My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 200: Creature In The Shadow

Seamus blinked hard as a low groan escaped his throat. His head felt like it was about to split open. His body felt weak and unresponsive, as if the strength had been drained straight out of his bones.

When his vision finally adjusted to the harsh white light, he realized he was sitting on a sofa inside a sterile room, its walls smooth and spotless. He shook his head slowly, trying to clear the lingering haze.

"Shit... what the hell?"

A familiar translucent screen flickered into existence in front of him, floating calmly despite the chaos still buzzing in his mind.

[Automatic protection protocol successfully launched]

[Kill count: 10 people]

He froze. "Kill count?" His brows knit together as his heartbeat spiked. "Ten people? What’s happening?"

Another prompt appeared almost instantly.

[Do you want to view playback?]

Seamus swallowed, then nodded. The system responded at once, projecting a new screen that resembled an old video recording, slightly grainy but clear enough to recognize faces.

He saw himself lying unconscious on an operation table. Two figures stood nearby, dressed in white coats. Their voices carried clearly.

"It’s good you brought them here," one of them said.

White hair, golden eyes. Seamus recognized him immediately as a vampire.

A familiar voice replied, light and casual. "Ah, don’t flatter me, Dr. Mark. I just gave them an invitation to our little party. They took the bait easily."

It was Ben. Seamus felt his jaw tighten as the recording continued.

"What about the old man?" Mark asked calmly.

Ben sighed, almost bored. "Too old-fashioned. He couldn’t see the value of this opportunity." He shrugged. "So I killed him and extracted his DNA like you requested."

Seamus’s fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into skin. The realization slammed into him. The fire, the invitation, the timing. It had all been deliberate for him and the rest coming into this place.

This was a set up trap. He should have realized it.

"You work efficiently," Mark said, his smile thin and empty. "If only the rest of Caduceus shared your clarity. Then we wouldn’t need hollow clones."

Ben looked proud, almost glowing with satisfaction, while Mark’s smile never reached his eyes.

Seamus muttered under his breath, barely aware of it. "That bastard... I should’ve known." His chest rose and fell more sharply. "So it was all a setup."

The recording went on.

"So this is it," Ben asked. "Do you think it will replicate the Progenitor’s effect?"

"We don’t know yet," Mark replied. "But their blood might have promising resonance. It might be the missing piece we need."

Mark lifted a scalpel, wanting to open his chest. That was when the scene shifted abruptly. Seamus’s body on the table reacted. His hand snapped up, gripping Mark’s wrist with unnatural strength as his eyes opened, empty and cold.

He sat up in one smooth, rigid motion and pulled a long sword from his spine.

The blade flashed. Mark dodged in time, but Ben wasn’t fast enough. His body was cut cleanly in half, collapsing in a spray of blood.

Alarms blared as armed personnel rushed in, only to be cut down one after another, frozen and slain without mercy.

Then Mark raised a single hand.

Everyone stopped.

As if pulled by invisible strings, the remaining personnel turned around and left, their movements vacant and obedient. Mark chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"As expected," he said. "It won’t be that simple." He stepped back. "But don’t worry. We always adapt."

The screen crackled, the image distorting into static before disappearing entirely.

[Playback finished]

Seamus stared at the empty air where the recording had been, his breathing slow and heavy.

He killed ten people and he didn’t even remember. His body had acted without him, moving on instinct alone, protecting him while his consciousness was absent.

"So that’s what you did," he murmured, a dangerous calm settling behind his eyes. "Good."

His gaze sharpened as the truth settled deeper. The system was not here simply to make him stronger. It existed to keep him alive at all costs.

’I wonder why this protocol never activated when I collapsed in Corvane,’ he thought.

Was the danger here greater than before, or was it something else entirely? Something related to the Progenitor, perhaps.

He tried to probe the system, to ask about the trigger conditions, but it remained silent, offering no answers and no guidance on how to activate the automatic protection again.

The sliding door opened without warning.

A familiar presence entered the room, calm and unhurried. It was the young vampire doctor probably having the highest authority in this place, the one who ruled the Red Zone itself.

Seamus’ eyes dropped to the name tag on the lab coat.

"Mark Latros," he whispered.

Mark smiled faintly and took a seat across from him, pouring a brown liquid into a glass.

