SJR Chapter 1 (Part 2)

* * *

Jonathan left after saying he’d let Jay know if he learned anything about John Stalker’s whereabouts.
He wasn’t alone—someone Jay didn’t recognize was with him.

See? A big guy with red hair and a red beard has it easy when it comes to finding prey.

In contrast, for an East Asian man like Jay, finding prey was much harder in many ways. Maybe it was because he had become a vampire before his body had fully matured.

Still, thanks to the many military officers in his ancestry, he stood around 5’9”. But these days, that wasn’t exactly tall—it was an average height scattered all over the city.

Even so, thanks to K-pop stars, there were plenty of people—regardless of gender—who were into pretty guys around Jay’s size.

Not that I have any intention of letting a man top me, he thought.

In truth, many men had tried to go after Jay. For centuries, men of all races had desired him. But Jay, having been born male, wasn’t keen on surrendering himself in that way.

There had been large, rude men who tried to take him by force. But no matter how big a human might be, they couldn’t overpower a vampire’s body.

In his younger, more foolish days, he had even gone so far as to give in to some of them. But these days, he’d cooled down—he’d just drink a little blood and erase their memories before sending them on their way.

The truth was, Jay didn’t like big guys much anymore.

He used to be okay with them, but now their blood tasted weird. Probably because of all the steroids they took.

Drinking the blood of a steroid-using human made Jay feel like he’d come down with the flu—his whole body ached. His heart, already fast due to blood hunger, would go berserk with all the extra chemicals, like it was going to explode.

If a human’s heart were really beating that fast, they’d die of an aortic rupture.

But a vampire doesn’t die—they just suffer.

Honestly, garlic, crosses, and silver had nothing on steroids when it came to vampire deterrents.

Jay preferred prey who were men of similar height to him, or women over 5 feet tall.

He preferred men slightly more, because he could drink more blood from them without issue.

Most young women lacked iron, and many suffered from anemia or low blood pressure, so he had to be careful with them. Postmenopausal women had weaker bodies, which posed other risks. And as for girls who hadn’t even had their first period—

…That’s a crime.

He never touched minors, regardless of gender. Jay had no intention of engaging in any pedophilic depravity.

Even in vampire society, drinking the blood of young boys or girls was taboo. It wasn’t considered a “preference.”

If rumors ever spread that he’d fed on a child, he’d never be able to live in the vampire world again.

“…”

While working, Jay kept feeling someone’s eyes on him.

He looked around but couldn’t find the source.

Am I imagining it? He doubted it, but returned his focus to his work.

It was close to closing time when a woman approached the bar and leaned against it, giggling. Her cheeks were flushed—she’d definitely been drinking.

She looked at Jay and asked,
“What country are you from?”

“I’m American. Born in New York, raised in New Jersey.”

That was the story of “Jay Taylor.” That was the official backstory.

Shin Jae-yi had arrived in America long before most people’s ancestors had, but he didn’t feel the need to mention it.

The woman looked apologetic.
“Oh, I didn’t mean that… I meant your original background. Sorry.”

“My parents are from Korea.”

“Ah.”

“You’re not going to ask if it’s the North or the South, right?”

Jay grinned as he asked. The woman laughed and said she figured it was the South.

Well… if one were being precise, Shin Jae-yi’s family had settled in Gaeseong, so technically it might be the North.

“Anyway, I’m Emma.”

“Jay.”

“So, Jay, what are you doing after work?”

“I don’t have anything planned…”

As he said that, he placed his hand on the table.

Vampires could seduce with just a brush of their fingertips, so he avoided physical contact unless he was sure.

A date wasn’t a big deal, but if someone got too forward before he’d even finished work, it would be a problem.

Jay didn’t want to get fired from this bar.

Cafés weren’t great for seduction, and he didn’t have the connections to find a new job quickly.

“If I had the honor of spending time with someone as beautiful as you…”

It was just a throwaway line, but Emma smiled.

Watching from the side, one of Jay’s fellow bartenders kept glancing at them, thinking, No matter how many times I look at him, Jay Taylor’s just a regular-looking Asian guy. So why is everyone so damn generous with him?

“Do you live nearby?” Emma asked.

“My place is near Chinatown.”

“But you’re Korean?”

“Yeah, people say that a lot.”

Jay had lived in Chinatown so long that the idea of finding a new neighborhood just felt like a hassle.

