My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me Chapter 92: Reunion

"Wait, are you sure you want to go in there?" Lulu asked again as they neared the looming C Building.

Her voice wavered, but her steps did not. "Why don’t we wait for Seamus, just in case?"

"No. If we wait, they’ll vanish again," David said, his jaw tightening.

This could be the answer he had been searching for. Elle... his daughter. She must be the perfected experint, the one that finally succeeded.

The thought alone was a blade twisting in his chest. He couldn’t imagine the tornt she must have endured inside that place.

"You’re just a human! You’ll die!" Lulu suddenly snapped.

The timid, awkward girl who usually kept her head down was gone; in her place stood soone fierce enough to make the group halt.

"Chief, maybe you should listen to her," Maria said softly, her voice trembling. "I... I feel the sa way."

David stopped at last, the building’s shadow stretching toward him. He let out a slow, heavy breath. "Fine. You and Lulu go find Seamus. I’ll go in alone."

"No! I’m coming with you!" Dylan said, his eyes blazing.

"You’re still weak. You’ll only slow down." David’s tone was flat but not cruel. He knew this boy was desperate to prove himself, to kill a vampire, to show his worth.

But this wasn’t so mindless scavenger starved of blood and stripped of its style. Even Lulu, an A-rank vampire, hesitated to cross the threshold.

Dylan frowned, his hands tightening at his sides. "I won’t be your burden. If it gets bad, I’ll run. Whatever happens — even if I die — it’s on ."

David understood him too well. He had once been a young, reckless hunter himself, convinced he could take on anything. Then reality had hit like a hamr.

"Fine," David said at last. "Just stay out of my way."

With that, the group split, each heading toward their own path and purpose.

***

Building C reeked of blood and rot. Not the ordinary rotten scent of scavengers David had dealt with before, this slled like the underground lab he once entered, the sa chemical-sweet spoilage under everything.

The first floor was brown with dried blood; paint peeled from the walls and dust covered every surface. Trees and grass nearby had withered.

"Why does this look abandoned?" Dylan asked, sweat beading on his temple.

"It’s a side effect of too much vampire blood spilled in one place," David said. "The environnt just goes dead and rusts."

Dylan swallowed. David felt the sword in his hand tremble with a hunger he didn’t like. The blade wanted to drink, to cut. He forced the feeling down.

Gunshots and a scream hissed from the second floor. David grabbed Dylan’s arm and they sprinted for the stairs.

Scavengers pressed at them from the landing, black blood spraying as David cut them down. Still, they rose, seams resewn, as if moved by invisible strings.

"Dominion blood style," David spat. "Leave them, Dylan. It’s a waste."

Dylan hesitated mid-swing, then let the corpse drop. They pushed on, scavengers clinging with hands, torsos, anything left. It was grotesque; a hand might still reach and grab their boot.

At the top of the stairs, a man stood in the middle of it all, shifting a pistol into a dagger. He moved with a practiced calm, slashing crimson threads that no one else could see because of how thin it was.

The five scavengers around him collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.

"You... you finally decided to help us?"

"No," the man said quietly. "I just want my son back."

David blinked. He had seen this man after a long ti in this cursed town, years earlier, standing outside a shop with a sleeping child in his car and a soda in his hand.

It reminds him of their past together, the genius versus the hard worker and now they ironically ended up in this small unknown place.

Back then his eyes were empty in a different way; he’d thought the man dead, punished for past unforgivable cris as his past glory fell with him the sa way as him. But here he was, alive as they talked again after a long while.

"What are you doing here? Do you want to be killed?" David had asked then, incredulous.

The man had taken a long drag of his cigarette and answered: "I traveled. This town is the safest I’ve found."

"With Velstrath here? You don’t know how much trouble they are." David had warned.

"They’re better than the hunters," the man had said, gripping the soda can until the tal creased. He’d tossed it in a nearby bin. "I won’t trust the hunters anymore."

"You’re insane."

"Just... watch my son if I can’t. My vengeance isn’t over." His voice had been steady.

David stood up, Even for him, this was ridiculous. "You want to kill all of them? You know Vampire Hunter Association, will crumble—"

"Who said it’s only a vampire hunter? It’s everyone who dared to drove my wife to her miserable end, I will kill them all." His eyes darkened, and David realized now that he couldn’t stop him.

The mory cut off as a new surge of power rolled up from the third floor. The group exchanged looks and ran as fast as they could. They couldn’t miss this chance.

They reached the classroom door and stopped. A thin hum—like a lody winding down—ca from inside. David threw the door open and his eyes went wide.

"Elle—" he said.

His eyes lit up the mont he saw his daughter sitting on the edge of the window. As he stepped inside, the world shifted. He was no longer in the ruined building but in his daughter’s room.

A soft pink sanctuary unfolded around him: frilled curtains, a princess-style canopy bed, and shelves lined with dolls. Even the faint scent of cotton candy clung to the air as Elle’s gaze turned toward him.

"Daddy, you’re finally ho!" chirped Elle, the cute little girl with blonde twin tails and bouncing ribbons. She hopped down, hurrying to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

David’s fingers brushed over the pink dress she loved most. The fabric felt exactly the sa as the last ti he held her beneath his touch.

"No... this can’t be real. I’m in Bork, fighting scavengers..." he murmured to himself, knowing it was all just an illusion, yet it felt far too real even for him.

"What are you saying, Daddy? Bork? What is that?"

Elle asked, her wide blue eyes soft as the sky and full of questions. After all, she had died before he was transferred into this cursed town.

He dropped to his knees, hands gripping her small shoulders. "I’m sorry... but you aren’t my Elle." His palms slid up to her neck, squeezing as he closed his eyes, unable to watch.

This was clearly a Psychic blood style. He just didn’t know what form it took, dream manipulation like Isolde’s, hallucination, or sothing even stranger.

But one thing was certain: they had used his mory of Elle to weaken him. Rage and grief burned through him. It wouldn’t work. Never.

Yet his determination began to waver as her confused cries and pleading broke through. Tears soaked his hands; her tiny fingers trembled, trying to pry him away.

"Daddy, why are you doing this?"

"I’m so scared, Daddy, don’t do this."

"S-stop... I can’t breathe..."

The sound of her voice was maddening. His grip loosened. She crumpled to the floor, coughing, her face tinged blue.

His hands shook. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. He scooped her up, clutching her tightly. "I’m sorry... I didn’t an to..."

Elle still sobbed but her little hands clung to him as he carried her to the bed. He scanned the room, every detail exactly as he rembered from his daughter’s room.

’There must be a way out without killing her.’

As he pondered, Elle’s small hand slid over his. "Daddy... don’t leave anymore. Stay here. Tell a story like you used to."

David’s heart swelled. This might be the perfect chance to talk to his daughter—who was still exactly as she’d been—for the last ti.

He held her hands tightly. "Listen. In the future, we’ll be separated. I’ll make a mistake you might never forgive, and I’ll never forgive myself even in the distant future."

His voice trembled as he looked at her confused face.

"My daughter, my only love... I apologize for never having ti with you, for breaking my promises. In the future, I’ll co for you. I’ll make sure you’re back on my side, and I’ll never let go of your hand again."

"Daddy..." Elle’s eyes trembled.

Then, a heartbeat later, her gaze sharpened and went empty. Her skin flushed crimson, her body slicked with blood as she spoke in a flat, cold tone: "You are a liar."

David’s eyes widened as sharp pain lanced through his abdon. Slowly he looked down and saw her small hands buried in his stomach, blood pouring between her fingers.

"You..."