first, then got married. Because of that, Western Light got permission to host a hundred guests here for three days.
Seonyeong hummed thoughtfully. Head Lo had mentioned it once, but never in such detail.
Lo Dan leaned closer, lowering his voice:
— By the way, hyung… do vampires have aphrodisiacs besides hypnosis? I was worried, since you two were together all night—what if those creatures—ow!
The spoon Jihan threw hit him square in the forehead. Lo Dan yelped, clutching his head.
— Why is it always me? Everyone's thinking it, they just don't say it! Right?
— No.
— Nope.
— Of course not.
Yi Hoon, Seo Raon, and Lo answered in unison. Betrayed by his own team, Lo Dan sulked. Seo Raon cleared his throat, hiding a blush.
— Anyway… the important thing is that Mr. Seonyeong had a good rest.
Realizing that everyone knew who he'd shared a room with made Seonyeong's face burn. It felt like someone had just announced to the whole world that he had slept with Jihan.
A moment later, Lo Dan, having earned another smack from Jihan, began to whine, while Seo Raon calmly continued, ignoring the noise:
— The main tournament starts tomorrow at six p.m., so you'll need to be on the Fiftieth Floor before then. Since ID checks and accommodation might take a while, it's best to arrive a few hours early.
— Ah… right. I'll have to move.
Deep down, he felt a strange pang of disappointment. He'd secretly hoped Jihan would stay with him all three days.
— Western Light rented the entire Fiftieth Floor for seventy-two hours starting tomorrow evening. During that time, you won't be able to leave. It's a precaution to minimize incidents.
— Then… where will I eat and sleep? Am I supposed to play poker for three days straight without rest?
Seo Raon smiled.
— There are private rooms on the Fiftieth Floor. Much better than the forty-ninth. Once you present your Invitation Code, the staff will guide you there.
— Hm…
Seo Raon added softly:
— Also, Yi Hoon will be working there as a waiter for three days. If you see him, just ignore him. Contact him only in case of emergency.
Yi Hoon, chewing meat with a stony expression, nodded.
— Got it.
Seonyeong smiled faintly, though he felt a little dazed.
Seo Raon really is a meticulous man.
Originally Yi Hoon was supposed to participate if Seonyeong refused. Now they were using him as an informant—and to make sure Seonyeong stayed focused. Could someone that careful really have promised to create a cure to make him human again?
— And what exactly counts as an "emergency situation"?
— When people lose money, they do insane things. You never know. Three years ago, there was a fight—someone lost a tooth. And that was the mildest incident.
— Hmm.
Seonyeong nodded. After a short pause, Seo Raon added quietly:
— It's strange to say this now, but please be careful. Come back safe.
Seonyeong chuckled.
— Right. Let's get to business.
— By the way, Jihan told me something interesting yesterday.
Instantly, all eyes turned toward him. Even the usually loud Jihan and Lo Dan went silent, and Lo set aside her half-eaten egg tart.
Judging by their reactions, Jihan hadn't lied when he said he'd told his friends everything.
— He said he could make me human again… Is that even possible?
Seo Raon smiled calmly.
— Yes. I'm not sure how much you already know, but if you truly wish it, we're ready to support you completely.
— Naturally, you assume I'll win an Invitation Code this time, correct?
— Exactly.
— Then what if… I don't? What happens then?
Seo Raon's face tightened.
— I hope that doesn't happen, but according to Section Two of our pact, you'd have to provide an alternative.
Section Two stated: Party B is obligated to provide Party A with one High-Level Invitation Code to "Western Light."
— So if I invest one billion won, that would do?
— That… we can discuss if it comes to that.
So they'll drag me in no matter what.
He'd expected as much. Seonyeong nodded lightly, then asked an even sharper question:
— And what if it turns out I'm not employed by Kim Jinsu at all—but connected to Shinyo Corporation?
The table fell silent. It was a delicate question, one both sides knew the answer to but had avoided saying aloud.
