The ninth day since the Divergence began quietly.
Morning commuters filled sidewalks.
Traffic rolled steadily through intersections.
Coffee shops served customers before work.
Children walked toward schools carrying backpacks almost too large for them.
Life had settled into something resembling routine.
Not because people had accepted the world.
Simply because life refused to stop.
Bills still arrived.
Jobs still existed.
People still became hungry.
The world continued turning.
Humans, for the most part, continued living their lives.
They weren't the ones changing.
They weren't the ones waking with pointed ears, empty crimson eyes, or tails.
They remained ordinary.
Which meant they still had ordinary responsibilities.
Ethan Vale watched them from the sidewalk.
Unlike everyone passing him...
He wasn't particularly interested in the morning.
Nor the weather.
Nor the quiet normality surrounding him.
His attention remained elsewhere.
His phone rested comfortably in one hand.
His latest upload continued accumulating views.
The numbers climbed.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
Then more.
His lips curled into a satisfied smile.
At least...
Until he remembered why the video wasn't performing even better.
His expression flattened.
The crimes.
People had actually listened.
After his videos encouraging viewers to remain vigilant and expose "vampire influence," numerous reports had appeared across the country.
Individuals arrested for assault.
Robbery.
Vandalism.
Threats.
Each claiming vampires had somehow made them do it.
Exactly as he'd predicted.
The accusations had spread.
The internet had exploded.
People argued endlessly beneath every article.
Some believed them.
Some laughed at them.
Some demanded investigations.
Others dismissed the entire thing.
The discussions alone had been enough to boost Ethan's popularity again.
He'd made several follow-up videos.
Each one asking questions.
Each one carefully avoiding outright statements.
"Could vampires really influence people?"
"Why are so many suspects saying the same thing?"
"Are authorities covering something up?"
He never claimed certainty.
He merely...
Asked.
Questions attracted viewers.
Viewers generated engagement.
Engagement generated income.
It was remarkably simple.
Still...
He sighed.
The crimes had been disappointingly small.
Petty theft.
Simple assaults.
Property damage.
Arguments that escalated too far.
Nothing...
Significant.
Nothing memorable.
Nothing shocking enough to dominate headlines for weeks.
Ethan frowned.
He certainly wasn't going to risk his own life.
He wasn't stupid.
He had absolutely no intention of confronting vampires himself.
That wasn't his job.
His job was talking.
Filming.
Guiding the conversation.
Others could take risks.
He preferred the safety of a camera.
Still...
He couldn't deny a faint irritation.
If someone had done something truly extraordinary...
Something impossible to ignore...
His channel would have exploded.
Millions of views.
Interviews.
Television appearances.
Perhaps even national recognition.
Instead...
He was discussing vandalism.
His shoulders rose and fell with a quiet sigh.
"What a waste."
He slipped his phone into his pocket.
People continued walking around him.
A young mother pushed a stroller across the intersection.
An elderly couple waited patiently at a crossing.
Several office workers hurried toward a nearby train station.
Then...
Three werewolves walked past.
Two women.
One man.
Their ears twitched occasionally.
Their tails moved lazily behind them.
One of the women laughed at something the man had said.
None of them looked toward Ethan.
None of them seemed interested in him at all.
He watched them disappear into the crowd.
Werewolves.
Strange.
Certainly.
Dangerous?
Probably.
Yet...
They still felt...
Human.
It was difficult to explain.
Even after transforming, there remained something comfortably familiar about them.
Their expressions.
Their movements.
Their voices.
Apart from the ears and tails...
They still looked like people.
Vampires were different.
Vampires looked...
Wrong.
Empty crimson eyes.
Pointed ears.
Visible fangs.
Perfectly still expressions when they weren't speaking.
Beautiful in a way that almost became unsettling.
People looked at vampires and immediately understood something had changed.
Fear did the rest.
That was why they'd become so useful.
Werewolves didn't generate nearly the same attention.
Vampires did.
People wanted explanations.
Warnings.
Predictions.
Heroes.
Villains.
Every story needed both.
