Nuri stopped doing-- whatever it was she was doing. She led Shay back down the stairs and eventually to a place that looked like a kitchen.

It wasn’t a regular kitchen, of course. It was a gigantic, rich-person kitchen, with a huge pantry, two stoves, and way more than two refrigerators.

After what Shay had been through, she wanted to cry. But... she stayed strong.

She was... mad? No, that wasn’t the right word for it. The evening was a rollercoaster of emotions. And with everything over, she was exhausted.

“I saw... way too many naked people tonight...”

“Yeah, think of it like... anatomy enrichment!” Nuri said. “You gotta know these things.”

“I’d rather read about them in a book... or-- y’know, with someone I love... in private, I guess.”

“LovvVve~” Nuri groaned. “Bro, you don’t have to love someone to put something up their butt. Why are you being such a virgin, Shay?? This is how it is. This is our world.”

She said it like... it was a gentle scolding-- like maybe she wasn’t entirely happy about the way things were.

Shay sighed before looking up and forcing herself to smile.

“I... kinda don’t want to live in a world like this.”

It went against her mission to say something like that-- something that directly attacked Nuri’s way of life. But... Shay couldn’t pretend she was okay with everything she’d seen.

“I need to call someone,” she added. “I need to go, Nuri-- I’m sorry. Can you show me where the phone is, please?”

Nuri’s expression fell. She looked more disappointed than upset, though-- so maybe their friendship hadn’t 100% imploded just yet.

“If you’re trying to get home, I’ll drive you,” Nuri said-- “Or, actually, I’m kinda fucked up still. But I can have one of my guys take you.”

That was sweet of her. But Shay really needed someone she could vent to. She was fairly sure she could get ahold of Raia...

Nuri suddenly gasped in surprise. “Wait a sec! You’re gonna call your CEO to come get you, right? Yeah, that’s fine, then!”

Oh! That-- that was an even better idea! Shay felt dumb for not thinking of that, herself.

The number one reason she went to Nuri’s party was because she was worried about Tyvan. Only after everything wound down did she realize that she had zero proof that he was in trouble-- and just as much proof that he was with Nuri. If Shay had explained herself to Raia or tried harder to get in contact with Tyvan, the whole situation could have been avoided.

Maybe.

...Probably.

Nuri called out to someone in Korean, and-- oh, the tall guard came. They shared a short conversation. And in that conversation, there was one, single, recognizable English word.

‘Marquess.’

Wwwwweird.

Nuri didn’t seem happy to hear that. She spit out a string of Korean that was probably 50% cursing.

Shay breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Marquess’ probably had nothing to do with the zombie cosplayer she beat up.

“Hey, Shay,” Nuri said, “did you fuck up one of my guys? --like hit him with a fucking ladder?”

Aw, rats.

“Y-yeah, I did,” Shay said, feeling horrible about using her powers for evil. “I’m sorry, Nuri...”

“Nah! Don’t be,” Nuri grinned. “I’mma go check on him real quick. And... I also gotta talk to someone I kinda don’t actually wanna talk to. But meh. Daegeum here will get you the house phone.”

The tall guy whose specific-centimeter-height Shay had forgotten gave a polite bow.

Nuri suddenly clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s right. Your guy’s a foodie, right?”

“Yeah,” Shay said, laughing an uncomfortable laugh. “I... was actually thinking of cooking something for him... y’know, to thank him for the date we had.”

“Awww, okay,” Nuri nodded. “Baby steps. Good for you.”

She gestured to the rest of the kitchen. “Take a look around. I won’t let you leave unless you at least take something with you. This kitchen’s stocked with shit that’d make a Michelin Star chef cream of mushroom-- if you’re picking up what I’m putting down.”

Shay giggled at that. It was crude. It was colorful. And it was very Nuri.

“Shay, I didn’t mean to scare you tonight,” Nuri said. “Really.”

“I know... It’s all my fault. I’m really s--”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Noooo~!” Nuri said, “Don’t be sorry. I should’ve known that this’d be... a culture shock? And you’ve actually been really cool despite-- y’know.”

She snickered to herself. “And only one casualty? I should be thankful!”

Shay glanced away. She had... forgotten about her status as a theoretical heiress to the Song family. If she was really offended, she could have probably caused Nuri lots of problems.

Grandpa wouldn’t do anything crazy like that without a really good reason... but it was still cool for Nuri to mention that sort of thing.

Nuri left. Behind the kitchen door, the drug-and-music-filled Rockford Hills party was still going on, regardless of Shay’s feelings.