Still, he had recently started thinking it might be time to move. He usually avoided close contact with people when walking around town, but lately, more and more people seemed to be giving him odd looks.

Well, it wasn’t surprising—he’d been living in the same district, with the same face, for centuries. Of course people would get suspicious eventually.

Maybe I really should move nearby next time, Jay thought, then leaned toward the woman and whispered,

“Give me ten minutes.”

Then he turned to his coworker Kyle and whispered.

“Ten minutes early—think that’s okay?”

“You slut,” Kyle muttered.

“Not my fault you’re unpopular,” Jay replied with a smirk.

Kyle flinched. That look—eyes narrowed into a seductive smile—it always gave him a strange feeling. Like Jay was casting some kind of spell. His eyes were too sensual. Kyle shook his head.

I’m straight. That slutty bastard seduces anyone and everyone, leaking that weird sexual energy all over the place, but I’m straight. I can’t fall for it.

“What the hell do people see in some scrawny-ass Asian guy? Seriously, I’m obviously the better option.”

“Look in the mirror, Kyle. You’re not exactly easy on the eyes.”

Jay wiped his hands, untied his apron, and gave himself a quick glance in the mirror before stepping out.

Kyle’s expression turned strange. The woman’s did too.

“Sorry, Jay. Someone else showed up.”

What?

Jay blinked. He had only washed his hands and taken off his apron—it hadn’t even been a full minute.

Not far away stood a tall man. Jay had to tilt his head back to see his face. He had to be at least four inches taller than Jay—maybe over 6’2″.

“Ah.”

Jay exhaled, and Kyle snickered beside him.

“Can’t be helped.”

The blonde man wasn’t just tall—his face was striking. His features were perfectly balanced, with long, almond-shaped eyes that made his expression cool and effortless.

Jay couldn’t tell the exact eye color in the dim light, but the way his pupils dilated suggested they were light-colored.

He checked his wristwatch—not a smartwatch like everyone else wore, but a classic metal one. The brand wasn’t visible.

“See you next time,” Jay said with a small smile.

The woman stood, a little apologetic, and walked toward the man. She said something, and he smiled.

When his lips curled up and his eyes narrowed into crescents, his whole face lit up.

He slipped his hand around her waist and casually glanced toward the bar.

For a moment, Jay felt their eyes meet.

But then the man turned his head, smoothly escorted the woman, and walked out of the bar.

“Damn, he’s beautiful,” Jay muttered.

Kyle stared at him in disbelief.

Isn’t he embarrassed at all? That guy just snatched away a girl he might’ve gone home with, and here he is, admiring his face?

“Average, at best,” Kyle scoffed.

“Are your eyes just decoration?”

“…”

“He’s seriously hot.”

“It’s just the blond hair. If I had blond hair, it’d be different too.”

You do have blond hair…

Well, more like light brown, but Kyle always insisted on calling it golden-blond.

It didn’t hold up as an excuse.

“Your face is the problem,” Jay said.

Kyle couldn’t accept that. He wasn’t bad-looking. No one ever said he was ugly to his face.

Of course, if Jay had heard that, he’d probably say, Who would even bother telling you to your face?

Maybe only Jay would.

Jay shook his head and went back behind the counter to grab his apron again.

He looked surprisingly unfazed. Kyle stared, confused.

“You’re not even a little upset? That girl might’ve gone out with you.”

“That guy looked pretty tempting too.”

“…Right, you’re bisexual.”

“Yeah. I like women more emotionally, but I prefer men physically.”

It was easier to feed, after all.

And men—once they dropped their pants hoping for a blowjob—ended up completely defenseless. Jay could just feed and send them on their way.

“For the record, I’m good with threesomes too.”

“….”

It had been hard at first, but now Jay was good at hypnotizing and erasing memories from two people at once.

Some vampires claimed they could handle up to five at once, but Jay had no interest in that.

Five? His stomach would probably explode.

Kyle looked at Jay like he was absolute trash.

Sure, it was New York—people slept around—but Kyle didn’t expect that kind of openness from someone close to him.

Or rather, he’d never met someone like Jay Taylor who said it all so shamelessly.

“What about tonight? Feeling lonely?”

“Lonely, my ass.”

“Kyle. Are you offering to keep me company?”

Jay turned back, narrowing his eyes again—and Kyle flinched.

