The sun had long dipped below the skyline, hiding behind the skeletal silhouettes of metal towers and rusted buildings. Streetlights flickered on with a lazy hum, casting elongated shadows across the cracked roads. The city never really slept—it only changed its mask.
Rahul was tired.
The soles of his shoes were nearly worn through, his stomach grumbling from a single piece of bread, and the weight of uncertainty pressed down on his shoulders like a soaked blanket.
He didn't find a job. Not one.
So he went back to where he had slept the night before—under the bridge. It was the only shelter he knew.
But when he reached the shaded, graffiti-stained area beneath the overpass…
Everything had changed.
The beggars were gone.
Instead, five men in gray suits sat calmly around the firepit where the homeless had warmed their hands just last night.
They didn't look like people who belonged here.
Each one was well-dressed. Their hair slick. Their eyes sharp like razors. But it wasn't just the suits. It was their stillness—the way they didn't talk, didn't move, didn't even blink. They sat like predators in human skin.
Rahul immediately felt it—trouble.
He took a step back, thinking, Not my place. I'll find somewhere else.
But just as he turned to leave—
A figure blocked the road.
Rahul nearly bumped into him.
The man was massive. Not just in size, but in presence. Towering and broad-shouldered, wearing the same gray suit. His arms were thick like tree trunks, and a scar ran across his jaw like a question mark with no answer.
Rahul tried to move sideways.
The man stepped the same direction.
He tried again. Same result.
Frustrated but calm, Rahul looked up at him.
Before he could speak, the man said, "Boy. I heard you're looking for a job."
His voice was low and heavy, like thunder just before the rain.
Rahul blinked. "What?"
"A job," the man repeated. "I've got one. Salary: 30,000 rp a month."
Rahul stared at him, dumbfounded.
Thirty thousand? That was more than a fortune in his current state. More than he'd hoped for. He had barely 20,590 rp, and that was slipping away daily.
Still… this felt wrong. These weren't hiring agents. This wasn't a store or an office. Why were they here under a bridge, offering salaries like candy?
"You seem… troubled," the man said, not unkindly.
Rahul didn't answer.
"I won't lie," the man continued. "We are not the cleanest people. But we're not villains either. Your pay will increase with performance."
Performance? Rahul swallowed dryly.
"Can I ask—what kind of job?"
The man smiled for the first time.
"Good," he said. "At least you're smart enough to ask."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was an application form—neat, typed, even had a spot for a signature.
Rahul took it, skimming the lines. He barely understood any of the legal jargon. There was nothing specific written about the job, just an organization name:
> Bloodblom Family - Division 9, Urban Outreach Wing
Rahul raised an eyebrow.
"Sign it," the man said.
Rahul hesitated.
He looked down at the form. This is a bad idea. Every cell in my body knows it.
But… his stomach growled again. His money was running out. And something about this whole situation—his rebirth, his powers, the marble in his pocket, the moment by the river—everything was already off the rails.
Maybe this was fate.
His hand moved slowly to the paper.
He signed.
The moment the ink dried, a faint spark shimmered across the paper, like a digital scan had just completed.
The man took the form back.
"From now on," he said, "you are part of the Bloodblom Family."
He paused, watching Rahul's reaction.
"We are a spy organization."
Rahul's brows raised. He blinked. "Okay."
No fear. No resistance. Maybe because he didn't care anymore. Or maybe because he knew deep inside, he had already stepped into a world where nothing was ordinary anymore.
The man clapped his hand once.
From behind, the other gray-suited men stood up in unison. One of them nodded and pulled out a sleek black bag, throwing it toward Rahul.
"Uniform," the man said. "You start tonight."
Rahul caught the bag.
"Wait, tonight?"
"No point wasting time." The man gestured toward a black car parked at the end of the alley, engine running. "You've already wasted enough of it, haven't you?"
Rahul didn't answer.
He looked at the car, then back at the bridge.
This was his third day in this world.
His mother was dead. His father forced him to flee. He had awakened two cores, gained an Avtar, and punched a street thief unconscious. Now he was being recruited by a spy organization under a bridge.
This life was not what he wanted.
He wanted lazy power. He wanted to sit in a room, gain strength, have people love him, respect him, fear him—all without moving.
But that's not what he was getting.
And yet… he walked toward the car.
Because somewhere deep inside, something was burning now.
And that something whispered—
"This time, don't be the loser again."
.
.
.
The hotel room smelled of lavender and steam.
Rahul stood under the warm stream of the shower, his eyes closed, his head tilted back as the water ran down his face and neck. There was a strange calm in the air. For the first time since that night on the river… he felt at peace.
Water.
He used to fear it—deep water, cold rivers, drowning. But now… he liked it. There was something comforting about it. Something natural. Maybe it was the influence of the core… or the creature inside him. The Avtar. The Water Snake-Alligator.
He didn't know. He didn't really care. He just let the warmth soak in, a rare moment of stillness in a life that had recently become anything but normal.
Suddenly—
Knock knock.
He turned, startled.
Before he could ask who it was, the bathroom door opened slowly.
A woman stepped in.
She was tall, maybe ten years older than him, and unlike anyone he'd seen before. Her hair was an unnatural shade of blue, like ocean waves under moonlight, and her eyes looked heavy—sleepy, distant, like she was floating between dreams and reality.
She said nothing.
Just entered quietly and closed the door behind her.
That night, something happened. Something Rahul never expected.
In both his lives, that night became the one where he lost his virginity.
And yet… it didn't feel like a victory.
It didn't feel like something beautiful.
When he woke up, the room was quiet.
She was gone.
The side of the bed where she had laid held only the memory of her presence… and a small, unmistakable mark of blood on the sheets. His heart thudded as he stared at it.
He tried to remember her face.
The blue hair. The distant eyes. The silence.
Now that he thought about it—her gaze had seemed cloudy… almost drugged. Was she okay? Was she even there by her own will? Was this something planned by someone else?
He didn't know.
And worst of all, he didn't even know her name.
Rahul sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at his feet. The hotel room felt colder now, and not because of the air conditioning.
I hate one-night stands…
And yet I just had one.
He clenched his fists. He felt confused, angry, and mostly… hollow.
---
Knock knock.
Another knock. This time loud and firm.
A voice followed. "Get ready. We have to go to the office."
Rahul snapped out of his daze.
He stood, brushed his teeth, splashed cold water on his face, and dressed in the new black suit laid out for him. It was sleek, perfectly tailored, and had the Bloodblom crest—an intricate red flower with a dagger piercing through its center.
He left the room.
The same bulky man from last night stood waiting outside, hands folded behind his back.
No words were exchanged. The man simply nodded toward the car—a sleek black sedan—and opened the door.
Rahul slid inside.
The car pulled away silently, the city passing by in blurred streaks of color. Tall buildings, neon signs, and a thousand strangers walking with purpose. But one building… stood above them all.
Like a steel mountain, it pierced the clouds.
Towering, intimidating, and strangely elegant.
Its glass exterior shimmered as if absorbing light itself.
As they got closer, Rahul stared up at the Bloodblom Tower.
The man spoke for the first time since the hotel. "This is your new workplace. From now on, you will live, train, and operate out of this tower."
Rahul didn't reply. His thoughts were still drifting—between the river, the woman, his father, the strange core that now beat silently inside his body.
The car turned into a private entrance beneath the tower.
As they drove into the underground garage, Rahul realized one thing—
I can't go back.
From here on, everything would change.
And even if the path ahead was dark…
He was already too deep in the shadows to turn around.