Noblesse: Bloodbound

      I shouldered the door open and stepped inside.       Frankenstein sat at his desk, flipping through paperwork. Damn. Blue eyes, golden curls spilling over his shoulders. The lab coat draping over the suit only emphasized that sculpted frame. The glasses just polished the academic chic vibe. Smart is the new sexy. Too bad his heart belonged to Dark Spear and always would.       “Hmm… A transfer student,” Principal Lee mused, not bothering to look up. “That’s odd. There’s no document about…”       Then his fingers froze mid-page.       Slowly, deliberately, he removed his glasses.       And finally — finally — those piercing blue eyes locked onto mine.       Cue dramatic reveal: achievement unlocked. If shock value were an Olympic sport, we’d score gold. Frankie’s eyes went full anime-wide — dude just broke his own record for stunned silence.       “Y-you… are…!”       Coffee sloshed as he lunged to his feet, sending papers flying. For eight solid seconds he just stood there — a man who’d seen a ghost.       “It’s been a while, Frankenstein.” Why not– twist the knife?       Oops. Sorry Rai — your servant just blue-screened. After five full minutes of statue-like stillness, I gave up waiting for his reboot and took the tea table. Glanced around. The office screamed OCD aesthete — white walls, white floors, white furniture. A sterile lab. Fact.       “M-Master?”       Yeey. We were hitting all the story beats. But– really Frankie? Where were your eyes? This genius actually dropped to one knee.       His emotions were a live wire — one touch from disaster. Bet part of him was still arguing this was a hallucination. Or maybe some twisted test from his missing lord.       “I’ll guide you to him.” Calm. Measured. “Get up.”       His head snapped up. “You–” That stare could flay skin. “Who are you?”       Danger. Full confession wasn’t an option. Time for the verbal tango. He won’t actually murder me later… right? Breathe. He’s not the enemy. He’s the only variable I couldn’t predict… and my only exit strategy.       “Noblesse needs help. I will guide you.”       “The Master? All this time… How has he been–”       I let the silence stretch for two Mississippis. Let him stew.       “I don’t have an answer. But he might recover under your care.”       “What?” Frankenstein’s eyes narrowed — calculating whether to rip the truth from my throat or play along. I held still. Old lab instincts screamed to pretend unconscious, but the reports were clear: his obsession with the Master overrode everything. Even common sense.       “Right now, he’s asleep. It’s been eight centuries since you last saw him.”       “Eight hundred and twenty years…” The self-loathing in that whisper could‘ve corroded steel. “I searched everywhere. Found nothing. My incompetence–”       “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” And I meant it. “But the apartment’s close.” I stood up from the couch. “We’re burning daylight.”       Frankenstein straightened, his gaze dissecting me layer by layer. Creepy as hell. That mad-scientist-meets-serial-killer stare? Yeah, hard pass.       “I don’t trust you.” His fingers twitched — not attacking, just calculating. “But you’re not lying. I taste his power on you.” A step closer. “That’s more convincing than words. This isn’t over,” he added sternly, locking eyes with me. “I’ll have answers.”       “Wouldn’t expect otherwise.” Matched his glare. “Just remember– I’m not your enemy. I’m on His side.”       “Prove it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Directions. Now.”       “No address. I’ll map it. Or draw it.” My eyes darted to his desk– pencils, paper. “We need a ninja entrance. No traces.”       The Principal turned, pulled his laptop closer.       “Come here. Show me.” –slid the computer toward me.       Hmm, an online map?       “This is the school,” he highlighted the main building of Ye Ran with a green rectangle.       I squinted trying to recall. Okay, here’s the stele, the gates, the bike path, and the alley I walked through. Then the traffic light. Somewhere nearby should be the yellow café umbrellas. Bingo. And the blue building close by.       “There–” I tapped the screen.       Frankenstein leaned in.       “Fifth floor, second balcony from the right.”       His eyebrows arched.       “Don’t give me that look. Front door’s locked. And I forgot my lockpicks. Kicking it in isn’t an option. Balcony’s the only way in– I left it open.”       “Understood. Follow.”       Two minutes later, we were power-walking through sublevel two — because of course every ordinary Korean school had Bond-villain tunnels. Lucky me, lol. Going down to nowhere. With a stranger. Sightseeing catacombs. In bloody shonen. Don’t repeat it in real life, folks.       I focused on another crack in the tunnel wall. Bet Frankie would never have shown me these passages if not for his burning desire to get the Master back asap. I matched his stride exactly — not submission, but mimicry. Hope subconsciously he’ll begin to perceive me as a part of himself.       After thirteen hundred and fifty-four steps — yes, I counted! — we stopped at a steel door.       “We’re under the building across from our target. These tunnels connect to Seoul’s old bomb shelters,” Frankenstein explained.       Ah. Makes sense. Seventy years of Cold War tensions turned out to be good for the underground security system.       “We’ll take the roof. Then jump.”       I nodded. Sweet. Fast and undetectable.       Getting up was ridiculously simple: stairs to the underground parking, elevator to the top floor, then another short climb to the roof. Seven minutes later, I was standing on the edge, trying to spot the right balcony. Ugh, found it! I pointed.       “Sure?”       “Yes.”       “Then forgive the impropriety!”       “Wha–”       He scooped me up and jumped before I could protest. The sudden lurch sent my pulse crashing against my eardrums. I squeezed my eyes shut, not thinking about how far we’d fall if he missed. First of all, we won’t, I told myself. Second, even if we do, we’ll probably survive. Third — no, stop at two. My panicked lizard-brain wasn’t having it anyway.       His grip — too tight, too sudden — sent a jolt down my spine. Not his fault, I reminded myself. Those were other hands, other holds. The pounding in my skull doubled — my body wasn’t mine to control. Again. No sight. No sound. Just the jackhammer. And panic, chewing through my ribs. I tried not to lose consciousness in a blackout. In. Hold. Out. Repeat. In. Ho–       “Is that… a coffin?” Tense voice yanked me back to reality.       Huh? We’d already landed?       “Yes. He’s inside.”       Frankenstein deposited me like unstable chemicals — fast but not careless — before detonating toward the coffin. That choked gasp? Jackpot. He’d found his ‘precious’ at last.       Boom. Mission complete. N-73. Good job. Good job. Now don’t you dare faint.       “We’re leaving.”       I turned. The man stood in the doorway, coffin balanced on one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Showoff. When had he opened the door? And how?! Whatever — not my problem anymore. Let the M-duo deal with it…       I took an extra second to follow — let him taste my hesitation. Petty? Absolutely. But it was the only rebellion I had left.       The fire escape came with a surveillance camera. I pointed at it.       “I’ll erase it later. Move.”       Again, ridiculously simple— we slipped into another underground passage and reached the school’s sublevel in about fifteen minutes.       “Wait here,” his command hit like a whip.       Nodded. Obviously, he was going to his Batcave. Time to stash the treasure in a regeneration tank. Hope he’d find a way to help Raizel fast.       I slumped against the wall, hands shaking. Adrenaline crash hit like a truck. Get it together. Show weakness, and you’re dead.       Yes, I got what I wanted — the Master saved and handed off to his servant. But– what’s now? No shelter, no friends, no money. Just… nothing.       Tears welled up. Stop. No pity parties. Snap out of it!       “Are you hurt?”       I jumped. Ugh, he’d materialized behind me like a damn ghost. How long had he stood behind? Watching. Waiting. Creep.       “No, I’m fine,” I forced my voice to sound light and surprised.       “That’s a weird way to show ‘fine’?”       “Huh?” I wiped my face with my sleeve in one sharp motion. “Nerves. Relief.”       His skeptical eyebrow said bullshit.       “Two years. Seven hundred and three days of planning this escape. And now it’s over. Hard to believe.” A gamble– redirect to Raizel’s condition. “How is he?”       The question earned me five seconds of scalpel-sharp scrutiny before Frankenstein turned.       “My office.”       His voice could freeze lava.       “Move.”