Shay got a phone, (courtesy of Mister Daegeum,) and a few minutes later, she got in contact with Tyvan. He was, as expected, not at Nuri’s party. Tyvan agreed to pick her up-- without question? That easy? It was a bright side to an overall sketchy evening.

Then... Nuri said she had to take something from the kitchen before she was allowed to leave. Shay took a quick glance around... looking for something hopefully small and not too inconvenient to take. Oh, and it would be nice if she could share whatever she got with Tyvan.

Shay thought about asking Daegeum for ideas. He was probably Korean, so he probably understood Korean gift-taking etiquette-- assuming that was a thing. He... didn’t look too interested in talking, though. He guarded the door, as still as a statue.

Hm...

...Kimchi?

Yes.

Tyvan liked kimchi. He had a kimchi fridge in the office break room. There was so much garlic in those plastic boxes that the smell alone could defeat a vampire.

It wouldn’t be the same. Like a lot of Asian dishes, kimchi was different depending on the family making it or the province it was made in. And that stuff was prepped in big batches! So there were probably tons of jars or plastic boxes or even bags just lying around.

(Also, all of Shay’s hopes were based on the somewhat racist assumption that Nuri Park actually had kimchi somewhere in her kitchen.)

Using her powers of observation, Shay spotted a small, half-sized fridge tucked away in the corner. She hopped over to it. She sat down on her heels and she opened it up.

And. she found.

Blood.

Huh?

Bags of blood... professionally labeled, with bar codes, tiny text, and grading letters blown up enough to be easily read from a distance.

Was that... for cooking?

No-- food-blood didn’t come in packages like that, though?

They had grades on them. Did that mean... all that... was human blood?

----------------------------------------

In another place, Montgomery Jiang was driving fast in his Elegy-- as usual, and as he preferred.

Different from usual, he also had two passengers, two guys he could have gone without.

His tall, blue-haired coworker leaned forward over the center console. He wore dark sunglasses, even at night. He was... visually-impaired.

“Rider!” he said, “I like your car, man. It’s awesome!”

“...Thanks, man.”

--one guy, he could have gone without, then.

Bishop was alright. A lot cooler than the idiots Monty usually hung out with.

The second passenger-- the asshole in the passenger seat, turned his head with his usual, displeased frown.

“Bishop. Put on your safety belt.”

His expression didn’t change, but the annoyance in his voice was plain as day. It was like that guy woke up every day, pissed as hell.

“Uh, it is on,” Bishop said.

That guy was so tall and the front seats were naturally so far back that he could probably lick the windshield, even buckled in.

Monty didn’t have to look. He knew everything that went on in his car, including the fact that Bishop was already strapped in.

“Boss?” Bishop said, “did you look back just now?”

“‘Trust but verify’ is a maxim that’s served me well,” Boss said, making sure to sound as much of an ass as possible.

Boss suddenly leaned forward. He was looking at... ah.

“Rider.”

“I see it,” Monty said.

Rider was a good nickname-- or was it his title?

Looking back at everything, working for Tyvan Valorum hadn’t been too bad overall. It was a different life, living for something that was bigger than just one person.

The white, unmarked van they’d been following had pulled into an alleyway. Monty weaved through traffic and he got honked at by some dumbass who didn’t belong on the GOD-DAMNED ROAD. There were at least ten inches of space between his Elegy and their piece of junk!

Fucking idiot.

Monty pulled up behind. The driver was stuck in a dead end, between a brick wall and a trio of guys about to ruin his day. Sucks to suck.

Boss popped out and started walking. Monty got out of the car-- and he remembered Bishop. He pulled his seat forward, grabbed Bishop’s arm, and started pulling. How did that guy even get in to begin with?

Boss started pounding on the van’s passenger window.“Open the back!”

He started waving his fucking PISTOL that he pulled out of fucking NOWHERE.

An old, Korean-looking guy got out and started speaking terrified kimchi. Thankfully, though, Boss' gun transcended language barriers. It didn’t take long for the driver to start unlocking the van’s rear doors with shaky hands.

As expected, something inside really wanted out.

Tyvan grabbed the old guy’s collar, saving him from getting ripped to shreds by a ghoul.

Oof. That particular ghoul was a lot more fresh and feisty than the other ones they’d seen so far.

Ah-- and there a fuckload of them. They kept streaming out-- Monty counted at least six.

They weren’t faster than the guys at Student Council Bitch-ident’s sect, so it didn’t matter how many there were... but that was only true if they came at him one at a time.

Monty took a few hurried steps backward.

“Bishop!” he yelled, “Don’t just stand there! Get over here and--”