Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

The forest wasn't peaceful—it felt wrong, like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to snap. Trees stood like frozen giants, their shadows sharp and long under the fading light. Every leaf, every gust of wind whispered of violence. The ground still pulsed with the aftershocks of something brutal.

Maya, Anabelle, and Evelyn weren't just three girls in high school uniforms anymore. No giggles, no playful side-eyes. Just sharp eyes, focused breathing, and that lethal energy wrapping around them like armor. They moved like predators, tearing through the forest with every muscle wired tight, every footfall hitting the earth with purpose.

Warriors first, teenagers second.

They hit the clearing—and the damage was obvious. The whole damn place was soaked in chaos. A few trees were ripped apart like paper, the ground scarred and torn open like something massive had just lost it. The air still stank of burnt ozone and blood, sharp and metallic.

The last fragments of a portal shimmered in the air like broken glass melting away—snap—gone. But not before that sound cut through the silence—a raw, pained cry like his very soul was on fire. A man's voice. Younger. Familiar. Parker!

Maya's heart stopped. Her eyes locked on him instantly—the figure staggering at the edge of the clearing, dark and panicked. He saw them. They saw him.

He didn't stay. He fucking ran. Bolted like fear had wrapped cold fingers around his throat and yanked.

"In your dreams!" Maya's voice wasn't soft. It was fire. Pure fury laced with something colder, meaner. She knew that voice. Parker. That meant this bastard had hurt him.

The world snapped.

The forest shook like the earth itself had been sucker-punched. The trees blurred, sky and dirt flipped, turning into a dizzying mess of chaos—everything upside down for everyone but Maya. She stood still, fury anchoring her in place while the world obeyed her rage.

The guy froze mid-run, eyes wide like a deer staring down headlights. His body flipped unnaturally, yanked upside down and slammed mid-air like an invisible fist had grabbed him. He wasn't just stuck—he was locked. Trapped by a force he couldn't see, couldn't fight.

But then—boom. Continue your saga on My Virtual Library Empire

His figure burst. A cloud of blood ripped through the air, staining the trees as he vanished into nothingness. Gone. Escaped. But not before giving away one ugly secret.

"Vampire…" Anabelle's voice cut through the thick silence, low and sharp. Her eyes burned gold, slits of pitch-black slicing through like a predator's glare. The world snapped back from the upside down chaos.

Evelyn's breath hitched, voice dropping into something tight, serious. "Fuck… This is bad. A vampire didn't just cross into our territory uninvited—he attacked the Original himself. This isn't just bad—it's catastrophic."

Anabelle's mouth twisted, that usual playful smirk gone. "Are we about to witness our first civil war? 'Cause, shit, that feels way too real right now."

Maya didn't even blink. Her eyes were cold steel, voice like a loaded gun. "No war. Not yet. There's no proof—no evidence strong enough to blow this wide open. And remember, the Original's identity? Still a secret except for a few. No one's —for those who know— gonna risk exposing that before he awakens and can protect himself!" Her jaw clenched, tension burning under her skin. "But that vampire's family? They're fucked. Annihilation, full wipeout—whatever it takes for breaking the fucking rules. And I don't think they will be forgiving him fir what he's done."

The silence afterward wasn't peaceful—it was heavy. Anger rolled off them in waves, thick and suffocating.

One thing was clear: that bastard might've escaped tonight, but his problems were just getting started.

****

Far—far from the school, where the whispers of the forest couldn't reach and the scent of battle had long vanished—a thick mist of blood coiled through the air like a living nightmare. It swirled in slow, deliberate waves, a sinister fog that bled crimson against the shadows of a dim, run-down apartment. The place didn't reek of rot and damp air, walls cracked and paint peeling like skin like anyone would've expected.

The mist pulsed once—hard—then snapped inward.

His body reformed. Piece by piece.

First, the outline of his frame—a tall, lean shape, all sharp lines and predatory grace. Pale skin stretched tight over lean muscle, the kind that didn't just hint at strength but screamed danger. His features were striking—no, haunting—cheekbones carved like they were sculpted from marble, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. But it was the eyes that finished the masterpiece of terror—a deep, predatory crimson that glowed faintly even in the dim light, veins of black threading out from the iris like cracks in stained glass.

His dark hair, slick with sweat and blood, fell across his face as he stumbled forward, chest heaving like a man clawing out of a grave.

Anger.

No—rage. Seething, venomous, blood-boiling rage.

"FUCK!"

The word ripped from his throat like a beast's snarl, raw and guttural. His hand shot out, slamming into the wall with enough force to send cracks spider-webbing across the concrete. Pieces of plaster rained down like snow, but it wasn't enough—it didn't cut deep enough to drown the fury howling inside him.

He'd lost her. Naomi.

He'd planned it perfectly. Every goddamn piece of the puzzle laid out, every dollar—so much fucking money—poured into this, just for it all to burn. Gone. Ruined by that bastard.

And then… Parker.

The memory of him—those eyes, that power. He shouldn't have been there. Shouldn't have been able to stop him. And yet, somehow, that little shit had interfered—and escaped. The vampire's breath came in jagged bursts, teeth grinding so hard it sounded like bone shattering under pressure.

And then… the dread.

The Circle.

He could already feel their judgment bearing down on him like a noose tightening around his throat. They'd be coming—soon. For him. For his family. There were no second chances with the Circle. No forgiveness. Just death. Cold, inevitable, and thorough.

"No… no, no, no…" His voice cracked into laughter, sharp and wrong—the kind that didn't belong to someone sane. It was the laughter of a man dangling off the edge of the abyss, already falling but still pretending he had a grip.

He raked his fingers through his hair, blood trailing down his face from cracked knuckles. His reflection in the shattered window grinned back—a monster's grin, wide and feral.

"This isn't over," he whispered, voice like broken glass scraping down flesh. "I'll tear it all down. Parker… Naomi… You think you've won? You don't even know what's coming."

His chest rose and fell with sharp, erratic breaths, eyes wild with the kind of fury that only came from the realization that he was already dead—already doomed.

But if he was going down?

He was dragging them with him!