Sylv slid the carriage door open slowly, bringing him into a carriage packed with long-distance passengers. Summer vacation was certainly the reason. A group of teenagers turned their seats so they sat facing each other while playing cards. A young couple who appeared to be newlyweds pressed against each other while talking about their plans at the destination. A heavyset mother stepped right in front of Sylv while dragging a large suitcase. She walked toward her husband, who was telling the kids to stop fighting and sit still.

All kinds of people, yet none of them knew each other's true identities. Sometimes Sylv didn't particularly like that his eyes could see further than what appeared on the surface.

Had they ever felt different from other people?

Passing the group of teenagers playing cards, Sylv looked at one of the boys. His features were soft, with long blond hair tied back. A faint smile was etched on his face.

"My gut feeling says it's going to rain today," he said.

The curly-haired boy beside him furrowed his brow. "That makes no sense. It's summer! There's a drought everywhere, you know."

"Oh, I hope not," replied the girl across from him. "At least let us get to the hotel first. That's when it can rain all it wants."

Sylv's seat was still far toward the back. He passed the heavyset mother who had a family with a unique dynamic. It seemed the mother was very strong — or chose not to deal with her children, using carrying the bags and suitcases to the overhead compartment as her excuse. The woman let out a long sigh, exhausted by the noise. Her children, both small and large, were better handled by the father whose body was smaller, yet who held more authority. The man started by counting, "One…" and instantly all the children scrambled to sit down.

Sylv stopped at the last three rows. He glanced at his old green suitcase covered in various travel stickers — which weren't actually from his own travels but gifts from other people — and it was heavy.

Honestly he didn't want to use it anymore, but his lazy side protested.

Before doing it, he made sure no one was watching him. Then quickly, he pressed his hand against the suitcase. A faint flicker of light glowed between them. Instantly the suitcase became as light as a basketball that could be tossed toward a ring. Or the overhead compartment, more precisely.

No energy spent, yet when Sylv sat down in his window seat, he could finally breathe with relief.

His eyes glanced once more briefly over the passengers. This time what he saw was completely different.

…Because if they felt different, chances were they weren't ordinary humans.

The soft-featured boy who predicted the weather had long ears in Sylv's eyes. In the hidden world Sylv knew of, they were called the Elf race. Their intuition toward nature was remarkably sharp. The heavyset mother actually had large lower fangs that protruded from her mouth, yet she smiled warmly at her child who had a similar physique. The mother listened to her little one's chatter that sounded like, "Later I want to eat an eight-hundred-gram steak, Mama!" or, "If the train's brakes break, I'll hold it from the front!" They were Ogres, a race of tremendous physical strength that needed outlets to release their energy.

Suddenly thunder roared, breaking the attention of several passengers. Including the friend sitting beside the Elf — the cat-human. He jolted and amusingly covered the sides of his head — where he thought human ears were — while his cat ears folded back like the wings of a jet plane.

"Aah, thunder!" Then he stopped for a moment. "Wait — why is there thunder?!"

His Elf friend only gave a small smile.

Not a single one of them appeared to be aware of their true identities. Only Sylv — and a handful of humans like him who knew about it. It wasn't that Sylv didn't want to tell others, but there were "certain parties" who had ordered them to stay silent.

They said magic was too dangerous for the public to know about. There would be those who'd use it for harm. Just think about what someone would do if they had the power to destroy the world with a flick of their hand. Some of them might be led astray by the whispers of their own greed. Some would willingly sacrifice hundreds of lives just to sleep in a comfortable home. That was precisely why magic was better left considered as nothing more than a fairy tale.

At least that was according to them. The Realmkeepers. The guardians of the world. The keepers of secrets. And Sylv — perhaps? — was still part of them.

The Realmkeeper identity that had been tightly bound to Sylv, he had torn away. That was the reason that brought him onto this train. Leaving behind a past that had finally been resolved since yesterday.

Yet in reality, his mind kept replaying the events he wanted to forget, as if the harder he tried to forget, the more those memories showed themselves. And those were the days when he was still at that wretched Academy. Novastra Academy — the place that produced the greatest Realmkeepers.

Those fragments of memory scattered and lacerated his skin. All those painful memories stretched across his time at Novastra since age ten — until five years later at fifteen, his current age. Thousands of fragments filled with uniformed children who talked about Sylv every single day.

Then there were the fragments that reminded him of the trio of senior students. Their leader sneered in Sylv's face and said, "Out of energy again, Sylv? What kind of Realmkeeper are you?" And when the senior's hand rose, Sylv knew that day he would be getting a new bruise on his face.

But — did he even deserve to feel wronged about it? The memories pulled him further into an abyss. This time Sylv saw a small child who was at least eight years old standing before him. Sylv's hand, in front of that child, rose exactly like that wretched senior from Novastra. And Sylv's hand… was drenched in blood. The child before him could only curl up, crying in pain. Begging him to stop hurting them.

