The best thing, having spent the entire afternoon in this fortress deep in the forest—where, if something unpleasant were to happen to Dom, no one would hear his cries for help—would have been to end the visit right there. Maybe, at most, he could ask his host if it would be alright to come back another day, just to make sure there was no hidden coffin in some dark room.

But Dom was already pretty convinced that Raffaele wasn't a vampire. And if he'd managed to get himself invited inside the castle for a little tour, why not take advantage of the man's kindness by accepting his offer to stay for dinner and spend the night?

Alright, yes, the guy still sounded a bit—well, quite—suspicious.

And, technically speaking, no matter how much of a con artist Ciro had been during his time in San Cipriano dei Monti, it would have been wrong to deduce that he had left the place exactly as Raffaele had described, without checking for himself.

It was still necessary to make sure there weren't any bodies lying around, or hung up by their feet like hams in a cellar. So Dom told himself it was his moral duty to carry out one final verification before moving on to something else.

This decision had nothing to do with the fact that he could get free food and accommodation in what was clearly a palace. Sure, it was a bit run-down, but even so, it was still a hundred thousand times better than any place Dom had had to sleep in over the past decade.

The dinner had been somewhat disappointing, forced to adhere to his host's preferences for vegetable broths and basically anything else that came from a tree or that the earth had spat out. It wasn't all bad, though, because afterwards, having a guest room fit for an aristocrat more than made up for it.

And how easy it would have been to let himself be wrapped up in those high-quality blankets and stay in that bed all night without getting up once until dawn!

But Dom couldn't do that if he wanted to investigate. So, much to his regret, he had to make sure to stay awake well past midnight. Once he was sure the whole castle was dark and silent, with no sign of his host, he began to wander through the now eerie corridors until he found the right place to proceed.

Logically, if one had a prisoner or a body they didn't want anyone to know was still in their possession, the best place would be the catacombs. Down there, if there was a sufficiently deep water current, a body could be sunk. And if there wasn't enough moisture to create a stream... Well, the fortress already looked quite large from the outside. Therefore, the underground space was likely even bigger.

Dom expected this catacomb area, flooded or not, to be a labyrinth of hallways that could lead to countless cells, making it easy for someone like him—who had no clue what the building's architecture looked like—to get lost at the first corner.

So, Dom now had two options: The first was to take the risk and go down into the depths of the earth without a guide, hoping to find something useful without getting lost along the way.

The second, and far more appealing, was to try sneaking into that one room—the only one in the whole castle—that he had been strictly forbidden from entering.

"If you open that door, something terrible will happen," Raffaele had warned him ominously when, that very afternoon, as they passed by it, Dom had asked where it led. "I sealed it myself just days after moving into this castle, and I haven't opened it since."

Knowing Raffaele, one would expect that room to hold all the evils imaginable. That he hadn't locked it to mess with his guests, but because he genuinely feared what might come from it and had come up with no other solution but to lock it away.

But if that was the case, there were two things that didn't quite add up.

One was that, unlike when he had talked about the catacombs, Raffaele hadn't seemed as terrified this time. In fact, he had been quite firm, almost as if he knew, despite everything terrible hidden behind those four walls, that he could confront it and come out victorious... Or at least put up a good fight.

The other thing was that... This door wasn't locked. There was no padlock or bolt, as if it were just there, inviting the boldest to enter.

Dom wasn't going to be intimidated by what seemed like such a direct threat. He had completed military training and fought in Staffarda! What kind of ex-soldier would he be if he turned around now?

Okay, fine, the training had only lasted two days, and in the battle, he had turned tail and run the moment he saw they were slaughtering those ahead of him, but what was he supposed to do? They hadn't given him proper training, though they had sweetened his ears with talk of a glorious future after defeating the French. It wasn't his fault he had believed it.

Anyway, trying to avoid getting stabbed by an enemy soldier and capturing a vampire were two very different things. Today, nothing terrible should happen.

Dom pressed his ear to the door to make sure nothing immediately dangerous was on the other side. He had taken out his blade, this time for real, prepared to attack the first underworld creature that came at him. Then, after trying to listen for nearly half a minute and concluding that there was no sound, not even the faintest breath, he finally turned the doorknob.

What happened next was an unimaginable catastrophe.

Turning the knob was easy enough; the problem was, once the door was unlocked, it swung open with such force that Dom couldn't stop it, unleashing everything hidden inside. Or rather, everything that had been stored in the cupboard. Because, in the end, that's what it was.

It wasn't a cell in the middle of a third-floor corridor, nor was it some unknown room where Raffaele was conducting evil experiments with who knows what kind of ingredients. No, what actually happened was that the lord of the castle had piled up a collection of household gadgets, bags, books, and other various items, which all came crashing down in an avalanche the moment Dom unlocked the door.

This mountain of junk not only knocked him to the ground, semi-conscious, but also created such a racket that it must have been heard throughout the fortress. And thank goodness the wooden crates were at the bottom of that pile, because otherwise, Dom would've sustained more than just a scratch!

The plan was a bust. As soon as he regained his senses a couple of minutes later, Raffaele was already by his side, checking to make sure he wasn't hurt and helping him up.

