Neia, a mixed-blood elf working as a courtesan, was having an incredibly unlucky day.

First, she had to cover a shift on her supposed day off due to a scheduling mishap.

Then, a drunkard on the street ruined one of her best outfits.

As if that wasn’t enough, her favorite hair ornament was stolen by an insufferable coworker.

Just one of these incidents could ruin her mood for the entire day, but they all happened back-to-back, leaving her nerves completely frayed.

And the worst was yet to come.

That night, as she prepared to wrap up her dreadful day, a good-looking customer walked into the establishment.

Tall, with pale skin and a casual yet charming appearance, he had a boyish face that gave off an innocent vibe.

Neia, who was particularly picky when it came to aesthetics—partly due to her quarter-elf blood—decided he was barely attractive enough to pass.

The man, noticing her elongated ears, seemed to recognize her as a half-elf and chose her without hesitation.

At first, everything seemed fine, but things took a horrifying turn when he led her to a secluded alley and suddenly declared his intention to pull out her fingers.

Neia was beyond distraught.

She wanted to scream at the unfairness of the world, to question why this was happening to her.

“Didn’t you say you’d do anything I wanted if I paid you? Then what’s the problem with me taking a few fingers, huh? Why are you being so picky for a whore?”

In the dim, grimy alleyway, Neia’s eyes filled with tears.

Even in a place where a couple of corpses wouldn’t raise suspicion, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to suffer.

“Please, let this be a dream.”

She prayed.

Though she had never believed in gods, at that moment, she fervently wished for one to exist.

As if in response to her desperate plea, something unexpected happened.

Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw a dirty bundle of cloth appear in the alley.

“H-Huh?”

It was utterly bizarre.

If it had fallen from above, there would’ve been a sound or a gust of air.

If it had come from somewhere nearby, it would’ve had to pass through the man blocking the only path.

Its appearance defied logic, as though she had just encountered a ghost.

“Wait… a ghost? Someone mentioned something like that recently, didn’t they…?”

The sheer absurdity of the situation momentarily suppressed her fear, allowing her to think clearly.

Neia recalled a conversation she’d had with a previous customer.

“Huh? What’s with the bruise on your forehead?”

“I don’t know.”

“Excuse me?”

“Was it yesterday? I was collecting dues as usual when some kid started pestering me. I decided to teach them a lesson, but suddenly, this ghost-like thing appeared out of nowhere. That’s the last thing I remember. I woke up with this bruise.”

That customer had been quite strong.

As a werewolf, he could crush an ordinary human with ease, even in his human form.

Yet there he was, scratching his head in confusion with a fresh bruise.

—

The memory made it clear to Neia that the so-called ghost was a dangerous entity.

And now, seeing this strange bundle of cloth, she instinctively connected it to the ghost.

“What is this filthy thing? A kid? No, it doesn’t look like one. A goblin? Or maybe it’s that woman’s pet?”

The man, however, showed no sign of feeling uneasy.

If anything, he seemed annoyed at having his “work” interrupted.

He tapped his foot impatiently, his expression twisted with irritation.

Then again, given how his hand trembled slightly, he seemed to be holding back some sort of violent impulse.

“Those idiots swore nothing would get in here… Bah, forget it. I’ll kill you both!”

The man, muttering to himself, finally lost his patience.

When he looked up again, his eyes were blood-red, glowing ominously.

Neia, experienced as she was in dealing with different races, immediately understood what he was.

“A v-vampire!”

Vampires were considered particularly dangerous, even in Nighthaven.

While the world’s sparse mana made magic difficult to wield, vampires could circumvent that limitation by using blood as a medium.

What he wanted wasn’t her fingers—it was her blood, tainted as it might be. The finger-pulling? That was just his personal preference.

“I’ll rip you and that filthy cloth to shreds!”

The man bit down on his own lip, drawing blood.

Neia reflexively flinched.

Even a weak vampire was a monster capable of tearing apart a mixed-blood elf like her.

As someone with no means to defend herself, she could only cower in fear.

“Kehehek! Die! Die, you—”

Smack!

Before the man could finish his sentence, the sharp crack of a whip-like strike echoed through the alley.

Startled, Neia’s body jolted upward, her heart pounding as she looked toward the source of the noise.

There, she saw the vampire collapse to the ground, his eyes rolling back as he foamed at the mouth.

“Huh? Wh-what just happened?”

She stared at the unconscious man, completely dumbfounded.

His body lay limp, drooling, as though all the strength had left him in an instant.

The dirty bundle of cloth—the ghost—approached the fallen man.

It was only then that Neia realized the ghost was the one who had taken him down.

“It took out a vampire in one hit? It really is the ghost!”

She let out a silent scream, her mind racing.

Vampires were already terrifying monsters far beyond her ability to handle.

And this ghost had subdued one in an instant?

She hadn’t even seen how it happened.

One moment, the vampire was shouting; the next, he was out cold.

It was the same technique her werewolf customer had described—an attack so swift and silent, it couldn’t be detected.

“I don’t want to die!”

She trembled, certain that she would be next.

As the ghost turned and approached her, she began imagining the worst.

Its silent movements only amplified her fear as it drew closer, step by step, until it was right in front of her.

Neia’s mind went blank. But just as she was bracing for the end, a small, pale hand emerged from the folds of the cloth and held something out to her.

“Eek! I-it’s… my ring?”

It was the ring the vampire had taken from her just before threatening to pull her fingers off.

The ghost must have retrieved it from his belongings.

Still half out of her mind, Neia accepted the ring without question.

“Wha… the hand is so soft.”

For a moment, she found herself thinking about how oddly warm and plush the ghost’s hand had felt.

But when she looked up again, the ghost was gone.

“Was… that a dream?”

Left alone with the unconscious vampire, Neia sat in the alley, her thoughts swirling in confusion.

Though her life had been saved, she couldn’t make sense of what had just happened.

Far away, perched on a rooftop with a clear view of Nighthaven’s skyline, I rifled through the unconscious man’s wallet.

“Hmm… nothing worthwhile here, either.”

Two disappointing hauls in a row.

Maybe people weren’t carrying cash around as much these days.

“He was trembling and had bloodshot eyes. Definitely a drug addict. Poor guy.”

Even if addiction wasn’t entirely his fault, his actions had left him dangerous to others. It was better this way.

I tossed the wallet aside, keeping only enough cash for a few pieces of bread.

“By the way, that was my first time seeing an elf. Her ears were so pointy—fascinating!”

The image of the trembling elf lingered in my mind.

She had been shaking so much when I approached that I felt compelled to return her ring as a reassurance.

“I ended up showing my hand, but… it should be fine.”

Hoping the pretty elf lady would stay out of trouble from now on, I turned my attention to the pile of rings I had taken from the man.

“If there’s no cash, I’ll just sell these.”

It seemed I’d need to make a trip to the pawn shop today.