SSS-RANK: Super Extraction System-Chapter 31: [31] The Bloodhound’s Scent

Chapter 31: [31] The Bloodhound’s Scent
The blast door to The Crypt hissed open.
Leon stepped inside. He didn’t look like a student anymore. He was dressed in his black tactical gear, the shadow-steel daggers strapped to his thighs. His face was pale, his eyes hard and unblinking.
Commander Rostova was waiting for him. She stood by the main console, bathed in the blue light of the servers. She looked up as he entered, her expression tight.
"You said you received a package," Rostova said without preamble. "Where is it?"
"It burned," Leon said, his voice flat. "Self-destructed after I read it. But I scanned the seal before it did."
He walked to the table and threw a small data chip onto the metal surface.
Rostova picked it up and slotted it into the console.
A holographic image projected into the air. It was a high-resolution scan of the wax seal Leon had received. The dark red wax, the jagged crest of the bat wing wrapped around a broken crown.
Rostova stared at it.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Leon saw something he had never seen before.
Rostova’s hand trembled.
It was a tiny spasm, just a twitch of her fingers against the console, but for a woman made of steel and secrets, it was a scream. The color drained from her face, leaving her looking grey and old.
"Commander?" Leon asked quietly.
"Turn it off," Rostova whispered. "Turn it off, now."
She reached out and yanked the chip from the slot. The hologram flickered and died.
She stood there, breathing hard, staring at the blank space where the image had been.
"I knew Kain had a sire," Rostova said, her voice shaking. "I knew he came from a high lineage. But this..."
She looked at Leon with wide, terrified eyes.
"Do you know what that crest means, Leon?"
"Malakor," Leon said. "The letter was signed ’Lord Malakor’."
Rostova flinched at the name. She walked over to her chair and sat down heavily, as if her legs had suddenly stopped working.
"Lord Malakor," she repeated. "One of the Three Progenitors."
"I read about them in the archives," Leon said. "Ancient vampires. The first of their kind."
"The archives are fairy tales," Rostova snapped. "They don’t tell you the truth because the truth would cause a panic. The Progenitors aren’t just old vampires, Leon. They are Deva-Realm entities."
Leon frowned. "Deva-Realm?"
"It’s a classification above S-Rank," Rostova explained, rubbing her temples. "The Federation doesn’t publicly acknowledge it because we have no way to fight it. An A-Rank Hunter can destroy a city block. An S-Rank can level a city. A Deva... a Deva is a walking apocalypse. They are gods in the flesh."
She pointed at the empty air where the hologram had been.
"Malakor has been asleep for three hundred years. If he is awake... if he is writing letters..."
She looked at Leon.
"We are all dead."
The room went silent. The hum of the servers sounded like a funeral dirge.
Leon leaned against the wall. He felt the weight of her words. A god. A monster that the Federation couldn’t even classify. And it wanted him.
But strangely, Leon didn’t feel panic.
He felt cold.
The fear that had gripped him in his dorm room was gone. It had burned away, replaced by the icy calm of the Monarch’s Legacy.
"He’s not coming himself," Leon said.
Rostova looked up. "What?"
"The letter," Leon said. "He said he wouldn’t lower himself to hunt a thief. He said he was sending a hound."
Rostova let out a breath, a short, hysterical laugh escaping her lips.
"Of course. Of course he is. Arrogant bastard." She stood up, pacing the small room. "He considers you beneath him. You’re a pest. A mosquito that stole a drop of his blood. He won’t wake fully for a mosquito."
"So he sends a hound," Leon said. "What is a Bloodhound?"
Rostova stopped pacing. Her face grew grim again.
"A Bloodhound isn’t a dog, Leon. It’s a title. In the Evernight Alliance, a Bloodhound is an elite hunter-killer. They are the Progenitor’s personal executioners. They don’t eat; they don’t sleep. They track a target across continents until the job is done."
She turned to the map of the city.
"If Malakor sent a Bloodhound, then the Academy is compromised. The barriers, the guards, the S-Rank faculty... none of it matters. A Bloodhound will bypass them, or kill them."
She looked at Leon.