“You’ve got those eyes, man. Like you’re bewitching people.”

“So were you bewitched?”

Kyle couldn’t answer.

If he said yes… would he end up going home with Jay tonight?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Jay said—like he was reading Kyle’s thoughts—

“But that’s too bad.”

“I don’t sleep with coworkers.”

Not yet, anyway, Jay thought.

He wasn’t desperate enough for blood at the moment.

Also, Kyle just wasn’t attractive to him.

* * *

When he first had to drink blood, Jay had struggled with the revulsion—yet at the same time, the sweetness that lingered in his mouth made him feel like he might survive, and he held back tears.

Shin Jae-yi wandered the nights of Macau like a ghost, selling blood. At first, he drank too much and killed people. He didn’t know how to erase memories, so at one point, sketches of his face had been circulated. Eventually, he learned how to erase people’s memories—and how to seduce them. It took over a decade for that to come naturally.

Living in Macau as Shin Jae-yi wasn’t bad. But it was an island. Hunting people at night, drinking their blood, and letting them go—it had its limits. It was only a matter of time before he got caught. In fact, posters with his face had gone up.

Macau had ships bound for Nagasaki and Heuksando, but Jay hesitated. Could he really live in a new land where he didn’t even speak the language? He thought maybe it was safer to go into Ming territory, but the region was in the midst of war, and not long after, the Qing dynasty took over, plunging everything into chaos.

Returning to Joseon was no better. If he appeared back home, still young and unchanged, they’d think he was a ghost.

Were they even still alive? Even if they were, they might’ve forgotten his face by now.

After much deliberation, Jay heard rumors of the East India Company and decided to go to India, thinking he might be able to find work there.

He managed to make it to India, but things weren’t any better. Discrimination was everywhere, and he was always excluded. It wasn’t the same as the prejudice faced by people of mixed blood—it was something else entirely.

Worn down and bitter, Jay stole a few jewels and fled east. He crossed Nepal, then Tibet, and finally slipped into Sichuan.

He was glad his appearance didn’t stand out too much, but the holes in his ears gave him away. People called him Joseon-nom. Of course, there was discrimination again.

Then came the queue hairstyle.

How can I shave my head when my body was a gift from my parents? he thought, appalled.

It was ugly. Aesthetic? There was none.

Shaving the front and growing the back—what a pathetic, ragged look. As a Joseon man, it was unbearable.

As time passed, treaties began, then the White Lotus Rebellion broke out.

Jay, feeling he couldn’t live like this anymore, boarded a ship and fled to Europe (구라파, 歐羅巴)¹.

But paradise did not await him.

In Europe, the discrimination was so harsh that even making a living was difficult. To them, an East Asian was barely better than a slave.

“Chinois, Chinois,” they’d mutter. No matter how many times he said he wasn’t Chinese, it was clear Europeans only recognized one kind of East Asian.

Eventually, Jay set out again.

A Creole man he met in a bar told him his homeland wasn’t half-bad. He offered to introduce Jay to a merchant vessel. Jay eagerly agreed.

Two days later, he realized he’d been tricked—the ship wasn’t a merchant vessel, but a privateer.

“Can’t believe privateers still exist…”

Their original destination had been Louisiana, but the captain died in a pirate skirmish, and after drifting from port to port, the course changed to New York.

In the 1800s, New York was a total mess— which made it a great place to disappear.

Back then, New York was a jumble of languages. Some districts spoke Italian, others Dutch.

By the time Chinese immigrants began flooding in, parts of the city even used a version of Chinese—slightly different from the one Jay had learned, but enough to get by.

Living in the American continent, this strange stew of foreigners, turned out to be surprisingly decent—
at least better than Europe.

For someone like Jay, who had to stay out of sight anyway, it wasn’t so different from being a vampire.

What helped most was the sheer number of vampires on the continent. He could meet others like himself more easily here. Maybe they’d all just kept running and running, until they washed up in this corner of the world.

The first fellow vampire Jay met was Elaine.

Back then, her surname was Higgins.

“Did you eat yet? Blood? Or coffee?”

Elaine asked. It was early morning. She and Jonathan had come to Jay’s place.

Jay was nocturnal and weak in the morning. But Elaine and Jonathan were rare morning-type vampires—
the owl-type humans of the vampire world.

“Either’s fine.”

“There’s bagels too.”

“…”

“See? I told you Jay prefers croissants.”

