- 2 Hours Later -

(Y/N) sat himself down at the dinner table. Everything from cutlery, napkins and cups were already set up. He was brought a dish of seasoned, prepared salmon. Along with that, a bottle of red cherry wine already placed there for him.

(Y/N): "Thank you."

He said as the Luca's butler silently nodded at him as he left. (Y/N) poured some of the cherry red wine he liked into a glass chalice.

Arlene: "Delicious, isn't it?"

She appeared almost out of nowhere. (Y/N) didn't even hear her coming in. Nevertheless, he expected that from vampires.

(Y/N): "Don't do that."

Arlene: "Why not? A life without surprises is no such life."

(Y/N): "The undead don't live.""

Arlene: ""What's that supposed to mean."

(Y/N): "You bloodsuckers don't know the meaning of life. Immortality might as well be easy lane."

Arlene: "There are many ways to kill us. So if it's inherent risk and vulnerability that you're implying..."

(Y/N): "I never said invincible, that and immortality are two different things."

He informed, taking another sip of the wine. Arlene just walked over to a nearby table, sitting herself down as she grabbed a napkin and placed it on her collar, covering her dress' chest area.

Arlene: "Very well, I'll keep that in mind then. Oh butler!"

She called, clapping her hands twice as she did. (Y/N) could overhear some commotion in the next room as it slowly dawned on him what was happening. Arlene was as hungry as he was.

The butler brought in a bound and blindfolded person, terrified, ragged and homeless by the looks of it.

Butler: "Your meal, madam."

Arlene's fangs grew as her hungry eyes fell on the homeless man's vital neck arteries. She licked her teeth and growled as the man was led to the table. (Y/N) on the other hand, looked quite apathetic to the situation at hand. There wasn't much that he could do to prevent this anyways.

The butler forced the man to tilt his body so that his head was situated on the table, his now vulnerable neck right in front of her. She slowly licked her chosen feeding spot, similar to when a doctor rubs alcohol on the shoulder of a patient before a shot.

Arlene: "You will watch this, (Y/N)... To see what should happen to you, if you ever disrespect Arlene Luca ever again!"

She hissed at him, before she sunk her fangs into the man's neck. He struggled to escape, but he was bound and helpless to Arlene's mercy. He screamed beneath his bagged head, he had been gagged too as to not make too much noise.

It wasn't all a yell of pain, rather a scream of absolute fear.

(Y/N) felt for the man, but could do nothing else but feign his new loyalty to the House of Luca. Slowly, the man's efforts to escape grew weaker and weaker by the second. Arlene's eyes had turned deep red, almost mahogany.

In a few more seconds, the man went limp. His hands were as pale as snow, meaning all of his blood was now gone. Used to instead supplement this creature of the undead.

(Y/N) took a bite out of his salmon as Arlene let her now useless prey fall onto the floor. Where the body was subsequently dragged out of the room by the butler.

Arlene's fangs returned to normal as she wiped the blood off her mouth. Panting lustfully while she licked the remaining blood off of her hand. She then looked towards (Y/N), who immediately took notice of this.

(Y/N): "Don't you dare."

Arlene: "Do you see now, human? I can take whatever I want from you. And you will be powerless before me, know this the next time you throw another rude remark at me like that..."

She said, getting up. However, before departing she turned back towards (Y/N) one last time.

Arlene: "If you're behaved, I might even consider turning you. Believe me when I say it's quite... pleasurable."

She waved him goodbye and left the dining room as her meal was now fully concluded. Leaving (Y/N) alone at the table , with nothing much else but a cooked fish and a bottle of wine by his side.

(Y/N): "My longing for my old life, is the only reason you still breathe, bloodsucker."

He thought to himself. Staying to finish up his meal, it was then that Vlad Luca had entered the room. He placed his hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, patting it like a proud father would his own son.

Vlad: "My boy, I hope you weren't too frightened by my daughter. She can be a tad bit overdramatic at times."

(Y/N) chuckled a little as he took another bite off from the cooked salmon.

(Y/N): "After a lot of consideration, I'd like to work for you for now."

Vlad: "For now?"

He asked, clearly confused at (Y/N)'s partial acceptance.

(Y/N): "I don't like vampires as much as I don't like the werewolves. So, a deal's a deal. I'll kill them all if I have to."

He dismissively said.

Vlad Luca smirked confidently, pulling out a piece of paper from his suit coat. On it's header, in bold words was the word CONTRACT. Below it was the usual legal jargon, and below all of that was an empty line waiting for a signature.