After a pause, Seo Raon replied evenly:
— The first part doesn't matter. But if it's the latter…
He cast a discreet glance at Jihan.
— Shinyo Corporation intends to deny any ties to you—and claim they don't know who you are.
— …Got it.
The tension thickened. Seonyeong laughed it off deliberately.
— Ha-ha, well, as long as it all works out. I was just curious. After all, life rarely goes according to plan.
— Sorry I can't promise more. But I sincerely wish you luck.
— I like your honesty.
Their eyes met—Jihan had been watching him the whole time. His slightly anxious gaze seemed almost endearing.
There was still more to discuss about Elixir Blue-5, but if Jihan's words were true, there was still no complete way to turn Seonyeong human again.
Even if the medicine existed, they likely needed his vampiric abilities for now—so they'd never hand it over until Im Chinu was dealt with.
If he looked at it rationally, nothing about this situation was good.
But after last night with Jihan, his heart refused to calm.
Even if he could never be human again… wasn't it enough that someone might accept him as he was? And if the elixir could truly be developed before these people died—wasn't that still a kind of hope?
Seo Raon, noticing where Seonyeong's gaze had wandered, cleared his throat.
— By the way, Jihan's heading back to Korea for a short while—the chairman called him in. Just so you know, in case you look for him.
— Ah, I see.
Seonyeong looked away, embarrassed. Maybe he'd been staring too obviously.
Jihan spoke again:
— If I get the chance, I'll keep watching your matches through the live stream.
— Don't.
— Alright, your choice.
The tension in the air lightened a little. Lo Dan, ever tactless, jumped in cheerfully:
— You know, true love is such a beautiful thing! Overcoming species and vengeance alike—ow!
This time Yi Hoon stepped on his foot instead of Jihan. Amid the commotion, Seonyeong quietly tried to steady his racing heart.
A life where someone stood beside him… if one day he became human again—
It didn't sound so bad.
***
The next day, four p.m.
Seonyeong finished packing—expensive clothes neatly folded, passport secured, five bags of blood from Jihan tucked safely in. Then he took the elevator up to the Fiftieth Floor of the Game Hall.
Ding!
The doors opened with a soft chime, revealing a luxurious carpet patterned with Moroccan motifs, golden ceilings, and beige walls.
To the left—red sofas for guests.
To the right—a grand reception desk lined with glossy green marble.
It was still early, so besides the staff, the floor was empty.
A man and a woman behind the desk noticed him, stood, and bowed.
— How may we help you?
— …Western Light.
Following Lo Dan's instructions, Seonyeong pulled a golden Invitation Code from his inner pocket, holding it lightly between two fingers before handing it over with deliberate grace.
The man accepted it politely with both hands, opened the envelope, and scanned the barcode inside. Seonyeong couldn't see the screen, but he assumed his participant data appeared immediately.
He was dressed exactly as Lo had instructed: a dark-navy suit, crisp white shirt, and a tie patterned with white and pink roses. Even the tie clip was golden, inlaid with tiny diamonds. His chestnut hair was slicked back, matching perfectly with his face—an elegant, composed image.
His silver-framed glasses hid microscopic cameras at the hinges, almost invisible among the jeweled details.
Beneath the collar of his shirt, where the tie pressed against his throat, a miniature microphone lay hidden, connecting him directly to headquarters.
At one point, they had even discussed adding fake blemishes for disguise, but once he learned that over eighty of the hundred participants were professional poker players, he saw no need.
Besides, Lo insisted his natural looks were disarming enough—any attempt at disguise would have been wasted effort.
After a brief moment, the staff member handed back a key card.
— Mr. Kasey Black, it's an honor to welcome you to the private tournament hosted by Western Light. Your suite is 5010.
Along with the card, he offered a cheap-looking plastic badge.
No. 47 — KASEY BLACK
Seonyeong grimaced.
— This is your identification badge, sir. Please keep it visible at all times.
— …Understood.
— Before entering, we'll perform a brief security inspection. Thank you for your patience.
