Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 4 - Part 5

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There was a clattering noise, and when Al looked up, he saw that Akira had unlatched the stopper on one of the galley carts and was pulling it out. He grabbed a bottle of mineral water from inside and began to gulp it down. He must have been terribly thirsty. Akira wiped the water dripping from the corners of his mouth roughly and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. On the inside of his elbow was a wound where he had stabbed himself with a broken bottle to let Al drink his blood. Akira scratched the wound with his fingernail, causing the blood, which had finally stopped, to start oozing again.

The sweet, sweet scent of blood filled the air. Akira moved his wounded arm closer to Al's face. 

“Drink a little,” Akira urged. Al shook his head, but the movement caused his shoulder to throb with pain. Akira had just been drinking water to replenish the fluids he lost when Al had fed from him. There was no way Al could drink more now. Even in the restroom earlier, he had taken so much blood that Akira had turned pale and nearly collapsed. If Al drank anything more, Akira would surely die.

"No." 

"Don't hesitate. Just drink as much as you can, but not enough to kill me," Akira insisted. 

“I don’t need it.” Al clung to Akira's knee.

“Just drink,” Akira urged. No matter how much Al resisted, the scent of blood triggered his instincts. The moment he thought it was a waste to let the blood drip away, he found himself unconsciously latching onto Akira's arm. The sweet liquid soothed his throat for only an instant before Al forced himself to pull away with sheer willpower.

"I don't need it." 

“Stop acting like a child,” Akira scolded him, though Al didn’t know the word “childish.” He understood that he was being scolded, but even if he was reprimanded or hit, Al didn't want to weaken Akira any further. He pressed his face firmly against Akira's knee to avoid unconsciously latching onto the blood-soaked arm again.

Yet, Akira grabbed Al's hair and lifted his head as if he were a kitten. He brought his arm closer to Al's face. Al used his free left hand to try to push himself away from the dripping blood. Akira's face, pale as it was, looked even pale now, almost like that of a sick person.

Why was Akira going this far for him? Was it because Al was an incomplete vampire? Because he was injured? Or maybe it was because Akira just really liked bats... At that point, Al didn't care anymore.

Al pressed himself against Akira and kissed him. The moment he realized how dry his lips were, Akira shoved him away, causing Al to hit his injured right shoulder against the cart. “Ouch!” Al cried out as he rolled onto the galley floor.

“Sorry,” Akira apologized, then moved to help Al up, leaning over him. Al wrapped his left arm around Akira's back and pulled him close. Akira's weight collapsed onto him. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Al kissed him again. When Akira tried to pull away, Al held his head in place with his left hand and his painful right hand, repeating the kiss.



A sweet scent wafted from deep within those soft lips. Al could tell that Akira had opened his mouth wide during the kiss. Blood, warm and slick, began to flow out as if beckoning him. Akira had somehow injured the inside of his mouth.

When Al tried to pull away, knowing it was wrong, Akira held his head in place. Even though Al knew it was wrong, he was soon lost in the kiss, filled with both affection and hunger. He thought he heard a faint gunshot, but it wasn't enough to make him stop.

“Mm…” Akira let out a small sound through his nose. At that moment, Giraffe burst into the galley, exclaiming, [“I did it!”]

Realizing what he was witnessing, Giraffe gasped in shock. Akira slowly sat up and wiped his mouth, while Giraffe awkwardly looked away.

[“I got the other guy. Shot him in the leg, so he can't move well. I took his gun and tied his hands. Now there's only one hijacker left—the one in the cockpit. I need some help to lure him out. Come with me.”]

Akira nodded in agreement and stood up, but his body wavered, causing him to bump into the galley wall.

[“Hey, are you okay?”] Giraffe asked, concerned. 

[“I’m fine. Just a bit shaken,”] Akira replied, steadying himself. He told Al, "Stay here and be quiet."

“Akira, you're anemic,” Al said, worried. 

“I'm fine... I can tell if I'm about to die or not,” Akira responded dismissively. 

"Aim..."

Akira brushed off Al's concern, reducing it to a simple matter of life or death. Then, he and Giraffe left the galley together, apparently planning to capture the boss in the cockpit. Al couldn't help but worry, watching Akira stumble just from standing up.

Al lay on his stomach and used his left arm to crawl across the galley floor, peering out into the aisle.

[“Hey, shouldn’t we treat his wounds?”] 

