PROLOGUE

If you take a long, hard look at human history, you will find that there actually existed a dark creature which subsisted on the lifeblood of their fellow men, drinking up everything that makes them human, eating up the flesh and throwing up the rest. These creatures are called landlords, and Kokonoe Koumori was very thankful that vampires like himself are nothing like them.

To begin with, they didn’t even have any lands at all. They lived in a very unassuming two-story house in Nerima—which was a story way too common for anyone who worked in the Tokyo metropolitan districts—except for the fact that his father had recently gone under.

No, not that kind of under. He wasn't dead. That simply couldn't ever happen. Ever. At all. They're vampires, after all, and vampires were immortal. There existed only one caveat to this, except for Kou and Kou specifically, who had two exceptions instead. Delightful.

“Actually, I've been wondering for a while,” he said as he jumped over the roof of yet another suburban house. The moonlight was scarce tonight, but his eyes could see in the darkness with no problem. “I remember reading that kingship began with land ownership. So they've got this huge plot of land and everyone else was basically living there, so they had to pay him their taxes. But if I'm really the King of the Night, why don't I have my plot of land?”

Jumping three meters ahead of him, just as swiftly, was his little sister—two years his junior, her mind forever sharp and her tongue even sharper. “Honestly, Nii-chan, I don't care.”

“Come on. Won't our job be much easier if I had land? The folks and nightwalkers there can work for me. We don't have to come out and do these patrols every night.”

His sister hissed at him. “Something tells me you're missing the point of our patrols. Again. Care to recite it for me?”

Kou's answer was robotic, like it was premeditated. “Because, as the King of the Night, I must be capable of showing and exerting my power where is deemed necessary so that I can maintain the peaceful coexistence between humankind and the nightwalkers?”

“Great speech, but no.” Chi sighed. Kou had no idea how she could sigh while performing insane acrobatics over the houses they used as steppingstones, but maybe that also came with the territory of being a vampire. “The previous Kings of the Night never had to patrol every night to make that happen, did they?”

Kou pursed his lips. “Dunno. I mean, I can only feel the Great Ancestor every once in a while. I can't really talk to the previous Kings. The Authority doesn't work that way.”

“My question was rhetorical.”

“Oh.”

“Nii-chan, did you drink enough blood today? I could've sworn my classmates were singing praises about how smart you are just the other day. Did your brain sleep at night or something?”

“Maybe? I need my beauty sleep.”

“You're sixteen, what you need is exercise. Also, next time you joke about needing sleep, I'll put you to sleep for real.”

Of course vampires don't need sleep. Any good self-serving vampire worth their salt knows this. Kou knew this, yup, he definitely did—that said, he couldn't let this rare chance slip. “Oh good, maybe then I can finally slack off on patrolling.”

The frustrated little sister only replied with an audible groan.

This wasn't always the case. They had started doing these patrols only very recently, actually. One day, Kou just woke up with the King's Authority embedded in the crevices of his soul, and he just heard the voice of his distant ancestor speaking through whispered dreams, buried deep in the back of his head: “You are not ready.”

Of literally anyone else, Kou himself knew that he was no King of the Night material. The King of the Night ruled over all the yasha, nightwalkers, creatures of the night who skirted realms beyond the material. They functioned on laws very distinct from those that bound humans and existed under laws very distinct from those of physics. The King’s influence was felt all across Japan, from the rowdiest of the oni to the craftiest of the bakegitsune, from the coldest yuki-onna to the brightest hou-ou, from the primeval kudan to the exotic vampires … everyone who lived within the borders of Japan, whose essence was beyond human comprehension, were subjects to the King of the Night. No exceptions.

Kou was just not into that kinda thing.

First off, like Chi said, he's sixteen. Sure, there had been kings who were historically even younger, but did things ever go well for them? Absolutely not. Young kings were always either puppet figureheads or assassination targets. Kou was a healthy high school boy and he definitely wasn't keen on losing his life anytime soon.

Secondly, Japan is huge. Especially so for a boy as young as Kou was. He was still in high school, for what it’s worth, and he wasn’t really sure that being the single monarchical authority over all creatures of the night all across Japan was a great idea for someone who couldn’t even travel the country with his own money yet.

Thirdly, his sister was always the better vampire. Sure, Kou was praised for his brains and looks and everything, and their parents did technically entrust him with holding the fort, but Chi was by leaps and bounds the better vampire between the two. She was the better hunter, the better fighter, and most importantly, she understood the nightwalker common sense—that was something Kou couldn’t ever possibly hope to catch up on.

And, finally, there was the actual reason for these patrols—the one caveat unique only to Kou regarding vampire immortality, and the thing Kou deliberately avoided saying out loud: it’s perfectly fair for discontented people to revolt against their ruler, and the King of the Night was no exception.

Kou was no King material. He himself knew this best. His sister, however, disagreed.

“The scream should be coming from the next intersection,” Chi whispered. She also more carefully found her footing now, making sure her noise was minimal, which definitely signaled that they were close to target. Kou followed her lead.

“What do you think it could be?”

“Whatever it is, I hope it’s not smart.”

