Out of desperation, a fragile truce was forged. In the year 2174, a three-way pack where wolves, vampires, and humans would coexist.
The terms were simple: humans would be protected from unchecked slaughter, and in return, they would serve as the lifeblood needed to sustain both species.
It had been a hundred and eighty years since the alliance formed.
Now marks the Year 2324.
And this season, the stakes have never been higher. Predators had awoken and now, Velvetiana was about to step into their world without knowing what would become of her in this fated play.
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"Excuse me? Where are you taking me?" Velvetiana halted mid-step, her gaze narrowing as the man guided her toward a private lounge reserved for the elite class who are using modern airships. She knitted her eyebrows and added, "I can't go to that side."
Sure, she might be a country bumpkin, but that didn't mean she was completely clueless. She had climbed enough roofs and trees just to get a signal on her ancient 3G phone that miraculously survived the war. She could only rely on it to look up some things she needed to know after deciding to travel alone.
The world is cruel to the ignorant. If she couldn't ask, she could at least pretend to be confident and knew something to avoid scammers and becoming a laughingstock. Hansel bowed beside her. He was a head taller than her and his posture immaculate as he replied with calm precision.
"My lady, please be at ease and wait comfortably inside. I've already secured your ticket and boarding pass."
"Huh? Why would you do that? I already bought a ticket." She lifted the ticket in her hand, confusion flickering across her face. "Then what should I do with this now?"
It was the same ticket her father had painstakingly saved for by selling off his passion and only source of income just to buy it.
Upon seeing what she had in hand, Hansel's brow creased in mild disapproval. His tone sharpened, laced with quiet arrogance.
"Pardon me, my lady, but that ticket is for economy flights. It wasn't even a business flight for the middle class."
Velvetiana's face grew a darker shade. "I can read so I know that much."
The man heaved a sigh and curtly replied.
"Economy flights are only for poor commoners. How could someone of your stature possibly board one of those old, battered things? I would advise you to discard it as it no longer suits your new identity as a noble—"
Slap!
Hansel's head barely moved from the impact, but the sharp sound echoed through the polished floors of the private lounge. Velvetiana's palm stung, but it was worth it. Her face twisted into a crooked smile as she flexed her fingers.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said sweetly, voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Did I accidentally slap you? My hand must have been possessed by all the poor commoners' ghosts. They're so bitter, you know?"
Hansel's silver eyes darkened, though his expression remained eerily composed. A flicker of something dangerous passed behind them, but he quickly masked it beneath a polite smile.
"I see," Hansel murmured. He slowly adjusted his gloves, the crisp sound of fabric sliding over his fingers unnervingly loud. "Perhaps I misspoke."
Velvetiana scoffed and stepped back, still clutching the ticket in her hand like a lifeline.
"Oh no, I think you spoke perfectly fine," she said coolly, stuffing the ticket into her jacket pocket. "You've made it very clear what you think of commoners. But you do realize that I was raised somewhere even most commoners would find dirty and disgusting. I wonder if you're so bored with your job and want to change profession by mocking me, Hansel…"
The man's throat tightened and flinched.
Without hesitation, Hansel's hand moved and he slapped his other cheek with a force that made it look like he had been hit by a hammer.
Caught by surprise, Velvetiana who was very upset a second back, almost jumped into her spot with a frantic heartbeat.
"H-Hey! What are you doing? Hansel!" she reproached, but the man looked so determined in punishing his own self.
She grimaced at how his once calm and pleasing appearance was turned beaten into a pulp because of his own repeated thrashing.
What the hell? Did he go crazy just because of a few words from her?
"I dare not, my lady. Please forgive this lowly servant for my transgression," he said with a muffled voice.
The resounding crisp slap continued and didn't stop while he spoke.
Oh god. This neat-looking guy she met was gone. He suddenly looked like a battered pig! Scary.
She was about to brush past him when a quiet laugh interrupted her thoughts.
Low and easy, like the edge of a blade skimming silk.
Her eyes flicked toward the source.