That feeling of guilt gnawed at him, making him think that perhaps he was simply receiving his punishment at Novastra. Perhaps that was the reason why he had never asked anyone for help. Until one of his female friends grew frustrated on her own when she found him already badly beaten.

She said: "Why do you always act so tough? Just admit that you're weak! That's better than you continuing to hurt yourself over and over again."

Yes, Sylv wondered himself. Why did he do all of this? He didn't know, let alone her.

All of it felt like a pile of stones on his back. And so Sylv knelt before someone with tears streaming heavily down his face. Tears he had been holding back all this time. The cold floor seeped into his bones, but that was nothing compared to what he felt.

"I'm tired…. I don't want to be at this Academy anymore," he pleaded in a low murmur.

In the end… he admitted everything.

"Maybe I really am just an ordinary person. Trying too hard to be seen as something more."

That wish came true at this very moment. At the moment the intercom announced the departure. Even if this life choice could finally be taken with all sorts of nauseating conditions, and one of them being that no one could know he was a Realmkeeper.

Let alone that — Sylv himself no longer wanted to claim it.

"Attention. The train from Stellangard with final destination Slumberhills Station, Slumberhills City, will be departing shortly from Platform Three. All passengers are requested to board the train immediately."

Right as the intercom announced the departure, a man still on the platform came rushing in. The man looked vaguely mysterious at first glance, but who had the right to judge if that was indeed his choice of appearance. He wore a thick black jacket in this sweltering summer heat — though admittedly the sun was now slightly covered by heavy clouds. His trousers were long and paired with boots. His head was completely covered by a beanie. His entire face was almost hidden behind a mask and dark sunglasses. Just looking at him was enough to make one feel hot.

Stellangard New City Station's platform was wide open to the outdoors. Because he was in too much of a rush, the man didn't notice a wasp colliding into his jacket. The wasp got struck and latched onto his clothing, while the man hurried into the carriage just like that.

The man's seat was directly across from Sylv's. Already sitting there was a bald man with a thin beard. The bald man glanced briefly at the heavily covered stranger out of reflex. But that was what made him immediately stare wide-eyed.

"Eek! That's — !" The bald man even stood up in alarm, pressing himself against the window.

"W-what?" The heavily covered man instantly became flustered. Other passengers turned to look, curious.

"A wasp!" the bald man shrieked in a squeamish voice.

"Aaaah!" The heavily covered man panicked just as much when he saw his own shoulder.

Without thinking he immediately ripped off his jacket and flung it into the carriage aisle. The wasp flew off just like that, feeling not the least bit guilty for startling an entire carriage. But what followed made the situation all the more confusing.

The man who had just been wearing a thick jacket now had the full skin of his arms exposed. For some reason his skin immediately flushed red as if he had been sunbathing under the sun for far too long. His cry of pain tore through the air, making every passenger shudder in fear.

The man appeared to be trying to avoid the windows, but his body was trembling so violently that his legs caught on a seat, causing him to collapse helplessly into the narrow carriage aisle. He was still hysterical with pain — until from somewhere an extraordinary force in his jaw managed to tear apart the mask covering his mouth. His sunglasses flew off as well.

"W-why did that happen?" The bald man was still confused by everything that had unfolded so quickly. His face carried a thousand questions about whether he had just done something wrong.

Sylv pulled out his wireless earphones, watching in a panic.

Could he be….

Sylv didn't even dare finish the thought. Especially not when he saw smoke rising from the man's skin, blisters forming across it.

"Damn, I forgot. My jacket…." The man struggled to reach for his jacket.

Noticing that the man needed his jacket, a mother sitting in the very last row stood up and picked it up. With careful hands she handed the jacket over.

"Oh, you poor thing. Are you alright? Here's your jacket," she said with deep concern.

But suddenly the man grabbed the mother's arm. Without realizing it his nails had grown long. The man's face changed completely. His eyes blazed gold, his fangs especially the upper ones grew to an inhuman length. Saliva dripped around his mouth.

"Blood! I need blood!" he screamed loudly in a voice both hoarse and shrill at once. At that moment, thunder roared in unison with heavy rain slamming against the train windows again and again.

With wild desperation the man bit into the mother's neck. Blood gushed, staining the man's face and the side of the mother's. The mother's heartbreaking scream pierced every ear in the carriage, followed by a dozen other cries just as loud. Many passengers pulled away from the area, colliding and piling into one another.

Only Sylv remained standing at his seat. He had no way out — the vampire and his victim were right in his path. But it wasn't only that keeping him from moving.

Fear had destroyed every nerve in his body. Sylv was unable to move even slightly.

This is bad…. Trueform Emergence. That man is a Vampire!