"These guests today are like little kids," Raffaele muttered under his breath as he moved some objects out of the way to uncover the still-dazed Dom. "You tell them not to touch something, and what's the first thing they do when you leave them unsupervised? Touch it! In the end, it'll be my fault for having warned..."

Raffaele stopped right there, presumably realizing that there was a piece of paper on the floor. A paper that didn't belong to him, but to Dom, and which had undoubtedly fallen out of his pocket during the disaster.

"It's not what it looks like!" Dom hastily exclaimed as soon as he realized his mistake.

How had he been so foolish not to burn that paper? He really needed it, but... at least he could have hidden it better, like in his boots or something!

This would have avoided his current predicament, with Raffaele curiously reading the list Dom had written in pencil that very morning, just before heading toward the forest. The list was nothing more than a compendium of superstitions, like: "He's repelled by crucifixes," "He feeds on human blood," or even "He cannot set foot on sacred ground."

All of that was preceded by an equally suggestive title:

"Vampiric Checklist," Raffaele read aloud. "Is this your night job, or how does this work?"

"No, I..." – Am I just a respectable worker? Dom knew that wasn't the case, and now that he'd been caught, it was better for his survival not to lie. "Alright, yes. I... It's not that I make a living hunting vampires, nor do I even believe in the supernatural, to be honest. But the villagers convinced me. Count Sforza is paying a good amount of money to find the supposed vampire and capture it."

"Were you planning to check off everything on the list with me? Some things are crossed out here..."

"Not everything. The stake, for example, is too extreme. You can't just go around stabbing the first guy suspected of vampirism—imagine if I got it wrong! How would I fix that afterward?"

"But I don't understand. Why would you or anyone think that I'm a vampire? With the way I blend in... I mean, couldn't it be someone else?"

"I don't think it's anything personal to you," Dom dismissed, feeling the need to reassure him for some reason, especially since Raffaele seemed a bit down. "I have a feeling they've pinned it on you because, well, you're the new guy in town. They don't know you, but they know you've got money and maybe even some position. I don't know. It's easier to accuse an outsider than to think a lifelong neighbor could be guilty."

"Why would anyone believe such a thing about anyone?"

"It's because of the attacks on children that have been happening over the past few weeks."

"Sounds like a hoax; if I were you, I wouldn't worry about it," Dom nearly added. But hearing that children were being targeted, Raffaele immediately grew concerned.

"How come I wasn't informed? This is terrible! We have to do something to help."

"Look, I don't believe there's any supernatural creature lurking around here. In fact, it's even possible they made up the attacks because I haven't found a single piece of solid evidence that they even happened..."

"It's very clear: if I couldn't be the one, but people are convinced it must've been a vampire, then there must be another vampire nearby."

"Wait a minute, didn't you hear what I just said? It could've been anything—or nothing at all!"

"I don't believe it's nothing if the Lord of these lands himself has taken it so seriously as to offer money from his own pocket to find a solution. Besides," he declared with absolute conviction, "you seem to me too empathetic and professional to take on a job like this just for the money. No, surely you did it for the sake of the children, right?"

"Uh... yes?" Dom sounded somewhat doubtful and, just in case that didn't fly, he murmured, "Though money is always welcome."

"It's decided then! You haven't hurt yourself, right? I told you I hadn't finished settling everything yet, with the move." After checking for the hundredth time that Dom was unharmed, and with Dom confirming it this time, Raffaele instructed, "Alright then, go back to bed. Tomorrow morning, you and I will go hunting for that other vampire."

"Ah, there's no need..."

"Of course there is, the more of us there are in the search, the sooner we'll find it."

"J-just the two of us?" Dom almost had a panic attack at the thought of Raffaele getting involved in his covert investigation. "Not to be disrespectful, but... I don't think you have what it takes to pull off this mission. For everyone's sake, it would be better if a professional with experience in conflicts took care of it."

Which, in reality, was nothing but a load of nonsense: What truly worried Dom was precisely that interference from Raffaele—not just in ruining his little operation, but in the reward too. The fact that Dom was an ex-soldier, and therefore everyone assumed he had plenty of battle experience, was just a convenient bonus to back up arguments he otherwise lacked.

"I know, and I appreciate you caring so much about my safety," Raffaele said, placing a hand on Dom's shoulder as a gesture of camaraderie. "But it's too late now. I've just learned about a problem happening very close to where I live, and I'm interested in resolving it as soon as possible. So we're in this together."

"I suppose, if there's no other choice..."

The worst thing that could happen was that Dom wouldn't manage to pull off the second part of his plan, and sooner or later, Raffaele would realize that there was no threat in the village at all.

Either way, Dom convinced himself that he didn't care. Even if his original plan fell apart and he couldn't claim any reward, at least Raffaele's cooperation would ensure he still had a comfortable place to stay—and it would spare him from having to think about how to scrounge up something to eat.

After all the running around, it seemed the main suspect for vampirism, according to the villagers, was going to be innocent. And if not, what kind of idiot would meddle in an investigation into attacks he himself had caused?