Chapter 2
Life's Tough, Blood Princess Hustles~
Inside a cramped rented room in Kronos's Eastern District.
Veiloria lay sprawled face-down on the living room floor, gasping heavily, her body trembling uncontrollably.
"Can't... I've already hit my limit..."
She staggered into the kitchen and pulled the last blood bag from the refrigerator. Her sharp fangs instantly pierced the packaging.
As the sweet, metallic liquid slid down her throat, the bloodlust that had been on the verge of spiraling out of control was finally suppressed.
"Huu..."
She let out a long breath, casually tossed the empty bag into the trash, and collapsed onto the sofa.
"What is even happening to my life..."
Her gaze drifted to a newspaper on the coffee table.
[Sword Saint Veilo Assassinated by Vampire, Falls Together with Attacker]
Fifteen years ago, she had come to the human lands to temper herself, assuming the identity of a human male adventurer named "Veilo."
Vampires were gifted with extraordinary talents—particularly in arcane curses and regenerative ability, which bordered on terrifying—but close-quarters combat had always been their weakness.
During those two years, she registered as an external-commission knight of the Holy See and trained in swordsmanship with a ferocity that bordered on madness. She sought out master after master, and the souls claimed by her blade were beyond counting.
In the end, through the sword in her hand and the mountain of merits she had accumulated, she earned the title "Wandering Sword Saint."
Even the upper echelons of the Federation had extended an olive branch to her, and the Silver Radiance Holy See had invited her to formally become their direct-command Knight King—though she had politely declined both.
It was also that same year that she met Ximilita.
The girl had been only 5 years old at the time, her meager bread just snatched away by a pack of street urchins. She was covered in wounds and bruises, yet her eyes held a stubborn defiance.
Veiloria, on a momentary impulse of soft-heartedness, had taken the girl away with her.
3 years.
She taught her to read. She taught her to hold a sword. And, without intending to, she awakened the dormant Judgment Angel bloodline sleeping within the girl.
She should have left after the third year... but because of that child, she had stayed two years more.
It wasn't as though Veiloria had never considered taking her along. It was simply that angels and Vampires... were born enemies.
And so, she had carefully engineered her own "death."
That night, she summoned her thrall, "Blood Moon Slaughterer," and staged a performance—an assassination and a mutual destruction.
She still remembered the sight of Ximilita weeping until her heart broke.
Veiloria stood in the shadows watching, emotions tangled.
But in the end, she still turned and walked away.
At the time, she had thought that was where their bond would end.
And yet, now...
Veiloria looked down at her trembling hands, then glanced at the tears and damage across her clothing.
‘Whatever. I'll bathe first…’
Ever since Vampire Capital had fallen, her income had been cut off. She could barely afford the blood needed to sustain even a bare minimum of survival, and her Arcane energy had been hovering at the edge of total depletion for a long time.
If not for that, she absolutely would not have been caught in such a miserable state today!
The last substitute-scroll she kept for emergencies had also burned up. If she encountered that again next time...
She shook her head and refused to think further.
Hot water slowly filled the bathtub. Veiloria sank into it, and the tension in her muscles finally began to ease.
The most pressing matter right now was money.
When she had first arrived in the Federation, most of what little she carried had gone toward forging her identity. The remainder—after paying a year's rent and food expenses—had finally run dry.
Even with her needs compressed to an absolute minimum, eating only once per week.
Because the legitimate channels for purchasing blood bags were complicated, and frequent purchases could easily arouse suspicion, she was forced to turn to the black market—which meant prices had doubled.
Today's battle had drained her Arcane energy to nothing, and on top of that, she had been forced to feed ahead of schedule.
A full year of investigation and she still had no leads, no idea where her mother was being held. It seemed rescuing her would have to be put on hold for now.
Because if she didn't get money soon, she might truly become the first Vampire princess in history to starve to death.
Something like that—absolutely not happening!
Veiloria: (╥﹏╥)
****
"Little miss, are you of age? We don't accept minors here."
Inside a certain nightclub, the woman behind the bar raised an eyebrow and looked Veiloria up and down.
"I—I'm of age!"
Veiloria hurriedly dug her papers out of her canvas bag and handed them over.
She was in her human form right now, appearing to the eye as nothing more than a girl standing around 160 centimeters tall—with plain, unremarkable features, nothing too eye-catching.
The substantial sum Veiloria had spent on forging an identity back then had been precisely for procuring the documents to support this form.
What? You're asking why Veiloria didn't just switch to a male body?
Well... it was mainly because, across all the years since she crossed over, the time she'd spent as a girl had nearly surpassed the time she'd spent as a boy, and she'd grown completely used to it...
Right, she'd simply gotten used to it. Absolutely not a case of having been "corrupted" by femininity or anything like that!
Absolutely not!!!
The woman took the documents, carefully cross-referenced the photo against Veiloria's face, turned them over and back several times to inspect the anti-forgery watermarks, and then finally retrieved a form from beneath the counter.
"Fill this out. As discussed, midnight to 6 a.m., fifty per hour. Tips you keep, but don't try anything funny." She tapped the form. "Trial period is 3 days—fail and you're out immediately. The clientele here... comes from complicated backgrounds, so remember to keep your eyes and your mouth in check."
Veiloria hesitated for a moment, then quickly filled out the form. She used "Lia" from her forged identity for her name, listed her age as 19, and scrawled a few random restaurant names in the work experience section.
If she had any other choice, she genuinely did not want to work in a place like this.
For one thing, nightclubs were the setting of countless disasters in the novels she'd read—she feared getting entangled in unnecessary trouble. For another, she had once been a Vampire princess! To be doing something like this now...
Unfortunately, the wages from her previous odd jobs had been far too meager to cover her day-to-day needs.
‘Sigh, life's tough, Blood Princess hustles~’
The woman collected the form, reached into the cabinet behind the counter, and handed over a black-and-white server's uniform.
"Changing room is over there. Get dressed and come out—you'll shadow Kassan today to get familiar with the flow."
Once changed, Veiloria was introduced to the woman called "Kassan."
She wore her hair in a high ponytail, her makeup flawlessly done, and was leaning against the bar lighting a cigarette. When she saw Veiloria, she gave a lift of her chin.
"New hire?"
"Y—yes, my name is Lia."
"Kassan." She blew out a ring of smoke and flicked the ash idly. "The rules are simple: guests place orders, you write them down, bring them to the bar, and when they're ready you take them back. Don't ask extra questions, don't look at things you shouldn't, and don't strike up conversation—especially near the VIP booths in the back."
She gestured toward the area behind the dance floor, partitioned off by dark-tinted glass. "There's dedicated staff for that section. Unless they call for you, don't go near it. Understood?"
"Got it—got it!" Veiloria nodded rapidly.
****
3 a.m. Veiloria carried her tray, run off her feet.
The occasional flirtatious glances thrown her way made her deeply uncomfortable, but there was nothing she could do—she could only keep her head down as much as possible to avoid them.
The air was a complex mixture: beneath the alcohol and perfume, she caught the faint but unmistakable smell of blood, and also... the scent of other races.
What humans commonly called the Non-Human.
Though she paid it no particular mind.
This was an underground nightclub in a human city. Having a few Non-Humans with concealed identities mingling among the crowd was hardly unusual. As long as they didn't bring trouble to her door, Veiloria had no interest in getting involved in anyone else's business.
"Hey, new girl! Two more Flamingo bottles over here!" A rotund, thoroughly drunk man waved her over.
"Right away, please hold on." Veiloria called back and turned toward the bar.
She set down the bottles and didn't linger a single second more, turning to head off and attend to the next customer.