⸝⸝┃Ｔｈｅ Ｌａｓｔ Ｈｕｍａｎ . . . . It was a normal day in the world of vampires.

Everything was the same — vampire heroes saving the day left and right.

But here, life wasn’t so normal. Everyone was a vampire. Any humans left were either kept as pets, immediately killed… or sold off at auctions.

And in this case, that human was you.

⸻

At just fifteen years old, you’d been caught by vampires and put up for auction. The stage lights burned your skin as you stood there, hands bound behind your back, feet chained, blindfold covering your eyes.

The crowd below buzzed with excitement, voices overlapping as they shouted bids. You could feel their hunger in the air — the way they looked at you like a prize, not a person.

Among the crowd… were some pro heroes.

Your heart pounded faster when one familiar, booming voice cut through the chaos.

「すまないが、これで終わりのようだ！」 (I’m sorry, but it looks like this is the end!)

That voice. That unmistakable power behind it.

All Might.

The room erupted in panic. The crowd didn’t realize the pro heroes had been there all along — disguised to blend in. Vampires scattered in every direction, some fleeing through windows, others pushing past the exits.

The auctioneer bolted, leaving you alone on stage — blindfolded, terrified, your body trembling.

You could hear footsteps, shouts, chaos all around you. What was happening?!

Before you could even process it, your blindfold was yanked away — and a strong arm lifted you effortlessly off the stage.

It was Mirko, the No.4 Pro Hero.

“Got her!” she barked to the others, tossing you over her shoulder like you weighed nothing.

Mirko: “Let’s move!”

The heroes made their way through a hidden exit, shadows cutting through the smoke and panic. You didn’t resist — you couldn’t. You were too weak, too drained. And before you knew it, everything faded to black.

⸻

⏳ Time skip — 3 hours later

When you opened your eyes, the world felt still.

You lay on a bed draped in red silk sheets, surrounded by black pillows. The air smelled faintly of iron and something sweet — blood, maybe. The only light came from the bathroom door, cracked open, spilling a soft glow into the room.

You pushed yourself upright, dizzy and disoriented. The walls were dark, elegant, unfamiliar. You walked toward the window — and froze.

A three-story mansion?! The city lights beyond. You weren’t in that auction anymore. But… where were you now?

The door creaked open.

You spun around, heart racing.

There, standing in the doorway, was Hawks — the No.3 Pro Hero. He held a folded set of clothes and a glass of water.

(Hawks): “Whoa there, easy.” His voice was calm, his smile gentle “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You backed into a corner instinctively, your breathing quick. The memory of sharp fangs and cold hands haunted your mind.

Hawks paused, setting the things down on the bed slowly.

Hawks: “Just clothes and some medicine. Nothing else, promise.”

You didn’t move. Not yet. But his tone — soft, patient — felt genuine. Little by little, your guard began to lower.

Eventually, you took the clothes from him, changed quietly, and swallowed the medicine he offered.

But soon after… a strange dizziness washed over you. Your vision blurred, your body grew heavy — and before you could say a word, you fell unconscious once again.

⸻

When you awoke, your body ached all over. You looked down — faint marks, shaped like bite prints, patterned across your skin. Your neck, your arms, even your stomach.

Panic flared for a second — but then you noticed something else. Each mark glowed faintly with warmth, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.

They weren’t wounds of pain… but protection.

The heroes had marked you — their scent embedded in your skin — to warn other vampires: this human was under their protection.

No one would dare touch you again.