A young man leaned casually against the wall in the corner of the lounge, partially hidden beneath the shadow of his dark hoodie. He was tall, particularly a few inches taller than Hansel if she could surmise it right but his frame was lean beneath the loose fabric of his jacket.
A mop of dark brown hair fell over his red eyes, obscuring them beneath the hood, but the smirk curving his lips was impossible to miss.
He was muttering something she couldn't make out because of his occasional jeering.
On his wrist was a sleek, high-tech holographic watch, glowing faintly as shifting data flickered across its surface. Velvetiana's brow furrowed. Even from across the room, she could tell that was not something an average person—or even a common rich kid—could afford.
That level of technology was military-grade. Perhaps only a brat from the high society, a diamond spoon from birth who likes throwing off money could.
Yet here he was, dressed like someone who had just crawled out of an alleyway in contrast.
Did she made the wrong assumption? Forget it. This one is surely just another weirdo. Velvetiana criticized in her head.
When the young man suddenly tilted his head, eyes glinting beneath his hood.
"Feisty," he said with a chuckle. "Didn't expect to see a commoner girl with that much bite."
At the mere mention of her status, Velvetiana's eye twitched.
"Well, congrats! Now you see one. You're no longer an emo and ignorant."
The man chuckled.
"I like you."
"I don't like you," she spat.
He just shrugged. "Oh? That's too bad but I really don't care about your feelings. I just like you so that's that."
"Huh?" the girl was speechless. God, what a jerk. She ran her hand through her head and scowled.
"Well, the feeling is mutual except I don't like you. Don't you have anything worthwhile to do aside from snooping around like a dog with other's business?" she spoke irritably while trying to keep the volume of her voice at her usual pitch but it proved to be harder than her ascending to heaven when she was in front of an evil incarnate.
"Me?" The young man pushed off the wall with a lazy stretch, his hands sliding into the pockets of his hoodie. "Just a guy with excellent taste in drama."
"Drama?"
He pointed lazily toward Hansel. "Mr. Fancy Gloves over there." His smile widened; the kind of smile that made you check your pockets to see what was missing. "Don't worry. I'm sure he's used to being slapped by other people."
Hansel's expression didn't change, but Velvetiana could feel the subtle shift in his posture—a stiffening of his shoulders, the faint tension in his jaw.
What on earth did he mean by 'he's used to being slapped by other people'? Velvetiana felt somewhat stirred who would get accustomed to someone being beaten?
Not even the gang members in the slum who would often cause trouble would claim that they don't feel anything anymore when hurt.
However, before she could press on and ask, Hansel's voice echoed in her ears..
"Sir, if you have business here, I suggest you state it plainly," Hansel said, his voice dangerously calm.
"Nah." The young man shrugged. "Just passing through."
He turned toward the exit, but not before flashing Velvetiana a quick smile. "See you around, Red."
"Hmm, should I start calling her my feisty pudding?" he shrugged and waved his hand cooly.
Left baffled, Velvetiana's eyes narrowed.
"What the! How do you know my name?"
He didn't answer. He just slipped through the automatic glass doors and disappeared into the crowd of travelers beyond.
Velvetiana stared after him, brows knitting together.
Hansel's gaze followed the young man's departure, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"My lady," Hansel said, stepping beside her with quiet urgency. "It would be unwise to engage with people of… questionable origin."
Velvetiana shot him a side-eye. "You mean poor commoners?"
Hansel's jaw twitched and he shut his mouth tight.
Velvetiana sighed and shook her head. She wasn't sure why, but something about that guy—the way he moved, the way he smiled—felt… off.
Not dangerous. But not safe, either. Her fingers brushed against the worn edge of the ticket in her pocket.
"Well," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, "looks like this trip just got interesting. Hey Hansel, get these refunded if you want to keep your job safe."
The man was stunned in silence for a moment but quickly pulled back. Hansel pressed his bruised lips together painfully as he responded with masked reluctance, "Then… I will see what I can do, my lady."