Ethan had simply recognized which role attracted viewers.
He resumed walking.
Traffic streamed steadily beside him.
He glanced toward the road without really seeing it.
The problem...
Was that reality refused to cooperate.
The vampires weren't doing enough.
He frowned.
Not enough for the image he'd spent days creating.
They donated blood.
Worked with police.
Attended government meetings.
Appeared on television speaking calmly about coexistence.
It was...
Inconvenient.
His fingers slipped into his jacket pockets.
Sooner or later...
Something had to happen.
Something genuinely terrible.
Otherwise...
People would slowly calm down.
Fear would fade.
Conversations would shift elsewhere.
His audience would shrink.
His relevance would disappear with it.
He'd built his recent popularity painting vampires as an emerging threat.
If they stopped looking threatening...
He either had to abandon that position...
Or disappear alongside it.
Neither option appealed to him.
He crossed another intersection.
His apartment building stood only a few blocks away now.
He thought about everything he'd read online the previous evening.
Hunters.
The word alone had become strangely popular.
Groups of ordinary people purchasing silver jewelry.
Melting it down.
Casting crude bullets.
Making knives.
Posting photographs online.
Some even posed wearing camouflage while holding hunting rifles.
Declaring themselves humanity's defenders.
Humanity's shield.
Humanity's last hope.
Ethan smiled faintly.
Not because he admired them.
He didn't.
He barely knew any of them.
For all he knew, most would lose interest within a week.
Others might never leave their homes.
Some were undoubtedly pretending.
It hardly mattered.
Heroes.
People liked heroes.
Even more...
People liked believing they could become one.
In a world where monsters existed...
Someone would inevitably decide they should become monster hunters.
It was almost predictable.
He chuckled softly.
Whether they actually hunted anything...
Was almost irrelevant.
Stories mattered.
Perception mattered.
If one group genuinely confronted a vampire...
He could tell that story.
If they failed...
He could still tell it.
If they succeeded...
Better.
If they never did anything at all...
He could simply interview them.
Ask why they volunteered.
Why they stood ready.
Why they were willing to protect ordinary people.
The comments would practically write themselves.
"Finally, real heroes."
"Someone has to protect us."
"The government won't."
He smiled a little wider.
Loyal audiences weren't built solely on truth.
They were built on identity.
If someone believed they were part of humanity's last defense...
They'd keep coming back.
Every upload.
Every livestream.
Every interview.
Every warning.
His audience wouldn't merely watch him.
They'd trust him.
Trust became influence.
Influence became opportunity.
Opportunity became power.
His apartment building came into view.
He slowed slightly while approaching the entrance.
Power.
The word lingered pleasantly.
Not political power.
Not yet.
Influence.
Recognition.
Being listened to.
Being quoted.
Being invited onto panels.
Being asked for opinions.
That kind of power.
He wanted all of it.
The Divergence hadn't merely transformed people.
It had created a stage.
Everyone was trying to decide their role.
Scientists.
Politicians.
Military officers.
Police.
Doctors.
Religious leaders.
Vampires.
Werewolves.
Hunters.
Everyone.
Ethan had chosen his role almost immediately.
He wasn't going to become a soldier.
Or a scientist.
Or a politician.
He'd become the voice people listened to.
The one asking uncomfortable questions.
The one willing to say what others supposedly wouldn't.
He climbed the stairs to his apartment.
His footsteps echoed softly through the hallway.
A neighbor greeted him.
He smiled politely.
The door closed behind him.
Silence welcomed him home.
He set his keys onto the kitchen counter.
His phone vibrated.
Another notification.
More comments.
More subscribers.
Another interview request.
He smiled.
The afternoon schedule began forming in his mind.
Record a response to the latest reports.
Discuss the growing number of Hunters.
Speculate on why authorities seemed unwilling to act more aggressively.
Perhaps invite someone claiming to organize one of the hunting groups.
That would attract attention.
He walked toward the living room window.
Outside, people continued living ordinary lives.
Cars stopped at traffic lights.
Someone laughed on the opposite sidewalk.
