Half-elf prostitute Neia.
Today was truly an unlucky day for her.
Her shift had a hole, so she had to work even though she was supposed to rest.
A drunkard on the street made her throw away a perfectly good outfit.
Her favorite hair accessory was stolen by a tactless coworker.
With all these irritating things happening one after another, it was no wonder her thin nerves were stretched to the limit.
And worst of all, this wasn’t even the end of it.
The cherry on top came at night when she was trying to finish her day.
A handsome customer finally walked into the shop.
He had a decent height and pale skin.
An innocent-looking face with casual attire.
Though she was a quarter elf and thus aesthetically picky, he barely passed as acceptable in her book.
The man seemed to recognize her as a half-elf from her pointed ears and chose her without much hesitation.
But then he suddenly dragged her to a dark alley and started talking about pulling out her fingers.
At this point, Neia was utterly losing her mind.
She wanted to curse the world for why this was happening.
“Seriously… didn’t you say you’d do anything I liked? Then shouldn’t it be fine if I pull out a finger or two? Why so difficult, whore?”
In the grimy dead-end alley, tears streamed down Neia’s face as she lamented her pitiful situation.
Though it was the kind of place where a body or two more wouldn’t raise eyebrows, she definitely didn’t want to die—or get hurt.
‘Please, let this be a dream.’
She prayed.
Though she had never believed in gods her entire life, she fervently wished for one to exist just this once.
Perhaps her prayers reached the heavens.
When she blinked her tear-filled eyes, a dirty bundle of cloth suddenly appeared before her.
“Huh, huh?”
It was baffling.
If it had fallen from the sky, there would’ve been a sound or some wind.
But aside from the man blocking the only exit, the alley was completely enclosed.
No matter how she thought about it, the appearance of the cloth bundle felt unreal—like she had encountered a ghost.
‘Wait… a ghost? Now that I think about it, one of the customers mentioned something like that…’
Thanks to her momentary shock suppressing her fear, Neia managed to think rationally. She recalled a vague conversation she had with a previous customer.
“Huh? Why’s there a bruise on your forehead? …I don’t know.”
“What?”
“Was it yesterday? I was collecting debts as usual when some brat started bothering me. So I beat him up as an example and turned to leave, but suddenly something like a ghost appeared… After that, I don’t remember. Maybe someone hit me on the back of my head with a metal pipe. When I woke up, this bruise was the only thing left on my forehead.”
The customer had scratched his head with a puzzled expression while saying this.
From what Neia knew, this customer was quite strong.
As a werewolf, even without transforming, he could easily snap a normal human in half.
Perhaps it was because of the vivid bruise on his forehead, but Neia understood that this “ghost” was extremely dangerous.
At the same time, she instinctively realized that the small bundle of cloth was somehow connected to the ghost.
“What is this filthy thing? Not a kid… not a goblin either? Know your place before interfering.”
Unlike Neia, however, the man seemed to feel no sense of danger.
Frustrated by the interruption, he tapped his foot impatiently against the ground.
Or perhaps his trembling hands revealed he was struggling to suppress some impulse.
“Those damn rats promised no one would get in here… Fine, just die with him.”
The man’s patience snapped as he muttered to himself, head bowed.
When he raised his head again, his eyes were blood-red.
Neia, having dealt with various races as a prostitute, immediately realized why the man wanted to pull out her fingers.
‘Vampire!’
That’s right.
This man was a vampire—one of the most dangerous beings in Night Haven.
Even in a world where mana was sparse and magic heavily restricted, vampires used blood as a medium to bypass those limitations.
What he wanted was her blood—though diluted, she was still technically an elf.
Pulling out her fingers was just part of his twisted preferences.
“I’ll rip that filthy rag to shreds!”
The man bit his lip until it bled, and Neia reflexively shrunk her shoulders.
She didn’t know how pure-blooded this vampire was, but even the weakest vampire could easily tear apart a mere half-elf like her.
As someone unable to use proper magic, she couldn’t help but be terrified.
“Kehahaha! Die! Dii…”
BAM!
Before the man could finish his sentence, a whip-like crack echoed through the air.
Startled, Neia’s waist shot up and then slumped back down.
Her heart pounded wildly as she saw the man collapse, his eyes rolling back.
“Huh? Eh?”
What just happened?
Neia stared wide-eyed at the man sprawled on the ground.
His strength had completely drained; he lay twitching and drooling.
The dirty bundle of cloth—the ghost—approached the fallen man.
Only then did Neia realize the ghost had subdued him.
‘One hit to take down a vampire…? S-so it really was the ghost!’
Neia screamed silently.
Vampires were already monsters far above her level.
But a ghost that could subdue one in an instant?
No matter how she thought about it, survival seemed impossible for her.
Moreover, she hadn’t even seen how the ghost subdued the man.
By the time she noticed the loud noise, the vampire was already down.
It must have been the same method that took out the werewolf customer last time…
An attack so subtle the opponent didn’t even notice? It was pure terror incarnate.
‘I-I don’t want to die!’
Next, it might be her turn.
While Neia trembled in fear, the ghost finished its business with the man and turned toward her.
Though it drew closer, there was no sound of footsteps.
The more she learned about this mysterious entity, the more terrifying it became.
Finally, it stood right in front of her.
Just as Neia began contemplating drastic measures, a soft hand emerged from the bundle of cloth and handed her something.
“Eeek! Th-this is… a ring?”
The ghost had returned her ring—the very one the man had taken moments before threatening to pull out her fingers.
It seemed the ghost had retrieved it from the man’s possession.
In her dazed state, Neia could only accept it numbly.
‘Wow… what? Their hand feels so soft.’
For a brief moment, Neia marveled at how plush and squishy the ghost’s hand felt.
Confused, she stared blankly at the ring now resting in her palm.
When she looked up again, the ghost was nowhere to be seen.
“A dream…?”
In the alleyway lay the unconscious vampire man, and beside him, a half-dazed Neia.
Though her life had been saved, her mind was filled with inexplicable confusion.
*
Far away, perched on a rooftop railing overlooking towering skyscrapers, I opened the wallet I’d taken from the man I’d knocked out with telekinetic flicks.
‘Hmm… this isn’t much better either.’
Two failures in a row? Was it trendy these days to carry less cash?
Considering how mentally unstable the guy seemed, the results were disappointing.
‘His hands were shaking, and his eyes were bloodshot. He must’ve been a drug addict. Poor guy.’
Even if drugs messed with his mind beyond his control, it was better than creating innocent victims.
I pocketed a few coins for bread and tossed the wallet aside—it felt gross knowing it belonged to a drug addict.
‘Anyway, that was my first time seeing an elf. Her ears were so pointy. Fascinating.’
Rather than dwell on the unsettling image of the drug-addled man, I replayed the elf’s appearance in my mind.
Despite his earlier violent behavior, he’d been trembling in fear until I approached.
To reassure her, I’d returned the ring along with a silent promise that everything would be okay.
‘I accidentally showed my hand, but… whatever.’
Wishing the beautiful elf sister wouldn’t encounter such trouble again, I pulled out the many rings I’d found stuffed in the unconscious man’s pockets.
If there’s no cash, trade goods will do.
Looks like I’ll need to visit a pawnshop today.
