"You get these three bottles of beast blood, but from now on, stay the hell away from Sophia. If I see you near her again, you're done!"

Clink!

A small pouch hit the table with a loud thud.

Liam Graves tore it open. The smell of beast blood hit him—sharp, rich, intoxicating. The crimson liquid shimmered like molten ruby.

Across from him, Daniel Byrne snorted, nose in the air, decked out in fancy robes. "Look at you. Like you’ve never seen real stuff before."

Liam clutched the pouch close, took a deep breath like it was wine. “Don’t worry, Mr. Byrne. If I ever go near Sophia again, I’ll write my name backwards.”

Then he frowned. “Only thing is, Sophia’s the one closest to my heart…”

Daniel’s face lit with anger. "Liam! What’s that supposed to mean?"

Liam shrugged with a sigh. “Means you gotta pay up more. You seriously don't know how this works?”

Daniel’s fist clenched. “Three bottles not enough? Your family runs a crematorium, what do you even need that much beast blood for? That’s three months’ ration for a regular student!”

Liam stayed calm. “So. More or not?”

Grinding his teeth, Daniel pulled out two more bottles. “Here. Two more. That’s it.”

Liam grinned like a mutt getting treats. “Pleasure doing business, Mr. Byrne. Promise—I’m done chasing after Sophia.”

Daniel sneered, stormed off toward the door. He stopped at the entrance of the small inn, turned back, and shook a fist. “You're lucky this is a civilized society!”

Liam burst out laughing. What a fool.

He was just about to uncork one bottle for a taste, when a familiar, weary voice called out.

"Liam, don’t tell me you tricked Sophia for beast blood again?"

He looked up, scowled. "Ms. Jupp, that’s an insult! I didn’t trick anyone—it was freely given! Everyone here can vouch!"

He swept an arm around at the other diners. Locals. All of them smiled and shook their heads helplessly.

Ms. Jupp came closer and tapped him on the forehead. “Off you go. If Sophia catches you here, you’re finished.”

“Wait, what?” Panic flashed across Liam’s face. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Five-forty!”

“Shit! Her training ends at five-thirty! I’m dead if I don’t bolt now!”

He grabbed up the bottles and ran, shouting over his shoulder, “Ms. Jupp, cover for me! Dad’s waiting for me back home!”

Ms. Jupp watched him flee with a half-laugh, half-curse. “That poor girl. Of all the people she had to know since childhood, it had to be that little devil.”

No sooner had she spoken than Sophia Easton stepped into the inn.

Tall, fit, youthful—her skin glowed with a healthy flush. Her sportswear made her look sharp and energetic. She greeted the room, but her smile dropped fast.

“Mom! Did Liam just leave?”

Ms. Jupp nodded. “Used your name again. Got five more bottles out of it.”

"Agh!"

Sophia stormed to the door and shouted down the street, eyes blazing.

“Liam Graves, you bastard! I swear I’ll kill you!”

Liam was long gone, darting down the lane.

“…Was that Sophia yelling just now...? Damn, that sounded serious…”

“No, no, I must be hearing things.”Liam Graves didn’t slow down till he hit a quiet corner of the street. Then he yanked out that beast blood like it was some rare wine and started gulping it down with greedy snorts. Slurping like a starved beast.

Five whole minutes later, he finally let out a satisfied, “Damn, that hit the spot.”

He pulled out Sophia Easton’s little mirror, licked the blood off the corners of his mouth, and for the first time today, felt alive. Hunger really was a damn nightmare.

Whistling with his bag swinging on his shoulder, he sauntered off toward home, lazy as ever.

Soon, the run-down outskirts greeted him—with that rusted signboard swaying in the wind:

[Southside Crematorium]

Yep. His home sweet home.

He tossed his bag over the yard wall like a pro, spat into his palm, and called out, "Hey!"

Then with one smooth motion—leap, twist, land—he scaled the wall like a friggin’ monkey.

“Wait... where’s my bag?”

“You mean this?”

The second he heard that voice, Liam yelped like a kicked dog and turned to run—but too late. Something clamped tight around his neck. His legs dangled mid-air.

He flashed a grin, teeth and all, desperate to please, “Ma—my sweet mother—kinda... hard to breathe here...”

Hell yeah it was hard to breathe. Felt like someone had hung him up to dry.

But a mother knows her kid. Grace Pengelley wasn’t about to kill him. Probably.

Left hand hauling Liam by the collar, right hand brandishing the rolling pin like a club, she landed blow after blow while cursing nonstop, “Still got the nerve to talk? Sophia just called me—again! You scammed her out of money one more time, didn’t you?”

Liam tried to deny it, but it’s not easy to argue when your neck’s halfway collapsed.

And Grace didn’t stop there. Oh no.

“Your teacher called too! Says all of Southside knows your damn lies—mother’s a drunk, family’s smashed up? Who the hell fed you that nonsense?! You better start talking!”

Liam froze. Dead man walking.

Pushing every last breath out of him, he forced, “Mother—dearest—just listen—I can—”

His voice cracked like dry mud.

Out at the crematorium gate, Edward Graves winced watching the scene. Liam’s eyes screamed for help so loud it echoed. The boy was fighting for his life.

Edward forced a smile under Grace’s death glare. “Honey, honey—he’s turning pale. Just a little scare is enough, right?”

With a loud ‘thud,’ Grace dropped Liam on the ground.

Then she turned her fury to Edward. “You’ve got the gall to talk? You’re the one spoiling him rotten!”

Grace’s tirade was a cannon blast. Edward kept his head down like a soldier under fire.

“What are y’all standing around for? There’s beast corpses waiting for burning. Get going!”

Like rabbits spooked by a hawk, father and son scrambled into the furnace room.

Once inside, they shot each other a grin and got to work without wasting another second.

Edward watched Liam squeeze every last drop of blood out of a beast corpse like he was milking a damn cow, and a strange pain hit him in the chest.

“Son... can’t help but feel sorry for you. Being born to us folks... ain’t easy.”

Liam paused, glanced up solemnly. “Dad. I wanna take a bite of beast meat.”

The warm moment shattered like glass.

Edward nearly fainted from rage.

“Liam! How many times do I gotta say it? Beast corpses—ain’t—food! Try that again and I’ll break your damn legs!”

Liam looked crushed. “But it’s such a waste. Look at that meat—must be filling!”

Edward knew it was time to drill it into the boy again. No mercy.

He jabbed a finger at the wall behind the furnace. “Come on! Read it out loud! What does that damn wall say?!”

Liam shrank his neck and followed his dad’s pointing. “The wall says...”

...Breaking news: the novel just won third place in the Fourth Web Novel Contest! We got ourselves a free annual novel pass! Check out my Douzi and join the event—who knows, maybe luck’s on your side too! Douzi code: 72450251614.