No pen was in sight.

(Y/N): "I... sort of need something to sign it."

Vlad raised an eyebrow, snickering before gesturing to (Y/N)'s cutlery. The knife he had previously used to cut salmon was already sharpened to an edge. (Y/N) hesitated, while Vlad Luca already looked ready to kill if (Y/N) didn't sign it. He sighed as he then grabbed the knife, brought it to his pinky finger and ever so slightly wedged it into his skin. He winced a little as his own blood began to seep through the wound, before pressing his finger onto the line meant for his signature. His wound stung as he was able to etch his initials onto the paper.

Vlad: "Welcome to The House of Luca, (Y/N) (L/N)."

He officially greeted, (Y/N) just nodded in reply as he brought a napkin to his cut to stem the bleeding.

(Y/N): "Well, now that's over with. What's the plan?"

- Timeskip - 1:20 PM -

(Y/N) having been brought back to the city, took some time off to rest before heading off to prepare for his move on Fenrir Den. His first stop was obvious, Willard's Weapons Workshop.

(Y/N), now finally out of his formal wear given to him by the Lucas. Was clothed simply in mostly black or navy blue wear, his jacket was dark brown and he had in a pocket a pair of goggles in hand. Red tinted lenses, and with the ability to switch from normal, infrared and night vision.

He carried with him large sums of money, still a minuscule drop in the bucket compared to what his total sum came to be.

He made his way into a secluded alley, where he found a door into a seemingly abandoned building. He rhythmically knocked on the door, a certain amount of times and with a certain space in between each knock. A small hatch on the door itself opened, revealing a pair of elder eyes staring back.

Willard: "If it isn't (Y/N) (L/N)."

(Y/N): "Willy."

The young man greeted. The door's multiple locks were systematically unlocked as the door itself eventually was pried open by Willard himself. Who had on a big smile on his face, seeing an old regular customer after plenty of years.

Willard let him in as he closed the door behind him, he wandered behind his desk. The walls were decorated with many types of weapons of different shapes and sizes.

Willard: "Now, what can I do for such a loyal customer as yourself?"

He asked gleefully. (Y/N) browsed around for a while, gazing over the various selections that were available.

(Y/N): "You always had the best of the best."

He said, Willard laughed.

Willard: "You might have to oil some of em' that's for sure. But, they're as reliable as always I'll guarantee that!"

He asserted, (Y/N) looked like a young boy in his favourite toy store.

Willard: "You know, my son actually used to work in the Mob just like you."

(Y/N): "Willy, you've already told me this many times."

(Y/N) laughed, still browsing the gallery closely.

Willard: "He used to come here to buy his guns. That young idiot would almost always misplace them."

Willy joked, as (Y/N) was already noting down ones that he was particularly interested in. Grabbing some money and counting them to make sure that it would be able to purchase what he had selected.

Willard: "So what have you been up to, son? After the Mob fell and those monsters took over?"

(Y/N): "Working the odd job, until I worked in a casino for God knows how long."

Willard: "Casinos. At the very least they can help keep a quick hand in shape. So, what will it be?"

He asked, whilst (Y/N) got serious and placed down his money on the countertop. Willard brought out a notebook and a pencil to keep track of his customer's purchases.

(Y/N): "Glock 17, nine 31 round magazines and a custom holster to accommodate them. An FN P90 as well as spare magazine, Benelli M4 with increased capacity, maybe a silver-forged longsword, as well as a few flash-bang grenades. Most importantly, silver variations of each weapon's ammunition.

Willard: "Fine purchases, about the sword... Delivery or upfront?

(Y/N): "Upfront."

Willard: "Very well then."

He took (Y/N)'s money without question, (Y/N) took the liberty of retrieving each weapon off of their respective part in the galleries. Muscle memory kicked in as he quickly was able to articulate his way around each individual gun. In the meantime, Willard returned a while later with the forged longsword, he worked quite quick with it.

Willard: "All this silver...you must be going after Fenrir Den. Are you not?"

The old man asked, a bit curiously. (Y/N) kept his eye on his weapon, but answered politely.

(Y/N): "As a matter of fact, yes I am."

He was practicing aiming down the sights of his Benelli M4 and testing the action a little. Showing a significant amount of familiarity with the weapon.

Willard: "Would you like a bag with all of that?"

(Y/N) nodded. Willard then brought out a duffle bag from underneath his counter, patting it a little as (Y/N) retrieved it. Along with that, he placed down various types of ammunition cases. All specifically labelled Ag Ammunition.