The man led him toward the entrance, where a towering guard—nearly two meters tall, with the face of a goblin—was waiting stiffly. No words were needed; a search was inevitable.
— Please.
Seonyeong shrugged, placing his almost empty suitcase on the conveyor belt. It rolled through the x-ray scanner without issue. The guard nodded—clear.
Then came the handheld detector.
If the device worked properly, it would beep four times: the glasses with cameras, the earpiece, the mic beneath his collar, and the tie clip.
Casually, Seonyeong removed the harmless tie clip and set it on top of the scanner, then feigned sudden realization.
— Ah, I think I left my key card at the front desk.
— Oh, in that case—
As the man reached for his radio, Seonyeong caught his wrist and met his eyes.
— Could you bring it personally, please?
— …Of course. One moment.
The employee turned and disappeared down the hallway. The guard, left behind, hesitated—protocol required two staff for inspections.
But the guest with crimson eyes looked back at him calmly.
— Your device's off. Turn it on, and let's finish quickly.
Of course, the scanner was on.
Still, the guard frowned and glanced at it—and somehow, it really seemed powered down. It had never failed before.
Perplexed, he pressed the button again and swept the device slowly over Seonyeong's body. Silence.
Naturally—he'd just turned it off himself.
— All clear, sir.
— Thank you. Oh, looks like it's off again. Must be old.
— …Strange. It's brand new…
Flustered, the guard pressed the switch once more just as the front-desk clerk returned.
— Apologies, sir, but it seems we already gave you the key. Could you check again?
— Ah—here it is. My mistake. So, may I go in now? The inspection's done, right?
— Of course.
The vampire's red eyes swept over both men. He smiled faintly.
— Thank you for your hard work.
He retrieved his tie clip, then strolled deeper into the hall.
A voice burst in his earpiece:
— Wow, hyung, that was perfect! Straight out of a spy movie!
— Ahem.
Seonyeong coughed lightly, signaling for silence. Someone must have elbowed Lo Dan, because the line went quiet at once.
After a long corridor, a woman in a red blazer and black A-line skirt appeared and bowed.
— Welcome, participant No. 47, Mr. Kasey. This is the lounge. Ahead of you is the Jade Hall—that's where you'll be playing for the next three days.
Seonyeong's eyes widened as he took in the lavish interior.
This is just the lounge?
At its center stood a mosaic wall framed by marble tables and sofas for four. Orchids of rare varieties filled the room—each likely worth over a million won. On both sides stood billiard tables, even their cues and balls gleaming with luxury.
Even Seonyeong, who had seen plenty of opulence in his long life, found it impressive. Ordinary humans would be utterly blinded by such splendor.
In one corner stretched a bar counter of pure malachite, shelves lined with ten-year grain spirits, thirty-year whiskies, and rare wines no normal shop could sell. The air was fragrant with wealth.
— …How much does all this cost?
The woman simply smiled, glancing at his badge.
— For participants with that tag, everything's free. Drink as much as you like.
The plastic badge on his chest was clearly his key to indulgence.
— Your suite is in the second wing to the left of the exit. If you need anything, just tell the staff. Please be in the Jade Hall by six p.m. tonight.
Through the window, Seonyeong saw what looked like a private villa with its own pool.
When he'd first heard from Head Lo about the billion-won entry fee, it had sounded absurd—but seeing this grandeur, he wondered if maybe it really was worth it.
Inside his room, he began to unpack. The suite, of course, was equally extravagant.
Without removing his glasses, he walked around, transmitting the layout to headquarters.
— If you keep talking nonsense, I'll pull this earpiece out. Clear? No chatter unless I say so.
— Understood, message received.
The voice that answered wasn't Lo Dan's—it was Seo Raon's. Seonyeong stiffened slightly.
Arms crossed, he muttered:
— I'll go to the bathroom without the glasses.
— …Understood. You remember the signal you agreed on with Yi Hoon?
— Of course.
A pointless thought crossed his mind. I'd rather it were Jihan.