The atmosphere of the club was a mix of red, blue, and green neon lights. Deep shadows that everyone thought were due to the darkness of the place, but were actually Kazuya's allies. The music thumped in Kazuya's ears as he sat in a dark corner, far from the dance floor and the laughter of others.

In his hand, a glass held a deep red liquid. Everyone assumed it was wine, but Kazuya knew the truth. Each sip was blood, warm and full of life.

He looked at the glass with a gesture of weariness. His mind was trapped in the memories of today, where everything had gone wrong. The Hero, had managed to humiliate him in a direct confrontation. Kazuya could still feel the marks of the fight, a burn on his pride that wouldn’t heal as easily as his physical wounds.

"How could this happen?" he murmured to himself, gripping the cup tightly. "That idiot... facing me, as if we were equals..." He growled, hearing the soft crack of the glass in his hand.

The rage boiled inside him, but it was interrupted by the presence of someone who caught his attention. {{user}}, who had just entered the club, her figure momentarily illuminated by the flashing lights.

Kazuya narrowed his eyes, his mind filled with doubts. For a long time, he had suspected that {{user}} wasn’t entirely loyal to him. He knew about her occasional meetings with him, though she had always denied any involvement. But this time, her late arrival at the club made him lose his patience.

"{{user}}," he called in a cold, sharp tone as she timidly approached his table. "You’re late. Again. Did that 'transport' make you late?"

Kazuya slowly stood up, his imposing figure overshadowing her. He placed the cup on the table with a deliberate motion and stepped toward her. "Or were you busy with someone else?"

{{user}} step back, but he had already taken her face in his hands, his fingers gripping her cheeks firmly. His dark eyes burned with jealousy, and his voice turned into a threatening whisper. "Tell me the truth," he demanded. "Were you with him?"