At the podium, Damon's eyes flicked over briefly, his gaze smooth and subtle as he continued his lecture.
In a corner that no one noticed, his hand, hanging by his side, trembled slightly...
Mason carried Elena into the underground parking lot, only to collide with two familiar faces—Clerk and Shawn, whom he had just met earlier that morning at Windy City University.
"Mr. Green, long time no see," Clerk said with a friendly smile, standing in front of Mason.
Mason shrugged, walking past Clerk nonchalantly. "Sorry, my woman's drunk, and we're in a hurry."
Shawn stepped forward, blocking Mason's way. He peered into Mason's arms with a grin. "Mr. Green, you've changed your taste? Seems like she's a bit small for you."
Mason clicked his tongue, visibly awkward. "Seems I'm into slimmer types these days. Excuse me, thanks."
Shawn didn't budge, his eyes fixed on the woman Mason was holding, unwilling to let go. "Mr. Green, it's been a while since we've had a drink together. How about we grab one now?"
Mason hadn't expected Shawn to be so persistent, blocking his way without giving up. His once-warm smile quickly turned cold and dismissive. "I don't think I'm that familiar with either of you."
Shawn opened his mouth to reply, but just then, a tall figure appeared from the direction of the parking lot.
"Gentlemen, fancy seeing you here again," Damon greeted, walking toward them and extending his hand to Clerk.
Clerk shook Damon's hand with a smile. "Yes, I just settled your bill. Didn't expect to run into you so soon."
"Really?" Damon's voice was low and smooth, his deep eyes like calm water. "Since we're meeting again so soon, how about I treat you both? Let's go upstairs. We can talk business—maybe even inspect the goods?"
The "goods" Damon referred to were, of course, vampires—the kind favored by vampire hunters. These were classified as mid-tier.
"Interesting," Clerk replied, suddenly intrigued. "Shawn, let's go see these 'goods.'"
As they turned to leave, Clerk glanced back at Mason, casting him a look—quiet, deep, and almost... void-like. It was as though Mason didn't even exist, lost in the vast emptiness of that gaze.
From the moment Damon appeared until he left, he never once glanced at Mason. It was as if Mason was invisible to him—no matter the situation, no matter the place, Mason simply did not register.
Mason disliked being ignored by Damon, but right now, he had no choice but to leave.
He quickly carried Elena away, speeding through the city from south to north, finally reaching Windy City's northern beachfront. Once there, he let out a relieved sigh.
He parked the car, opened the sunroof, and leaned back with his hands behind his head, basking in the cool sea breeze.
Two hours later, Elena finally stirred, returning to her usual, human form.
Mason handed her a blood bag, his expression thoughtful. "Aren't you going to ask me how I knew you were a vampire?"
Elena bit into the blood bag, savoring it like a delicious drink. "The time and place you appeared, and the fact that you know Damon."
"Fair enough," Mason agreed with a nod. He then asked, "Do you hate Damon?"
Elena shook her head lightly, a glint of something colder in her dark eyes. "I don't hate Damon. I just dislike certain humans. Every species has its own evolutionary path. Some want to destroy the survival rules of my kind. Especially when it comes to live specimen research."
Mason nodded in understanding but couldn't help adding, "But there are good and bad people in every species—heroes and villains. You can't judge all humans by a few bad ones. Especially when someone as handsome, wealthy, and charming as me is standing in front of you. What do you say? Want to go get to know me better in a hotel?"
"I refuse."
Elena pushed open the car door, decisively rejecting Mason's invitation. She walked steadily toward the sea, her back to him.
"Hey, you don't have to make a statement by walking to your death just because you don't want to go to the hotel!" Mason chased after her, flustered by the rejection.
As the evening sea breeze swept through, Elena suddenly turned to look back, smiling with a soft, knowing expression. Then, like a mermaid, she sank into the water and drifted away.
When she resurfaced moments later, she had left behind only the smooth curve of her neck, her beautiful, pale skin gleaming in the moonlight.
The water caressed her chest gently, just enough to cover her white skin.
Mason's eyes darkened. His body froze.
His gaze was fixed on the rolling sea, unable to look away. It was as though, in the vast ocean, there was nothing but her—nothing but the woman bathed in the shimmering sea light.
Suddenly, from the depths of the sea, Elena's arm emerged, tossing something black toward him.
"What's that? Seaweed?"
Mason reached out to catch it. To his surprise, it was the set of clothes he had given Elena—the dress, the wig, and two very expensive pairs of shoes.
"Thanks for lunch. Goodbye."
Elena waved from the water, turning with a graceful spin, and then, under the moonlight, she dove back into the sea. A beautiful arc was left behind as she disappeared into the depths.
Vampires didn't need to breathe, and they had no heartbeat—they could stay underwater indefinitely.
Mason stood there for a long moment, dazed.
Finally, the sea calmed, and Mason snapped back to reality.
He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling a ripple deep within him, murmuring to himself, "Is this... truly fate?"
For a long time, the night wind blew in, salty air clinging to his face.
Mason wiped his face, still in a daze. He picked up the wet clothes, glancing back at the water, and walked back to the shore.
Later that night, at 9 PM, Elena still hadn't returned.
In a two-story house on the outskirts of Windy City, Damon sat on the couch in the living room, brewing a pot of rose-lemon tea, quietly waiting for Elena to come home.
A small light was on beside him, dimmed to the lowest setting.
The faint glow barely revealed his expression, leaving his face hidden in shadow.
He sat in the soft, muted light like a cold, elegant statue, as if he had lost all vitality, his presence so still and silent it almost seemed like he had become a living shell—a ghost of someone who once had life.
The only thing that gave him away was the soft curling of tea smoke from his cup, spiraling around his striking features.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a wet, muddy figure stepped inside.
Elena, wrapped in a wet bed sheet, barefoot and covered in bruises, had finally returned.