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

Chapter 233: Conversation

That night, Mark was reviewing his research again, trying once more to reduce the side effects of the Vitalis Core. But his thoughts kept circling the same wall.

His knowledge about vampires was still incomplete.

What exactly was a vampire? Was the poison in their fangs what transformed humans work like venom from a viper, slowly altering the body? Or was it more like a virus, rewriting everything from within?

And how did their bodies form a Vitalis Core naturally without collapsing under the strain?

The more he studied, the more questions appeared. The answers remained out of reach.

The night was colder than usual. He lit the fireplace and the oil lamp, the faint orange glow stretching across his scattered papers. Snow brushed softly against the windows.

Then he noticed something.

A shadow shifted at the edge of his vision.

Mark did not panic. He simply turned his head.

A tall figure stood inside his study, robes covering most of his body and face.

Mark did not flinch. He already knew what it was.

Slowly, without making sudden movements, he reached toward the cabinet beneath his desk and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his gun.

"Who is it?" he asked calmly.

The figure stepped into the lamplight and pulled back the hood.

Robert Latros.

"Still studying us?" Robert asked, his tone composed. "I can provide scrolls and records long lost to history. Why not work with me?"

Mark narrowed his eyes and removed his glasses, placing them carefully on the desk.

"I don’t need your help," he replied. "And I don’t work with my enemy."

A faint chuckle escaped him. "I thought vampires couldn’t enter a house without an invitation. So that was just a myth?"

"You dedicate your life to exterminating us," Robert replied smoothly. "You should already know the truth."

He moved closer, picking up one of Mark’s papers without permission.

"This is incorrect. Vampires have four primary bloodstyles, but some possess dual bloodstyles. This case likely has two."

Mark’s eyes widened slightly. "Is that possible?"

"Yes," Robert answered. "Would you like to know more?"

Mark hesitated. Was listening betrayal? Was accepting knowledge from a vampire hypocrisy?

He lifted a hand dismissively. "Never mind."

Robert tilted his head. "If your ego prevents progress, then perhaps you should question your principles as a doctor and a scientist."

The words struck harder than Mark expected.

If answers stood in front of him, refusing them would be foolish. Scientific truth should not care about its source.

"...Fine," Mark said. "I’ll listen."

They talked for hours. Bloodstyles. Evolution stages. The limitations humans assumed were absolute but were not.

It was information neither Caduceus nor the Vampire Hunter Association fully understood. And with it, Mark felt himself inching closer to a greater truth.

Eventually, Robert rose from his seat.

"If you truly wish to learn," he said, "you are welcome at Latros Manor. Our archives hold ancient texts. Some even about the progenitor. You cannot understand us without understanding our origin."

It was tempting.

But it was also dangerous.

He would be walking into enemy territory. And if Robert wanted, he could likely turn him into a vampire on the spot and control him like a puppet.

’What is his bloodstyle again?’

Sensing his hesitation, Robert laughed softly.

"I will not resort to such a low trick," he said. "In the past, I served as one of Prince Rohan’s royal knights. I still follow a knight’s code."

"Prince Rohan was known for cruelty and madness," Mark countered. "Following him does not mean you share his principles?"

"You are not wrong," Robert replied. "My oath was to make him a better prince. That failed."

His gaze drifted toward the window, snow swirling outside.

"So I made him the new Emblem of Enigma."

Mark frowned. "What do you mean? Rohan wanted the Emblem dead. Isn’t that what caused the catastrophe?"

Robert’s lips curved faintly.

"You are naive, Mark. Perhaps because you spend most of your time in rooms like this. Sometimes, men act on ideas they believe are brilliant. Ideas that do not originate from their own minds."

There was something in Robert’s eyes then. Something calculating. Detached. It made Mark’s skin prickle.

"But more importantly," Robert continued, "I am now the Patriarch of Latros. Under my wing, you would be safe."

And just like that, he vanished.

The room returned to silence. That was when Mark understood. Robert Latros was not benevolent.

And yet, there he stood in front of Latros Manor.

Mark’s thirst for knowledge outweighed his fear. More than that, the fear of failing again, of watching his research crumble, and more lives wasted, pushed him forward.

As he stepped toward the gate, the massive iron doors opened on their own, slow and silent, as if they had been expecting him.

He did not hesitate.

The gun rested inside his coat pocket. If necessary, he would use it. Whether on himself or on a vampire.

Latros, like the other Seven Great Covenants, remained shrouded in mystery. No one knew how many vampires officially belonged to them, or how many operated in the shadows.

Mark stepped inside.

The manor’s interior was nothing like he imagined. It was not dark or cold. Instead, it was bright, almost welcoming.

The garden was well-maintained, flowers blooming even under winter’s touch. Warm lanterns illuminated the path.

Then he heard Children’s laughter and it stopped him in his tracks.

’Why were there children here?’

He followed the sound toward the backyard. Under the moonlight, he saw a strange scene.

Robert was seated at a tea table, calm as ever. Across from him sat a woman with long silver hair cascading over her shoulders.

Her crimson eyes matched Robert’s. She held a glass filled with thick red liquid, sipping it with quiet elegance.

Nearby, several children ran and played freely with two young looking vampires who appeared to be twins.

Their dark hair resembled Robert’s. Both of them have heterochromia eyes, gold and crimson. One of the twins sat quietly on a bench, observing her sister playing with the children.

It was unsettling.

"Mark," Robert’s voice cut through the night air. "You don’t need to hide."

Mark stepped out from behind the tree he had concealed himself behind.

The silver-haired woman glanced at him once, unimpressed. She rose gracefully.

"I dislike uninvited guests," she said coolly. "I suppose this concludes our discussion. Your idea is interesting, Robert. I will consider how it may benefit my House."

"Very well, Lady Velstarth," Robert replied. "We shall continue another time."

She turned and left the garden without another word.

Robert then gestured toward Mark.

"Come," he said smoothly. "Let me introduce you to my children."