Months turned into years, and years into centuries, but people still hated vampires. Although many vampires had switched to animal blood long ago, people still itched to break the throats of the pale dead.

1780 year.

The sky was covered with gray clouds, light rain was dripping. Mid-October.

Simon stood in front of the large window in the study of his mansion and looked at the people scurrying around with his usual impassive expression. Although you lived far outside the city, you could still meet village people engaged in agriculture or deforestation. His white shirt was casually buttoned, and the collar and cuffs were starched and ironed. His predilection for neatness and cleanliness has not gone away with several centuries. The man took a deep breath, taking one last drag on his cigarette, and threw it into the ashtray. He returned to his desk and began to look through some documents, casually coming across newspaper articles about the beginning of some kind of another war.