"You aren’t safe here. Your dorm, the training grounds... it’s all a hunting ground now."
[ SYSTEM ALERT ]
The interface materialized in Leon’s vision. It pulsed with a dark, violet light.
[ BLOODLINE ANALYSIS COMPLETE ]
[ TARGET: LORD MALAKOR ]
[ CLASSIFICATION: DEVA-TIER (GOD-LIKE) ]
[ THREAT: ABSOLUTE ]
[ QUEST UPDATED: HUNT THE PROGENITOR ]
[ SUB-QUEST ADDED: SURVIVE THE BLOODHOUND’S PURSUIT ]
[ OBJECTIVE: THE HUNTER IS COMING. PREPARE OR DIE. ]
And then, a new bar appeared at the bottom of his vision.
[ CORRUPTION METER: 5% ]
It was a thin red line, barely filled. But Leon could feel what it represented.
It was the coldness. The lack of fear. The urge to solve problems with violence. The Monarch’s power was protecting him from the psychic weight of Malakor’s intent, but it was also changing him.
"So I fight," Leon said.
Rostova stared at him. "Did you hear me? This is an elite executioner. Kain was a politician, a lord sitting on a throne. This thing is a weapon."
"I don’t have a choice," Leon said. He pushed off the wall and walked to the table. "You said Malakor considers me a pest. Good. Let him think that. If I run, he wins. If I hide, he finds me. The only way out is through."
He looked at his hands.
"I need to be strong enough to kill it. And then, I need to be strong enough to kill Malakor."
Rostova looked at the boy standing before her.
A week ago, he was a frightened student trying to hide his F-Rank status. Now, he was talking about killing gods.
She saw the change in his eyes. The violet flecks in the iris. The way his shadow seemed to lean toward him, waiting for orders.
He was evolving.
"You can’t fight a Bloodhound here," Rostova said, her voice regaining some of its steel. "Not in the open. You’ll destroy the school."
"I know."
"There are... places," Rostova said hesitantly. "Safe zones. The Federation calls them Sanctuaries."
"Sanctuaries?"
"Ancient bunkers. Pre-Awakening sites reinforced with runic magic that masks energy signatures. Even a Progenitor can’t see inside a Sanctuary."
She pulled up a new map. It showed a series of green dots scattered across the continent. Most were far away.
"If you can survive the Bloodhound," Rostova said, "I can try to get your family into one. Permanent relocation. They would be ghosts. Malakor would never find them."
Leon’s head snapped up. "You can save them?"
"I can try," Rostova said. "But it takes time. Authorization. Bribes. I need a week, maybe two."
"Two weeks," Leon repeated.
He had to survive a legendary assassin for two weeks.
"I’ll buy you the time," Leon said. "I’ll draw the Bloodhound away from the school. Away from the safe house."
"You’re using yourself as bait," Rostova realized.
"I’m the only bait that works. Malakor wants Kain’s blood back. I’m holding it."
Leon tapped his chest.
Rostova walked around the table. She stopped in front of him. She looked at his black tactical suit, at the shadow-steel daggers.
She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was firm.
"Listen to me, Leon," she said quietly.
"You’re not a student anymore. You haven’t been since you stepped into that cathedral."
She squeezed his shoulder.
"The world sees peace. They see walls and heroes. But you and I... we see the cracks. You are a soldier now, Leon. A soldier in a war no one else can see. And this war doesn’t have rules."
Leon looked at her. He felt the weight of her trust.
"I won’t die," Leon said.
"Don’t just survive," Rostova whispered fiercely. "Win. Make them regret waking you up."
She pulled her hand back.
"Go. Prepare. I’ll start the protocols for the Sanctuary. And Leon?"
"Yes?"
"Watch your shadow. The Bloodhound won’t knock on the door."
Leon nodded.
He turned and walked toward the blast door.
As he walked, he checked his status one last time.
[ CORRUPTION: 5% ]
He felt the cold logic of the Monarch settling over his mind like armor.
He wasn’t afraid of the hound.
Because a Prince didn’t fear the dogs. He ruled them.
Leon stepped out of The Crypt and into the hallway. The lights flickered as he passed.
The hunt was on.