A delivery truck pulled into a nearby loading bay.
It looked...
Peaceful.
Normal.
Ethan rested one hand against the glass.
"In a world without monsters..."
He smiled to himself.
"...everyone wants to be the hero."
His reflection stared back at him.
"But now there are monsters."
The smile widened.
"Or at least..."
"...people believe there are."
His eyes lingered on his own reflection.
He wasn't so different.
He wanted fame.
He wanted influence.
He wanted people to remember his name.
If vampires became the enemy...
Then humanity would need voices willing to stand against them.
Voices willing to lead.
Voices willing to tell people what they should fear.
What they should believe.
He intended to be one of those voices.
Not because he hated vampires.
Hatred was exhausting.
No...
He simply recognized opportunity when he saw it.
And he had no intention of letting it pass him by.
───
John stood over the workbench.
The silver knife resting atop it no longer glowed.
Minutes earlier it had carried enough heat to discolor the air above it.
Now it sat quietly.
Cooling.
Waiting.
He couldn't stop looking at it.
A grin slowly spread across his face.
His pulse was faster than usual.
Not from fear.
From anticipation.
Nine days.
It had only been nine days since the Divergence.
Nine days since vampires had appeared.
Nine days since everyone had started pretending coexistence was somehow possible.
He reached down.
His fingers stopped just above the blade before deciding against touching it.
Not yet.
"It came out well."
Someone beside him laughed.
"Looks expensive."
John shrugged.
"It'll be worth it."
He believed that.
Completely.
Every report he'd read.
Every discussion online.
Every rumor.
Every interview.
It all pointed toward one conclusion.
Silver worked.
Daylight trapped them indoors.
Vampires healed.
They were fast.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
But they weren't invincible.
People had simply become too frightened to test them.
John wasn't.
He wasn't reckless.
At least...
He didn't think so.
He simply believed someone had to be first.
The government wouldn't.
The military refused.
Police protected vampires as often as humans.
Politicians talked endlessly about coexistence.
Someone had to act.
Why not him?
If today succeeded...
History would remember the first vampire killed by ordinary citizens.
His stomach tightened.
Excitement.
Not anxiety.
He imagined interviews.
Newspapers.
Television.
People remembering his name.
John.
The first Hunter.
The workshop buzzed with conversation around him.
There were nearly a dozen people.
None wore matching clothing.
One man wore heavy work boots and denim.
Another had hunting camouflage.
Someone else had arrived wearing jeans and a hoodie beneath a protective vest.
The room looked more like a gathering of neighbors than anything organized.
Silver-colored bracelets clinked softly as one man adjusted them.
Another checked the fit of a thick chain around his wrist.
"I heard silver burns them."
"I heard it weakens them."
"My cousin said they can't even touch it."
Rumors.
John had stopped caring where most of them originated.
Enough people repeated them that they felt true.
Across the room stood Frank.
Gray hair.
Weathered face.
Broad shoulders that age hadn't entirely diminished.
Frank rarely spoke unless necessary.
Nobody had confirmed what he'd done before retirement.
Nobody really needed to.
He carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had spent years making difficult decisions.
John walked toward him.
"You ready?"
Frank looked up.
"As ready as I'm going to be."
John smiled.
"Didn't think you'd hesitate."
"I didn't."
Frank's voice remained even.
"I said ready."
Not eager.
John laughed.
"You worry too much."
Frank didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his eyes moved across the workshop.
People laughing.
Checking equipment.
Talking over each other.
Looking...
Excited.
"They're taking this lightly."
John folded his arms.
"They're motivated."
"They're enthusiastic."
"They've convinced themselves this'll be easy."
John shrugged.
"It should be."
Frank's expression remained unreadable.
"I hope you're right."
Someone near the garage door clapped loudly.
"Come on!"
"We're making history today!"
Several voices answered.
Cheers echoed through the workshop.
Someone raised a fist.
Another laughed loudly.
The excitement spread quickly.
John found himself laughing with them.
He wanted this feeling to last.
He wanted people to remember it.
The moment before everything changed.
