"Get up!"
A harsh blow woke Victor Von Deckart from his daze, blood surging up from his throat. A raspy cough escaped his lips, followed by a pool of blood.
"Cough!"
The blood submerged the ground, leaving a deep stain.
"I told you not to dirty the cell, you piece of shit!"
Angered, a person's foot shot towards his left.
Victor didn't have enough time to react as the blow connected through. This time his head snapped to the side, blurring his vision.
If he wasn't awake before, now he definitely was. He raised his eyes forcefully, glaring at the assailant with bloodshot eyes.
"…Y-you…"
"Ha? What're u looking at?"
The assailant, an ugly short man wearing a metal chest plate, mockingly sneered.
"You really think you're still hot shit? The Deckart family is gone! Gone! Hahaha, you're no longer the heir of the illustrious family… You're nothing but a prisoner in my cell! Now get up!"
A kick came crashing down on Victor' chest, turning his insides around. He choked, unable to breathe.
Then, the ugly man followed it up with a solid punch directly at his stomach, the ringing of his metal gloves echoing.
Gah—!
With the little breathe Victor can muster, his lips parted slightly.
"…W-why...?"
"Why, you ask?"
The man rubbed his chin.
"It's a pity but the Lord has decided to execute you. I can't torture you any longer after this, so this will be our last time together."
'"… What did you say?'
A mumbled escaped Victor's lips. His eyes widened as fear grappled his heart.
'Execution.'
His body trembled in fear.
Even as days pass, he still couldn't forget that day. When the Tower had deactivated the floor barriers, causing the middle-level floors to invade the lower-level ones.
The Deckart Family, who had ruled the floor for almost a century, fell to the invasion of a middle-level floor.
Blood sucking monstrosities, Nightwalkers, who called themselves followers of the Darkin God—Vampires.