"How convenient. It saves us both the trouble of introductions," he said, sliding the glass forward. "Drink. It is clean. I heard humans love this devil liquor."

He said ’human’ as if he was unfamiliar with it. Like it was a concept even when that man was supposed to be a human in the past.

But Seamus ignored it, gripping his bone sword as his muscles tensed. "What do you want," he demanded, voice low. "Where are my friends."

Mark leaned back against the sofa, his expression almost bored. "I’m curious. All three of you ask the same questions. I suppose youth comes with predictable priorities."

"Don’t waste my time," Seamus snapped. "Answer me."

"They are alive," Mark replied easily. "You need not panic. They are simply participating in my experiment."

His eyes gleamed as he snapped his fingers.

Multiple screens ignited in the air before Seamus. Dylan appeared first, bloodied and exhausted, fighting creatures that clawed out of the darkness.

Diane was shown in another place entirely, her movements sharp but desperate as she battled something unseen. Both were holding on by sheer will.

Then there was Maria.

She was trapped inside a room filled with cocoons, struggling against layers of spider silk that tightened with every movement.

Seamus surged forward, seizing Mark by the collar. "Let them go," he growled. "You’ve seen what I can do. I can kill you right here."

"Oh, I am certain you can," Mark replied calmly, not resisting at all. His voice carried no fear, only mild disappointment.

"I was hoping you would feel excitement. If they survive, they will become stronger. More useful to you."

Seamus’ grip tightened. "Stop talking like I wanted to use them. They are my friends. I don’t care if they are useful or not."

Mark pushed him back with a single motion. The force sent Seamus crashing into the sofa, restraints snapping around his wrists and pinning him down.

The room shifted as transparent walls formed around him, transforming the space into an observation chamber. On the other side of the glass, the images of his friends fighting remained painfully clear.

Mark stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back. "You should already understand. My abilities mirror those of Lady Crow and Roanna, but mine are refined, complete, and stable."

The golden light in his eyes was sharp and dissecting, as if Seamus were already laid open on a table.

"I extended the same offer to your friends," Mark continued. "You would have refused just as quickly. That is why I saved my proposal for last."

He turned, smiling faintly. "I will revive Viviane if you join Latros."

Seamus froze, then burst into laughter, sharp and humorless. "You think you can kill Isolde."

Mark tilted his head. "What makes you think I meant her."

Seamus’ laughter stopped. "Then who."

"There is another core," Mark said calmly. "A compatible one. Using it, I can revive Viviane within a week."

"That’s impossible," Seamus snapped. "Her only mother core is Isolde."

"Isolde was not born a vampire," Mark replied. "No one is. Vampirism follows inheritance rules. The one who turns you becomes your parent."

Seamus’ eyes narrowed. "Stop circling. Say it plainly."

Mark met his gaze without blinking. "The ’grandmother’ core. I know who turned Isolde. Using her core, Viviane can be restored."

He smiled softly. "Now tell me, Seamus. Are you interested?"

Seamus fell silent.

If Mark’s words held even a fragment of truth, then it was technically possible to repair Viviane’s core. They came from the same genetic origin, the same lineage. The logic was cruel, but it existed.

His thoughts wavered despite himself. Isolde’s promise had always been distant, vague, something built for the long run.

Waiting meant enduring, and he was tired of waiting. Yet Latros was no better, perhaps worse. Everything they built stood upon sacrifice, upon piles of innocent bodies that would never be named or mourned.

If he accepted their offer, he would be choosing to stand atop those corpses.

Was he truly prepared to do that?

His fingers curled into his palms as he exhaled slowly. "Tell me the plan," he said at last. "No, not yours. Latros’ plan. Why do all of this."

Mark’s expression shifted into something unreadable as he turned away, walking toward the glass and watching the figures on the other side fight for their lives.

To him, they might as well have been lab rats, moving pieces in a controlled environment.

"For me," Mark replied calmly, "it is the pursuit of knowledge. Latros does not care about process or ethics. The only thing that matters is the outcome."

He paused, then smiled faintly. "Science without morals."

"And for Latros," he continued, turning back toward Seamus, "it is power and control. Is it not strange to you that we are the strongest race, yet we are forced to hide in the shadows."