Outside, vehicle doors opened and closed.
People climbed inside.
John slid into the passenger seat of an aging pickup.
Before the driver started the engine, John unlocked his phone.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
Then he pressed the familiar button.
LIVE
The broadcast started.
For a few seconds...
Nothing happened.
A handful of viewers joined.
Comments began appearing.
"What's this?"
"You're live early."
"Morning."
John smiled toward the camera.
"I've been talking for days."
He adjusted the phone slightly.
"And today..."
He paused deliberately.
"...I'm finally going to do something."
The comments accelerated.
"What do you mean?"
"What are you doing?"
"Clickbait."
John chuckled.
"Is it?"
He slowly turned the camera.
The livestream captured the inside of the pickup.
Then the people climbing into nearby vehicles.
Then several silver-colored blades resting on a blanket in the back seat.
The chat exploded.
"Wait..."
"Is this real?"
"No way."
"You're serious?"
John faced the camera again.
"I've never been more serious."
The viewer count climbed.
Hundreds.
Then more.
Comments poured upward too quickly to read comfortably.
Some urged him onward.
Some called him brave.
Others called him insane.
One message remained on screen long enough for him to read.
Don't do this.
Another followed.
You're attacking someone who hasn't done anything.
John's smile disappeared.
He looked directly into the camera.
"Interesting."
He leaned back.
"So many people suddenly concerned."
Another message.
Leave her alone.
John scoffed.
"Her?"
He laughed once.
"Funny."
His tone sharpened.
"So it's 'her' now."
"Not a vampire."
"Not a blood-drinking monster."
He shook his head.
"I guess some of you have already decided."
More comments appeared.
You're going to prison.
Call the police.
Stop before someone gets hurt.
John rolled his eyes.
"There it is."
He gestured toward the screen.
"Every single time."
He leaned closer to the phone.
"You know what I think?"
"I think some of you have forgotten which species you belong to."
Silence filled the truck except for the sound of the engine.
John continued.
"You'd rather defend vampires than your fellow humans."
"You call us dangerous."
"You call us extremists."
He shook his head again.
"No."
"We're doing what should've been done the moment vampires appeared."
His jaw tightened.
"Somebody has to protect humanity."
The driver remained silent.
Frank, seated behind them in another vehicle visible through the rear window, simply watched the road.
The convoy continued forward.
The viewer count climbed relentlessly.
Thousands now.
John could hardly believe it.
He'd never seen numbers rise so quickly.
His heart beat faster.
This was it.
This was the moment.
The moment people would remember.
Eventually the convoy slowed.
The vehicles rolled to a stop.
John stepped out.
The livestream briefly dipped toward the ground before he steadied it.
Fresh air.
Trees.
Birdsong.
The forest stretched around them.
Ahead, separated from the road by a clearing, stood a solitary house.
Ordinary.
Quiet.
Nothing about it suggested danger.
Nothing about it looked monstrous.
It was simply...
A home.
John stared at it.
Then lowered the phone for a moment.
He fastened the silver knife securely at his waist.
Checked that his holstered pistol sat where he expected.
Took one slow breath.
When he raised the phone again, the comments were moving faster than ever.
Police have been called.
Please leave.
Turn around.
Mixed among them were others.
Finish it.
Show everyone they can die.
John smiled.
"Some of you finally understand."
He slowly turned the camera toward the house again.
"We confirmed a vampire lives there."
His voice carried quiet certainty.
"If everyone had acted when they first appeared..."
He looked back into the lens.
"...we wouldn't be where we are now."
Another comment flashed by.
This is murder.
John shook his head.
"No."
"It's prevention."
He looked toward the others.
No one spoke.
Each person simply exchanged glances.
Small nods passed between them.
Whether they came from confidence...
Or the need to reassure themselves...
John couldn't tell.
He didn't think it mattered.
He took one step forward.
The others moved with him.
Together, they left the roadside behind and began walking across the clearing toward the isolated house.
Behind them, the livestream continued broadcasting to thousands of strangers.
Ahead of them, the morning remained unnervingly quiet.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter