CHAPTER 76: CHAOS IN THE VAMPIRE HUNTER QUARTER

After the mess the vampires had stirred, the Vampire Hunter Association demanded accountability from the Seven Great Covenants.

What they received, however, wasn’t an explanation, it was crates upon crates of gold, weapons, money, and even Vitalis Cores, all delivered within two days while the Brok quarter was still under repair.

The delivery came with nothing more than a cold apology letter — a template, without remorse — and a statement that the Velstrath Matriarch had already submitted documents proving the corrupt ties between House Hesse and the former Chief of Brok’s quarter.

The only "instruction" was a warning: hunters were to clean out the scavengers, or else the Covenants would step in directly.

Which meant Isolde would now be in charge of Brok’s safety. The thought alone was enough to make David’s head pound.

The disgraced Chief had been shipped to the main branch for severe punishment, his accomplices with him.

What remained here was nothing, not even a deputy. David was the highest-ranking hunter left, second rank.

Brok didn’t even have a first rank hunter anymore since the chief and his accomplice weren’t here anymore.

In their system, first rank was the strongest, while fifth was the weakest and the majority of Brok’s hunters were fifth.

"This town is fucked," David muttered as he signed off on receiving the boxes and letters.

"Holy hell. Vampires don’t play around with compensation," Sam exclaimed, lifting a silver bullet from one of the crates and rolling it between his fingers.

"What do you think about the new Chief? Think the main branch will send someone from the city... or shove one of their own at us?" David asked, checking the crates one by one against the inventory list.

Other hunters helped tally the count, most of them overworked already since Betty and the others had resigned.

They were desperately short-staffed.

"Nah. My money’s on you. They’ll toss us another human shield, maybe two, but you’ll be the one carrying it." Sam shrugged, like it was nothing worth caring about.

"You’re insane. I shouldn’t even–"

His words were cut short by a sharp scream. A new guy stumbled back, eyes wide with terror, before collapsing to the ground.

David and Sam exchanged a glance, then rushed over. The man was shaking, unable to form words, only pointing at one of the crates.

Blood was seeping out from its seams, spreading across the ground. David’s brows furrowed as he pried the box open.

The sight inside made his stomach twist. His blue eyes widened, it was the severed head of the Chief, the one supposedly sent to the main branch. The face was frozen in shock, eyes bulging as though they’d nearly burst from their sockets.

Tucked beside it was a small red envelope. David tore it open and read the single line inside:

"Let’s work together from now on."

The message was as ominous as the gore. He knew exactly who it came from. His jaw tightened. Without hesitation, he ripped the letter apart, scattering the pieces.

He didn’t care about the ex-Chief or his corpse. The dead couldn’t do anything. The living, however... could.

By the next day, as promised, another package arrived. This time the pieces were arranged like some macabre installation, hands and feet dangling from the ceiling of the hall.

And it wasn’t just the Chief anymore. Two more people had joined the "bloody art" exhibit.

On the third day it escalated: a stag-shaped statue built entirely out of human parts. David didn’t even blink. He’d seen worse on missions; this barely registered.

Sam, on the other hand, was delighted, rating the "artwork," taking photos, even posing for selfies as if they were in a real gallery. The man was insane.

But that third day carried something different. A message smeared on the wall in loops of intestine read:

"Who’s next?"

David knew it was a bluff. He had already reported the atrocities to the main branch and was preparing to arrest Isolde again.

The gore didn’t bother him, and Sam seemed thrilled. But the rest of the hunters weren’t fine at all. They were cracking.

Fear spread through the ranks. People whispered about being next. Some packed their things, ready to quit.

Without a Chief to steady them, their morale shattered. They looked like lost sheep under a circling wolf.

And David failed to see it happening.

. . .

"Stop all of this bullshit! I would never work with you!" David slammed his hands on the desk, glaring at Isolde across the velvet-lined room of the Velstrath manor.

"You violated the truce between humans and vampires!"

"As expected," Isolde said lightly, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "How are the other hunters? Do they like the gifts I sent?"

"What? Are you threatening me?"

"No," she smiled, "I’m curious what they’re thinking. You’re not alone in that building, after all. But don’t worry. I’ve already vented my anger on the old men. And by the way—" her smile sharpened, "the Vampire Hunter Association won’t interfere. They give me the freedom of what to do with the body."

"Though, they might just give me a letter of complaint and move on."

David’s brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn’t know?" She tilted her head.

"Those men were already on death row. Their crimes were too severe. They caused civilians to die, feeding themselves on their flesh and blood. I simply took care of them first."

David was silent.

When he returned to the office, the real trouble was waiting. A stack of resignation letters sat on his desk.

"Why are you giving these to me?"

"Uh... you’re the highest rank here, David," one hunter said. Others nodded.

"We can’t keep working if our lives are at risk like this."

"You sign up as vampire hunters and expect a comfortable life? What kind of hypocritical cowardice is that?" David shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Honestly, after seeing an S-rank vampire’s power, I’ve lost all courage to keep going," another admitted.

"Especially now we don’t have a first-rank hunter, and no Chief to handle the bureaucracy, lead, and to protect us."

"This branch doesn’t have a future," someone else muttered. Heads nodded.

"But aren’t the Covenants’ letters saying they’ll take care of it if we can’t? Why not just agree?"