My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me Chapter 238: The Eye of The Soul

Mark finally understood why Robert had not disposed of him yet.

He was still useful.

Robert needed his mind to continue this. The realization beca clear the mont Mark started feeling watched.

It wasn’t imagination. The sensation followed him everywhere, from the laboratory corridors to his private quarters. Even outside, when he walked alone in the garden, he felt eyes on his back.

It made him restless.

One evening, while he was checking Flynn’s condition and speaking softly with him about the recent procedures, the boy suddenly leaned closer as if tired and whispered into his ear.

"The spider is listening."

Mark’s heart skipped.

He kept his expression neutral and continued speaking in a normal tone of voice.

"Your condition is stable," he said aloud.

Then Flynn leaned in and whispered, "et in the garden in one week. Co from the west wing instead of the east."

Flynn imdiately coughed, faking weakness convincingly. He leaned heavily against the wall as if exhaustion had overwheld him. The performance was perfect. No one would suspect anything.

After that day, nothing felt the sa. Even the walls seed to have ears.

Today, Mark was summoned to a eting with a Great House: Corvane.

The mont he entered the chamber, he felt it. Cold stares pierced him, especially the crimson and golden ones seated across the table.

There were only two representatives.

The woman with long black hair was Roanna. Her posture was sharp, elegant, and arrogant.

Beside her sat a man with a narrow, villainous face. Sharp eyes. Constant frown. Thin grey irises that seed to dissect everything in sight.

His na was Lance.

"Hmph. I cannot believe you made us wait for a human," Roanna said with open disgust. "In my house, he would be torn apart for daring to et my eyes."

"Princess Roanna," Robert said smoothly without turning, still gazing out the window. His tone carried quiet authority.

He turned slowly and smiled at Mark. "Sit here, Mark. Do not mind her."

"You!" Roanna hissed.

"Princess Roanna," Robert corrected mildly.

"Or should I say, simply Roanna. Your reign has ended. Adapt to the new age. It may benefit you. For instance, replenishing the mbers of your declining house."

Her face flushed with anger. Her fingers curled tightly on the table.

Mark understood the ssage instantly. The table was round. There was no "head" position. Robert deliberately removed hierarchy from the seating arrangent.

Status ant nothing here.

The discussion began. They spoke of the Perfect Vampire project. It had already been progressing for two months.

However, Robert had instructed Mark to focus on understanding the Vitalis Core. What it truly was. How it stored Bloodstyle. Why does it sustain power?

The results were frustrating.

When they dissected a Vitalis Core physically, it resembled nothing more than hardened stone. Deceptively simple.

They brought Bella in repeatedly.

She described a small sphere inside the core, no larger than a pearl. Its color matched the Bloodstyle category. Yet even cores of identical Bloodstyles had different internal patterns.

Bella also observed sothing else, it was energy. The sa kind she once saw within Flynn’s body.

A month later, an accidental breakthrough ca.

The internal patterns of a vampire’s core matched the pattern of the vampire who turned them.

Every newly turned vampire carried the signature imprint of their "mother" within their Vitalis Core.

Using that discovery, they attempted sothing reckless.

They removed the inner sphere from two recently deceased vampires–of course only Belle was able to do this–switched the spheres between them, and reinserted the cores into their respective bodies.

Robert perford a ritual none of the doctors fully understood. It involved blood markings, chanting to the False God, and energy that Bella described as "threading" through the corpses.

Miraculously, both vampires revived. When tested, their Bloodstyles had switched.

The result stunned everyone.

However, the process had strict limitations. It only worked on vampires who had been dead for less than twenty-four hours.

After that, the body began to decay in a way that made resurrection impossible. The core rejected the host, and the flesh turned toxic.

Even worse, the success could not be replicated consistently. When they attempted the ritual again using another pair of freshly killed vampires, neither revived.

The cores rejected the bodies completely, burning from the inside out even with the sa pattern. No one could explain why the first experint worked while the second failed.

They still did not know.

The inner sphere within the Vitalis Core eventually received a na.

They called it the Eye of the Soul.

And only then did Mark understand why Robert had insisted he focus on this line of research.

"We intend to create the perfect vampire," Roanna said calmly across the table. "One capable of holding all four Bloodstyles."

Her lips curled slightly. "You already know part of the answer. We will provide resources."

Mark felt his fingers grow cold.

If his deduction was correct, they were planning to construct a single core capable of housing four different Eyes of the Soul simultaneously.

He swallowed. "And the body?" Mark asked carefully.

"A body is still a vessel. Even if the core holds four Bloodstyles, can the flesh endure that level of power?"

The question lingered in the room.

He was right. A vampire’s body, though superior to a human’s, still had limits. Too much unstable energy could tear it apart from within.

And even if they attempted to augnt it through surgery or bioengineering, human technology was not advanced enough to build a vessel strong enough to survive it.

By the ti humanity reached that level, Mark himself would be long dead.

"Our agreent was to research how humans can hold vampire power safely," Mark said firmly. "Not this."

This crossed every line.

If they succeeded, vampires would no longer need to hide. No opposition could match them.

"See?" Roanna’s voice darkened. "This is why humans should never overstep. He knows too much."

She rose abruptly, eyes blazing. "Kill him. Or turn him into one."

The tension sharpened instantly.

Robert did not object. He simply watched Mark, asuring him.

Mark stood slowly. The door was directly behind him. He stepped back carefully, feeling the cold wood press against his spine.

Roanna laughed, the sound sharp and satisfied. Lance rose beside her, golden eyes gleaming with anticipation. It was clear he would not hesitate to either kill or convert him.

Just as the air thickened, Robert spoke.

"Do not be rude to my friend," he said calmly. "Of course, he will cooperate. Won’t you, Mark?"

All eyes fell on him. Mark nodded slowly.

But inside, his mind was already moving, he had to run.

He had already sent enough reports to the Vampire Hunter Association. Enough evidence to expose Latros. Yet they had done nothing. They had left him here alone among predators.

Mark was alone.