Akira stopped in the middle of the aisle, around the area between the galley where Al was and the first-class section, and pointed to a seat. The tip of a shoe was visible from the edge of one of the three seats.

[“I shot him in both legs, below the knees. It should be fine. I was going to leave him there, but I dragged him out here because it would have been annoying if he started making a fuss in first class near the cockpit. He should be grateful I let him lie on the seats,”] Giraffe responded harshly.

[“He's bleeding heavily. If we leave him for too long, he could...”] Akira began, but Giraffe cut him off.

[“Your lover's injuries are worse than his. , while we're besides talking, the pilot's life is still in danger. I'd rather save an innocent pilot than a criminal trying to kill people. I need your cooperation to do that.”]

Akira seemed to hesitate, but Giraffe's firm words forced him to follow along. Meanwhile, Al used his left arm and both knees to crawl out into the aisle. As he got closer to the visible feet, a pleasant smell reached him. When he was about four or five feet away, he heard a painful groan.

Al grabbed the trembling feet and dragged the suffering man off the seat.

[“Aahhh!”] The man screamed as he fell heavily to the floor. Seeing him up close, Al realized it was Dog. Like Al, Dog had been shot in both legs. Giraffe must have been a good shot.

[“H-help me...”] Dog pleaded, clearly thinking he was about to be killed. The man who had tormented Al so cruelly now seemed utterly pitiful, begging for his life with tears in his eyes.

The movement must have aggravated Dog's gunshot wounds because fresh blood began to pour from them. Al looked around for something to help. A thin scarf was draped over the seat behind where Dog had been. Al reached for it, pulled it toward him, and whispered an apology to the owner before tearing it in two with his mouth and left hand.

Dog looked terrified, unsure of what Al was planning. Al pressed down on Dog's right leg and placed his mouth over the wound, sucking hard.

[“Ahhh!”]

With Dog's scream, the bullet popped out. Al spat it out and then quickly sucked up some of the blood flowing from the wound before tying the leg tightly with the torn scarf. Although he had only taken a little blood, Al felt his shoulder wound begin to heal, the pain reducing to a mother bruise, and strength returning to his limbs.

He repeated the process on Dog's left leg, carefully sucking out the bullet and drinking some of the blood. The pain in his legs began to fade as his body rapidly healed. Fresh blood was much more potent than what he had taken from corpses.

[“Don’t drink my blood, you freak!”] Dog exclaimed, horrified.

Ignoring Dog's outburst, Al finished bandaging the wound with the remaining piece of the scarf. After treating him, Al decided to test his strength and stood up. His legs and arm were no longer in pain—they had healed completely.

Dog stared at Al as if he were a zombie. Al leaned over him, placed his fingers on Dog's forehead, and mentally commanded, [“Forget about the hijacking.”]

[“What the hell are you?! Get off me!”] Dog protested, but no images appeared in Al's mind like they had with Giraffe. Switching tactics, Al tried, [“Forget everything from the moment you met Angel!”] But nothing seemed to work.

[“Get away from me, you gay bastard !”] Dog struggled and headbutted Al, making him win in pain and anger.

[“Hold still, or I'll seriously shove something up your ass!”] Al shouted in frustration. At this threat, Dog went as quiet as a kitten. Al pulled the bandaged man back onto the seat, then headed toward the cockpit. His injuries were healed, and he was ready to fight alongside Akira and Giraffe.

When Al reached the galley at the front, he found Akira and Giraffe standing by the cockpit door.

[“It's no good,”] Giraffe muttered, holding his gun. [“They're starting to realize something's off in the cabin.”]

Akira nodded in agreement. Giraffe was the first to notice Al's approach, his eyes widening as he jumped in surprise.

[“Y-you're okay?”] Giraffe asked, his voice filled with disbelief. Akira turned around and shouted, "Al!" rushing over to him.

“What happened to your injuries?” Akira asked, astonished.

“They're healed,” Al replied.

Akira's face was a mix of shock and confusion. "Healed? How?"

"I treated Dog's wounds. He gave me a reward," Al explained.

“Wait a minute,” Akira said, pressing his hand to his forehead. "Dog? The hijacker who got shot in both legs? Are you saying he gave you blood as a reward for treating him?"

"No. I took it on my own," Al replied, only for Akira to smack him lightly on the head.

"Ow, Akira! That hurt!"

