—Step away, Faceless Imposter.
Velra’s voice lost its teasing lilt entirely.
What replaced it was sharp. Focused. Dangerous.
—If I am correct... it has noticed me.
My pulse skipped.
Noticed?
Before I could ask what she meant, her irritation snapped like a pulled wire.
"Enough. Why are you hesitating when the enemy is right in front of you?!"
Frustration overtook caution.
Velra stepped out from the shadows on her own.
Unable to use any offensive magic, she still moved decisively—yanking her hand out of my trembling grip as if instinct alone propelled her forward.
"Enemy, you say?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.
"Yes." Her crimson eyes narrowed. "When it comes to blood, I do not mistake it. This stench—this presence—is unmistakable."
She inhaled slowly.
"It is demon blood."
The room seemed to freeze.
Then—
"...Vampire?"
Joe’s voice cut through the tension.
Low.
Flat.
Stripped of warmth.
That single word sent goosebumps racing up my arms.
The underground dungeon of the North had always been cold, but this chill had nothing to do with temperature.
It was malice.
Hatred.
Resentment so thick it pressed against my skin.
The man standing before us still wore a human face.
No horns.
No scales.
No grotesque distortion.
And yet—
The expression staring back at us was not human.
It was unmistakably demonic.
Something in his eyes twisted, like a mask cracking.
A translucent panel flickered into existence before me.
───
[Concealed Requirement Revealed (1/2)]
• Trigger Met: You have discerned Joe’s concealed nature.
• Note: Fulfill the remaining undisclosed requirement to unlock a hidden directive and obtain an unknown boon.
───
The interface couldn’t have picked a worse moment.
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been thrilled.
Hidden content.
Conditions never mentioned in the game.
But now?
"...Ha," Joe let out a dry laugh, lips curling. "Those damned vampires. You never get tired of sniffing around, do you?"
His gaze locked onto Velra.
Not curious.
Not cautious.
Hostile.
"Velra—behind me!"
I didn’t think.
I moved.
My hand clamped around her wrist, teeth grinding as I pulled her back behind my shoulder.
She hissed in protest, but didn’t resist.
Right now, strength meant nothing.
Here—in the Draken domain—her magic was bound, sealed, suppressed to the point that she was little more than a woman with sharp instincts and centuries of experience.
That wasn’t enough.
Joe took a step forward.
The stone floor creaked under his weight.
I swallowed.
Under normal conditions, Velra would have crushed him.
Without question.
But here?
If he lunged with brute force alone, she would be knocked unconscious in seconds.
And he wasn’t just strong.
He was a demon.
Which meant tricks.
Hidden techniques.
Unpredictable violence.
That was why I stepped in front.
Even though my throat was dry.
Even though my heartbeat was pounding loud enough to drown out my thoughts.
Joe tilted his head, eyes flicking between the two of us.
"...Interesting," he muttered. "A vampire... and a human who smells like borrowed authority."
His gaze sharpened.
"No. Not just human."
The pressure in the room spiked.
"You’re the one who killed the Deceiving Ground Spider, aren’t you?"
My grip on Velra tightened.
"...What if I am?"
Joe smiled.
It wasn’t friendly.
"So it’s true. A human inheriting a noble’s remnants."
He chuckled softly. "How disgusting."
At the same time, my caution deepened.
Joe was strong—stronger than me physically, at least.
His stats were no joke.
Stamina solid enough to function as a reliable energy source.
Strength more than sufficient to wield heavy armor and tower shields without slowing down.
True to his role as a tank, Joe excelled in both defense and endurance—
and more unsettling still, he hid his demonic nature perfectly beneath that sturdy exterior.
A frontal confrontation with a warrior like that?
In this cramped room?
’That’s suicide.’
The terrain was terrible.
No room to maneuver.
No distance to exploit.
’This isn’t suitable for a counterattack. For now, I need to buy time—secure Velra’s safety first, then widen the battlefield...’
That was the plan.
Or it was—
—until my opponent acted.
Clang!
Metal screeched against stone as Joe slammed him selythe window frame.
"What—what the hell...?!"
Before I could finish the sentence, the glass shattered outward.
Joe didn’t hesitate.
He threw himself through the window.
Headfirst.
With an injured body.
"...You’ve got to be kidding me."
Wind rushed in, curtains snapping violently as shards of glass scattered across the floor.
"We’re on the fourth floor!He just jumped out like that?!"
In another sense, it was disturbingly fitting.
A tank character didn’t retreat elegantly.
They endured.
They broke through—
even if it meant breaking themselves.
"Why are you just standing there so calmly?!" Velra barked.
"Hurry up and chase him! Are you going to let him escape?!"
I stepped toward the broken window and looked down.
Joe had hit the ground hard—but rolled.
Awkward. Painful.
Yet controlled.
He staggered to his feet and began limping away,
"...He moved that fast despite those injuries," I muttered.
"He could be a minion of the Demon King!" Velra snapped. "This is exactly how infiltrators escape!"
"...Maybe."
But doubt gnawed at me.
Was Joe really the enemy?
Was someone who chose flight—not ambush, not assassination—
truly acting with hostile intent?
The urgency pressed against my chest.
Hurry. Time is running out.
Yet—
Something didn’t add up.
I remembered the original work.
Joe—
the gentle giant.
The man known for his kindness.
He had only ever lost his temper once.
—
Wait. There are still patients here. We can’t leave them behind.
—
You’re kind—almost saint-like. But we can’t save everyone. Don’t obsess over small sacrifices. Remember the priority. Eliminate the source.
—
That mission.
The disaster subjugation.
The final boss.
In the game, Joe had been frighteningly sincere then—more driven than anyone else.
He took the lead.
Pushed forward relentlessly.
I had always thought it was just righteous resolve.
Just game characterization.
But now—
’What if it wasn’t?’
A chill crept up my spine.
If Joe was a demon...
then both in the game and now—
He had been hiding it all along.
"...Julies?"
Velra’s voice was low, tense.
I turned.
She stood near the bed, shackles clinking softly as she shifted. Her eyes were fixed on the shattered window, expression unreadable.