A scream. That was really all it took for the two vampires to drop everything else they did and approach. Not that they had to, if Kou were to be fair, because the night was actually the domain of the nightwalkers. It was exactly as their name suggested—the day belonged to man, the night belonged to the nightwalkers. While the sun still touched the sky, any nightwalker attack against humans would’ve been unforgivable and the Enforcers would’ve promptly responded; but that wasn’t the case at night.

At night, any human still out was fair game.

Kou did not have to investigate the scream.

Chi made it clear for him. This was not King business. The King of the Night only had to be there to discipline any nightwalker that tried to test their boundaries, nightwalkers who played tough, and nightwalkers who attempted to break the status quo. The King of the Night was also there to make sure that the nightwalkers didn’t overstep the lines humans had drawn. Humans’ curiosity knew no bounds, and unfortunately, not all nightwalkers knew that their empathy didn’t quite catch up.

However, before he even knew what he was doing, he was already half-flying towards the sound of a woman’s scream as soon as it appeared.

And they arrived.

The intersection wasn’t well-lit, but it was pretty obvious that there was a multi-legged freak of nature suckling something out of a poor woman who just laid there unconscious.

If Kou had to describe it, the thing parasitizing the woman looked like an overgrown mosquito—and, by ‘overgrown’, he meant that the insectoid creature was the size of a small dog.

And it was draining the woman of her life essence.

Kou didn’t think. He jumped, claws out, fangs bared, nary a sound—

In one slash, the mushiyoukai was gone.

That same second, however, a hand grabbed his—it was his sister.

“Are you insane?!” she hissed.

“What? If I left them be any longer, that woman would’ve died.”

“And that’s her risk to deal with! The night belonged to nightwalkers!”

“You wanted me to just watch someone die?”

Chi’s grip on his wrist suddenly grew much stronger. “Don’t yell that out loud.”

That was her serious voice. Kou gulped. “Sorry.”

“Do you even know why we’re doing this?”

Kou took a deep breath. He met Chi in the eye—despite her very clear anger, all he saw there was simple worry. She was afraid. “Because … because I’m not fit to be King.”

“And we need to change that,” Chi said, calming herself down. “We do this patrol so that the nightwalkers can see you. We do this patrol so that they can come directly to you with their issues. We didn’t do this to save individual humans.”

“Well I had to do something!”

“And you could have,” Chi grimly said, “but not like this. Not under direct light. Do you even realize what you just attacked?”

“A mushiyoukai?”

“Precisely. It’s just a small bug, your usual chi eater, it’s not even sentient—but do you know what their presence means?”

Kou fell silent. Mushiyoukai attacks were among the most common forms of nightwalker attacks for a reason. Firstly, they’re nonsentient. They just go and find whatever they can suck the essence out of. Secondly, they’re aplenty—they reproduce very quickly.

In other words, for creatures of the night who just needed some life essence, for those who had to suckle out some chi without attacking humans, they’re the quintessential food. They’re not tasty, but they do the job. They’re easy to hunt and they’re pretty nutritious, what’s not to love?

Slowly, Kou’s head cleared.

Since there’s a mushiyoukai here, it could mean that this was someone’s prey.

A nightwalker could’ve stalked this one, especially since this one was pretty big and scrumptious.

In other words, a nightwalker could’ve seen Kou kill a nightwalker in favor of a human being.

That was not how a King of the Night was supposed to act.

“Do you understand the problem now?” Chi whispered.

The King of the Night was no mere title. It was a seat held together by the King’s Authority, a mark engraved into the very soul of its holder, which was tied to an old Contract, a nationwide ritual at least one hundred years old. The Authority gave the King power over all nightwalkers, but it came at the price of several restrictions.

The most important of which was that, should there be enough growing discontent, any nightwalker may rise up to challenge the King for the Authority.

This had never happened before in the past, but the old Kings—all of them vampires—had always adhered to the nightwalker life. They were brutal. They were ruthless. They were strong.

Kou was anything but.

Choosing to save a human over prioritizing a nightwalker could just feed into whatever discontent there already was.

Losing the Authority was not by itself a bad thing: it was, after all, usually passed down from father to son, so it’s normally lost to begin with. Kou himself would be more than happy to be relieved of the burden. However, if an Authority is challenged, the Authority would prioritize the safety of its bearer, the King. In other words, it had to make sure that its previous holder could not be avenged.

And, in order to do this, the Authority would kill the former King’s remaining kin.

If Kou lost the Authority, not only would he be left exposed, he would virtually kill his sister, his mother, and his father.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Chi sighed, then finally loosened her grip.

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t ever jump in without thinking like this again. Ever. Now let’s go—we can’t be seen here by other nightwalkers.”

“Got it.”

With that, the vampire siblings left.

If Kou lost the Authority, the Authority would kill his remaining kin.

If Kou lost the Authority, not only would he be left exposed, he would virtually kill his sister, his mother, and his father.

Not that Dad is doing that much better to begin with, though, he thought.

His father had recently gone under. No, not that kind of under. He wasn't dead. That simply couldn't ever happen. Ever. At all. They're vampires, after all, and vampires were immortal.

He was comatose. He was unresponsive. The morning Kou woke up with the Authority, he found that all that was left of his father was just a living body, a shell without a soul, and neither magics nor modern medicine could find the answer why.

*