“You drain an injured person’s blood without permission?”

Although it was true, Al quickly shook his head in denial.

"I only took a little. Dog's fine—he even headbutted me."

Akira sighed deeply, perhaps relieved by Dog's headbutt. 

[“Not to interrupt, but you really should put on some clothes,”] Giraffe pointed out, gesturing toward Al. It wasn't until then that Al remembered he was still completely naked. Ever since he had reverted to human form, he had been nude, but with the plane's temperature being comfortable and all the tension from the gunfight and his injuries, he had forgotten all about it.

[“I don't have any clothes,”] Al admitted. 

[“It's weird not to have clothes. You can't board a plane naked. Did those guys take them from you?”] Giraffe asked.

Technically, Al had boarded the plane as a bat, so he had indeed boarded without clothes, but that wasn't something he could explain.

[“Whatever the reason, at least cover up down there. I'm not gay, but it's still distracting,”] Giraffe suggested.

[“I'm not gay either,”] Al responded. Giraffe glanced between Al and Akira before nodding reluctantly. [“Well, if that's the case, then I guess it's fine.”]

Al looked around for something to cover his lower body. He spotted a flight attendant's uniform draped over the front seat in first class. It was the same uniform that Giraffe had forced Cat to wear before losing his memory of Angel. He wondered what had happened to Cat after jumping off the plane but decided to try on the uniform anyway. The shirt was too small—he couldn't even get his arms through the sleeves—and the skirt wouldn't fit around his waist.

He considered opening the overhead compartments to search through passengers' luggage, thinking there might be someone who had brought a change of clothes. But even in this emergency, the idea of ​​riffing through other people's belongings made him hesitate. As he looked around, Al spotted something that would work. It would cover the front at least, so he put it on. Akira snorted gently, while Giraffe... for some reason, avoided looking at him even more than before.

There was a pop, followed by a faint static noise coming from the speaker. Reflexively, Al looked up at the ceiling speaker.

["Crow, Dog... anyone, come to the cockpit immediately!"]

The boss's voice came through the plane's PA system, sounding frantic. The gunshots might have been heard in the cockpit, or maybe the boss was just getting worried because none of his men had reported back. If the boss got impatient and left the cockpit, it would be their chance. But after a moment of waiting, there was only silence—the boss didn't move.

[“What if we get one of his men to lure him out?”] Al suggested. Giraffe and Akira turned to look at him. They explained that they had already tried that by dragging Crow to the intercom in the galley, but Crow had taken advantage of a moment's distraction and jumped into a nearby restroom. That explained why Crow hadn't been visible.

That left Dog. With both legs shot, Dog couldn't walk properly, so he couldn't escape. Giraffe quickly dragged Dog over and sat him against the wall near the intercom to the cockpit. Without his balaclava, Dog's wide eyes were filled with tears, and his thick lips quivered.

["Giraffe... what happened to you?"] Dog looked up at his former comrade in disbelief, unable to process the situation.

["I'm not Giraffe, and I don't know any hijackers. Listen, you're going to do exactly what I say, or I'll blow your brains out,"] Giraffe threatened, pressing the gun against Dog's temple . Dog trembled as if sitting on ice. Al remembered from the glimpses of the past that Giraffe used to be a mild-mannered man, so this cold, ruthless expression must have been something he picked up during his time with Peaceful House. Dog, trembling, picked up the intercom and called the cockpit.

["We have... an emergency. Boss, can you come out?"]

["What have you been doing all this time?!"] The boss's voice came through the intercom, filled with anger.

["The passengers are causing trouble... It's becoming a mess..."] Dog stammered, sweat pouring down his forehead.

["I can't leave the cockpit, and you know that. Explain it now."]

["I... I can't. Please, come out,"] Dog pleaded.

["No!"] The boss was adamant about staying in the cockpit. He might have started to suspect something was wrong. Despite being threatened with a gun, Dog couldn't get the boss to come out. Frustrated, the boss abruptly cut off the communication.

Realizing the plan had failed, Giraffe snatched the intercom from Dog and slammed it against the wall, cursing under his breath. He was quite intense.

[“Looks like we'll have to storm the cockpit,”] Giraffe's eyes gleamed with determination.

[“That's a bad idea. The guy inside might panic and hurt the pilot,”] Akira warned, but Giraffe was resolute.

[“If we wait any longer, the pilot's strength will only continue to drain,”] Giraffe argued.

Al had been deep in thought and suddenly realized something.

[“There's only one hijacker left, right?”]

Akira and Giraffe turned to him.

[“Why don’t we call in the professionals? We could get the police to handle this,”] Al suggested.

[“I'd like to, but all our smartphones and communication devices were taken by those guys. We don't know where they are,”] Akira replied.

After some thought, Al came up with an idea: they could use the flight attendant's uniform that Cat had worn, a light blue shirt, and write a message on it. They couldn't find a thick marker, but Akira retrieved a bright red lipstick from Martha's bag. Giraffe, puzzled, managed to open the door to the exit hatch. Beyond the large open door was the night sky, but the surrounding area was brightly lit.

Akira stood by the open door, holding the shirt with the message written in red lipstick: "Only one hijacker left, and he's in the cockpit. All passengers are safe."

The shirt flapped in the wind, carrying the message out into the night.

:-: :-:

It seemed that attaching the boarding stairs to the airplane's exit might draw too much attention and alert the boss, so the SWAT officer climbed up using a rope hung at the entrance. Al, Akira, and Giraffe handed over Dog, informed them that Crow was in the bathroom, and then left everything to the professionals as they retreated to the very back of the economy class.

One of the younger-looking SWAT officers among the five rescuers headed to the emergency exit at the rear of the economy class and prepared the inflatable slide for evacuation. While capturing the boss, they were simultaneously carrying out the rescue of the hostages. It was the expected course of action, but Al was genuinely impressed by their efficiency.

One by one, the hostages slid down and were escorted to safety. The SWAT officer assisting with the evacuation looked at the last remaining person—Al—with a perplexed expression. It was understandable. Over his apron, Al was wearing a jacket borrowed from Akira, and below his waist, he had only a blanket wrapped around him. To top it off, he was wearing Cat's sunglasses to hide his face. He looked endlessly suspicious. ...He wasn't even on the passenger list. Avoiding being seen in such a public incident was his top priority, so this was the best he could do.

[“Where are your pants?”] 

...The SWAT officer didn't miss that detail.

[“It's been hard to find something that fits. I borrowed the jacket from a friend, but...”] 

The SWAT officer tilted his head.

[“Didn’t you have clothes that fit when you boarded the plane?”] 

Al had been a bat when he boarded the plane—technically, naked—but he couldn't say that. He scrambled to think of a plausible reason for why he might have been undressed mid-flight. Maybe a child spilled juice on him? But that would have been before the first hostages were freed, and by now, several hours had passed, so it should have dried by then.

Come to think of it, Giraffe also pointed out that he had been naked. Giraffe had seen the kiss between him and Akira and assumed they were gay... 

An idea suddenly popped into Al's mind.

[“Do you think I’m handsome and cool?”] 

Removing his sunglasses, Al asked the SWAT officer. The officer's face remained stern, as if questioning what kind of nonsense this guy was spouting in such an emergency. Nevertheless, he replied in a dry voice, [“Well, I'd say your face is well-formed.”]

[“One of the five culprits set his sights on me. He said he liked my face and then forced himself on me...”] 

Al bit his lip, shaking his head as if struggling to confess, barely holding back his agony. The SWAT officer's face suddenly paled.

[“No way...”] 

[“I told him I didn’t want to, but... he tore my clothes...”] 

The SWAT officer pressed one hand to his forehead, exclaiming, [“Unbelievable!”]

[“It's all right now. We'll definitely capture those vile criminals.”] 

Pretending to cry, Al lightly dabbed at the corner of his eye. The SWAT officer gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

[“Once you get down there, make sure you see a doctor right away. Those scumbags must be punished for the violence they inflicted on you. Stay strong. You must not let them win.”] 

Encouraged with heartfelt intensity, Al was allowed to evacuate. Though he fabricated the assault, there was no evidence as long as he didn't file a report. The criminals wouldn't be charged with more than what they were guilty of anyway.

He recalled the emergency slide evacuation method from a video he had seen on a previous flight: stretch your arms out and slide down on your hips. However, since he only had a blanket wrapped around his lower half, there was a risk it could ride up during the slide. The thought of his lower half being exposed made him self-conscious, so he held the front of the blanket like a shy girl as he sat on the slide.

This turned out to be a mistake. As soon as he started sliding, his body tilted. Keeping his legs together had thrown off his balance. The blanket slipped off, and when he raised both hands to grab it, his jacket flipped up and slid off as well.

He felt the cold Texas air brush against his bare skin. At the bottom of the slide, a SWAT officer helping with the evacuation caught him by the arm, guiding him onto the runway... in nothing but his apron and sunglasses. 

Just then, as if mocking the final hostage, a strong taste of wind blew. The hem of Al's apron fluttered up, and he frantically covered his groin. The flashes of cameras were blinding.



A middle-aged man, possibly part of the rescue team, came running over with a blanket. He draped it over Al, finally relieving him from his near-naked state. 

He overheard murmurs from nearby reporters.

[“Hey, that last hostage... was just wearing an apron, right?”] 

[“Yeah, naked except for an apron... though it was a guy.”] 

[“Isn't that the kind of apron flight attendants wear? Why was he the only one without clothes?”]

Head down, Al was led by the rescue team into what looked like an airport staff room. Inside were Akira, Giraffe, and a few of the other hostages, being examined by a man in a white coat.

[“Why am I the one being arrested!?”] 

Giraffe was yelling, confronting a large, middle-aged Black police officer standing before him.

[“Because you're one of the hijacking suspects, Edward Ings,”] the officer replied calmly. Giraffe pressed his right hand against his chest.

[“I admitted, I’m Edward Ings. But I don't know any cult leader named Angel or a religion called Peaceful House. Even if parts of my memory are fuzzy, I helped free the hostages and capture the criminals! Hijacking? That’s absurd!”] 

The officer, perhaps growing tired of the argument, cuffed Giraffe's hands and led him out without further explanation. Though Giraffe had shown some glimpses of madness after losing his memory, he had become a reliable companion. Still, it was hard to deny he had likely committed a crime too severe to be atoned for by his recent good deeds. [“I have no interest in any religion!”] Giraffe's desperate cry could still be heard even after the door was shut.

Akira approached Al, whispering near his ear, "Did you manipulate that man's memory?" 

Al nodded honestly. Akira sighed deeply before grabbing Al's arm and whispering, "Get out of this room."

"Everyone's undergoing questioning and medical checks. Your name isn't on the passenger list, and a medical check is out of the question. Come up with any excuse and get out of here. Hide in the bathroom or somewhere," Akira said.

Al replied, "Got it," and, still wrapped in the blanket, stepped out into the hallway after notifying a staff member. Fearing he'd be found quickly if he hid in a nearby restroom, he headed down a darkened hallway, finding a deserted bathroom to slip into.

It was a small restaurant with three stalls. Wearing the sandals borrowed from a staff member, he entered one of the stalls, locked the door, and sat down on the closed toilet seat. If he could just wait until morning, he would turn back into a bat. Though he wasn't sure of the exact time, dawn wasn't too far off. In the distance, he heard the sound of an approaching ambulance. Was someone injured? All the hostages had been safely released, or so he thought... but no, the captain and the boss were still in the cockpit. The hijacking wasn't entirely over yet. But with all of the boss's accomplishments captured and the plane surrounded by SWAT, as long as the boss didn't go berserk and start shooting wildly, the captain would likely be rescued unharmed.

Recalling how he had looked during the evacuation, Al suddenly felt depressed. Wrapping a blanket around his waist instead of wearing pants was embarrassing enough, but ending up in just an apron was mortifying. They had taken so many photos. He could only pray that his image wouldn't end up plastered all over the internet or on TV. If possible, he'd erase all the data taken by the photographers. But that was wishful thinking...

As he brooded in the bathroom, Al heard footsteps approaching. They grew louder and closer. Maybe it was a night-shift security guard patrolling the airport. He thought they'd pass by, but the steps entered the bathroom.

Panicking at the thought of being found, Al caught a whiff of blood. The footsteps stopped right in front of the stall he was hiding in.

“Akira?” he whispered softly, calling out.

[“It’s me, Al.”]

Al hurriedly opened the door. Standing there was Kyiv.

[“When I went to the hostage rescue room, Akira asked me to find you. He said you'd be hiding somewhere and asked me to dress you and take you back.”]

This was an airport where a hijacked plane had landed, and it was the middle of the night. No one without authorization could have entered. Kyiv must have manipulated the memory of some staff member to sneak in.

["Here you go,"] he said, handing Al some clothes. 

[“They're mine, but we're about the same size, so they should fit.”]

Al dressed right there. The underwear, jeans, and leather jacket all fit snugly, but they were a bit tight, being a slim fit. Al usually preferred looser, more comfortable clothes.

[“So, they caught all of the criminals, including the ringleader. Only the perpetrators were injured, and all the passengers are safe. That’s good news, right?”] 

While Al had been hiding in the bathroom, the case had been resolved. Now dressed inconspicuously, Al was finally out of the spotlight. Kyiv handed him a hat.

[“Cover your hair and face. Your dramatic escape from the plane was quite the spectacle. Even I couldn't take my eyes off the TV. Everyone's probably dying to know who you are.”]

["TV?"] Al tilted his head.

[“The hijacking was broadcast live.”]

Al was thunderstruck. He'd noticed the flashes of cameras taking photos, but he had no idea the whole thing had been broadcast live. Just thinking about how his embarrassing appearance had been shown across the entire country made him feel like his body was burning with shame.

[“Even though you were wearing sunglasses, and people couldn't make out your face too clearly, but still—seeing a hostage in nothing but an apron was shocking.”] 

[“It wasn't on purpose!”] 

["Oh? I thought it was a once-in-a-lifetime joke celebrating your freedom from the hijackers.”]

[“No, I had no choice!”]

Kyiv lightly brushed off Al's desperate denial with a simple [“Sure, sure,”] and said, [“It's time to go,”] as he stepped out of the bathroom. Though the hallway was dark, both Al and Kyiv had night vision, so they walked through without trouble.

[“Akira mentioned that all the passengers are undergoing medical checks and police questioning.”] 

As they walked side by side, Al nodded in agreement.

[“Once that's done, it sounds like the airline will put everyone up in a hotel tonight, and tomorrow, they'll be prioritized for flights to LA or Chicago.”]

Kyiv paused for a moment before continuing. 

[“But... Akira might be admitted to the hospital tonight.”]

Al stopped in his tracks, shocked. 

["Hospital? Why!?"] 

Kyiv, started by Al grabbing his chest, raised both hands.

[“When I went to the rescue room, Akira had just had his medical check. He had some injuries on his arm and was severely anemic, so they called an ambulance.”]

The ambulance siren Al had heard while in the bathroom—it had been for Akira. Al was about to run off, but Kyiv grabbed him by the arm.

[“Where do you think you’re going?”] 

[“Where? To the hospital, of course—”] 

[“What good will that do? There’s nothing you can do.”]

Kyiv's words were true. Too true, and they hurt Al's heart.

[“It’s not about what I can or can’t do!”] 

[“The wound on his arm was small, but he's suffering from severe anemia. Did you drink his blood? Why don’t you just let him stay for one night?”] 

When Al fell silent, Kyiv sighed softly.

[“See? This is why I told you. Being half-hearted about everything is what causes trouble for Akira.”]

["Aim..."] 

[“There's no "but." You can't get away with childlike excuses. You're staying at the hotel I arranged for tonight.”]

Together, Al and Kyiv exited through the back door. The front was crowded with reporters holding video cameras. After retrieving the car from the parking lot, Kyiv drove them to a motel not far from the airport. Al sat on the bed with a green bedspread and turned on the TV. A special report on the hijacking was on.

A weeping elderly woman, likely a relative of one of the hostages, cried tearfully in front of the camera, [“Oh God... please save my son.”] The program showed a digest of the event's progression, cutting next to a scene of the elderly woman embracing a man as he stepped off the plane. Then came a shot of Cat leaping from the plane. Her legs were twisted at a strange angle, and she was carried away on a stretcher as soon as she was arrested. It was hard to believe that just a few hours earlier, Al had been at the heart of such chaos—running, dodging bullets, and constantly maneuvering. Everything had happened so quickly.

[“Go ahead, you too.”]

Kyiv emerged from the shower, and Al stepped into the bathroom in turn. Even though he didn't sweat, the warm water washed away the dust from his body, making him feel refreshed. As he watched the water swirl down the drain, his thoughts turned to Akira, who had been taken to the hospital. Akira was usually rough, but when someone was hurt, he became overly gentle. Al looked at his own shoulder in the mirror—there was no trace of the gunshot wound. His legs moved as if nothing had happened. He had healed by drinking the blood of the criminal. His body was inconvenient, yet in some ways, it was useful.

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