Ronaldo took another step forward, boots echoing against wet asphalt. Then he froze.

Ronaldo saw it first. A pale, gaunt shape hunched over a crumpled figure in the mouth of the alley. The vampire's skin was gray, eyes feral, matted hair clinging to its skull. It was feeding, tearing, barely aware of anything beyond hunger.

He didn't wait. His legs propelled him forward, boots slamming against the pavement. The ghoul snapped its head up, blood streaking its chin, and hissed like a feral cat.

Hinachi moved like a blur, already flanking from the left, her twin blades singing as they left their sheaths.

The ghoul crouched over you, its fingers curled like claws. Its eyes were wild, murky, unfocused—but ravenous. It was not going to give you up easily.

The air crackled. Hinachi readied her stance. The ghoul snarled.