"You’re the Mayor of Pittsburgh now, and as it happens, you’re a Democrat."

"I’ll just have to apologize to Warren."

"For the sake of this port, for these five hundred million US dollars, I want Murphy to win more than anyone."

"Go do it, Mr. Mayor."

Morganfield extended his hand to Leo.

"Get the money back. Get the port built."

"Together, we’ll rule this city."

Leo took that hand.

This time, his grip was tight.

He knew that every word he had just written was him selling his soul.

He had personally packaged and sold the city’s economic lifeline for the next fifty years to a greedy oligarch.

But he had no choice.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Douglas."

Leo released his hand.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he turned and left.

Morganfield’s phrase, "together, we," echoed in his ears.

Leo’s steps faltered for a moment. His lips moved slightly, forming words without a sound.

Not us.

Me.

He strode toward the door.

Ethan, who had been waiting by the door of the cigar lounge, came forward to meet him.

Through the crack in the door, which had not yet fully closed, he saw the scene inside.

Morganfield was sitting on the sofa, holding a wine glass.

A moment later, Leo emerged.

Ethan instinctively started to ask about the results of the negotiation, but the words caught in his throat and he swallowed them back down.

Leo stopped in front of him, adjusted his cuffs, then raised his head and gave him a detached glance.

There was no expression on his face. It was like a pool of stagnant, bottomless water that had swallowed every last trace of emotion.

The moment their eyes met, Ethan froze.

An unfamiliar chill shot up his spine and instantly spread through his entire body.

He had followed Leo for nearly a year. He had seen the young man’s easygoing nature while eating a boxed lunch on a construction site, and he had seen his sharp wit as he rebutted opponents on the debate stage.

But the man standing before him now felt like a complete stranger.

’This person isn’t Leo.’

’He could be a politician.’

’He could be a conspirator.’

’He could be a monster transforming in the pursuit of power.’

’But he was definitely not Leo Wallace.’

The two of them walked out of the main entrance of the Allegany Mountain Summit Club, and the cold night wind lashed at their faces.

Leo stopped and looked up at the pitch-black night sky.

’Mr. President,’ he said in his mind, ’talk to me.’

’What do you want me to say to you, Leo?’

’Do you want me to console you? To tell you that you’re still a pure idealist? To pat you on the head like a kindergarten teacher and say, "It’s okay, this is just a temporary measure, your heart is still pure"?’

’What you just did was filthy.’

’You made a Vampire a legitimate lord. That’s a fact.’

’But you traded a stain on your own morality for the survival of three hundred thousand people.’

’That’s a worthy trade.’

Roosevelt’s voice grew deeper.

’When you decide to save the lambs besieged by crocodiles, your only choice isn’t to stand on the shore and pray. It’s to jump in.’

’You must become more vicious than the crocodiles, more greedy than a Demon, and better at manipulating the hearts of men than the vilest politician.’

’You must seize destiny by the throat with your own hands.’

’Don’t look back at your shadow, child. The only thing there is the conscience you’ve lost.’

’Walk forward, even if you must tread on daggers and walk through fire.’

The black Lincoln sedan was already parked at the entrance, its engine running, spewing white exhaust.

Ethan stood by the rear passenger door, holding it open as he waited.

Leo stopped in his tracks.

He glanced at the open car door. Inside, it was warm and comfortable, with leather seats and a silence that shut out the clamor of the outside world.

That was a place where a mayor belonged.

"No need."

Leo said aloud.

Ethan paused, surprised. "Mr. Mayor, we’re far from the city center. The road isn’t easy to walk..."

"I said, there’s no need."

Leo didn’t explain, nor did he look at Ethan.

He just waved his hand, a gesture that was part dismissal, part farewell.

"Go back on your own, Ethan. Take the documents. I want to see them turned into a formal contract by tomorrow morning."

"But..."

"That’s an order."

Ethan opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing.

He closed the car door and got into the front passenger seat.

The black Lincoln sedan slid slowly into the night, its red taillights receding down the winding mountain road until they vanished.

Leo stood alone on the summit.

A dead silence surrounded him. Only the distant lights of downtown Pittsburgh flickered, like a field of burning embers.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket, letting the cold wind pour into his shirt and lash against his searing chest.

He started to walk slowly down the asphalt road that led down the mountain.

The sound of his leather shoes on the loose gravel was exceptionally clear in the vast emptiness of the night.

One step, then another.

Suddenly, Leo felt a strange itch on the back of his neck.

It was an itch that seemed to emanate from deep within his skin, perhaps even from the marrow of his bones.

It was as if something was trying to forcibly grow, pushing through his once-soft skin.

Leo subconsciously reached up to touch the back of his neck.

His fingertips brushed against a patch of skin.

It had become hard, cold, and rough.

He scratched at it forcefully. As his nails scraped across the skin, it felt as if a hard scale had just formed over the back of his neck.

Leo stopped walking.

He stood in the middle of the dark mountain road, his hand still resting on that strange spot on his neck.

There were no scales.

But he had felt the texture with vivid clarity.

It was the hide of a crocodile, the scale of a dragon.

It was the armor he had been forced to evolve to survive in this cruel coliseum.

’If you don’t become a monster, you can’t defeat a monster.’

’If you don’t grow fangs, you can’t bite through the chains.’

Leo lowered his hand.

He looked down at the city below, nestled by the Monongahela River.

In the darkness, the steel jungle seemed to transform into a slumbering beast.

And now, he was a beast as well.

He was even hungrier, even colder than that beast.

Leo straightened his wind-tousled collar, covering the nonexistent "scale" on the back of his neck.

He began to walk again, heading toward the lights of the city below.

Toward the world that was waiting for him to tear into, to conquer, to rule.