Croissants, bagels, whatever. Jay just wanted some steaming meat stew.

New York winters were so cold that you needed something boiling hot to feel remotely human.

Jay couldn’t understand people who considered coffee, tea, hot chocolate, or lattes a real meal.

Elaine and Jonathan slipped through the open door and plopped themselves down on his couch like it was their own place. Then they started chatting enthusiastically.

“This sunscreen sucks.”

“Got new sunglasses? They look good on you.”

Jay watched them and finally asked,

“Why are you even here this early in the morning?”

“They say John Stalker’s back. It’s been what, 150 years?”

“About that.”

You see, the vampire world had its own rules.

In that world, the vampire who turned you was considered your parent.

That made John Stalker Jay’s ‘father.’

John Stalker only had two ‘children.’ Jay was one of them.

At first, Jay hadn’t known John was his sire.

Apparently, John didn’t think Jay would survive the transformation. He was surprised to find him still alive.

John had never wanted children. He once admitted that if he met Jay again, he’d intended to kill him.

But something changes when a parent and child meet. Even for vampires.

Within a 1.2-mile radius, a vampire parent and child can sense each other’s presence.

When John finally met his own progeny, something stirred inside him.

Jay felt it too—some faint, undeniable bond.

“He still hasn’t given up on hope?”

“I don’t know. Don’t ask me.”

“You don’t keep in touch with him?”

“Nope.”

“You said you sent him a Christmas card once.”

“That was ages ago… That was 1916. During the European war.”

“The World War.”

“What kind of ‘world war’ happens in a speck of a place like Europe?”

Jay grumbled. Westerners always thought they were the center of the world, always with that patronizing attitude.

“So he’s back after almost a century? This time, get his contact info.”

“Sure. I’m sure John’s used to the 21st century by now. Maybe he even has a smartphone. Ask him to follow me on Instagram.”

“Don’t talk shit. Why are you here? Did you come to tell me about John Stalker?”

“No, not exactly,” Elaine replied.

If they’d come all this way at the crack of dawn just for something trivial, Jay would’ve been furious. As it was, he was only moderately irritated. He clutched his head—dizzy from anemia.

Yep, definitely low on blood. If only he’d gone home with that woman last night, he’d be fine. But as things stood, he’d probably need to hunt a man tonight.

“So what is it?” Jay asked, voice heavy with annoyance.

“There’s a rumor a vampire hunter has appeared.”

“A vampire hunter?”

They hadn’t been around as long as vampires, but vampire hunters had existed for quite some time. As the name implied, they hunted vampires.

There were supposedly two kinds, but all Jay knew was that vampire hunters were often said to be born from humans and vampires—hybrids.

Truthfully, Jay didn’t know the details. He didn’t care. He just knew that humans and vampires shared the same chromosomes, so with the right timing and some intimacy, a child could be conceived.

But over 90% of such hybrid pregnancies end in miscarriage, and 95% of those born die in early childhood.

Those lucky enough to survive and grow up were said to become powerful vampire hunters capable of killing vampires.

“So?” Jay prompted.

“Well, just… be careful.”

It was a lie, of course.

Just because someone was a hybrid didn’t mean they were born with the ability to kill vampires.

Some say certain types of humans are born with the power to kill vampires—but that’s just a human fantasy.

They only appear to kill vampires.

There might be something else going on, but Jay didn’t care enough to dig into it. Whatever he heard, he soon forgot.

“Elaine. Jonathan.”

Honestly, even if a vampire hunter did kill vampires, it didn’t matter to Jay.

They wouldn’t come after him.

Jay Taylor had one solid layer of protection: people’s prejudice.

“People don’t believe Asian vampires exist.”

Even among vampires, there was racism.

Back in the day, the idea that a white vampire would ever turn an Asian into one of their own was unthinkable.

Gourmet vampires who savored the “flavor of race” tended not to prefer East Asians, while those with weaker stomachs did. Among East Asians, it was rare to find individuals with highly active apocrine sweat glands—meaning they didn’t emit strong body odor.

That’s a scientifically proven fact.

From Jay’s perspective, East Asians were easier to feed on—especially Koreans.

Sometimes, a vampire would excuse their preference by claiming a weak constitution and calling themselves “yellow fever.” But such remarks had declined in the 21st century. Nowadays, making a comment like that would earn you shame within the vampire community—but who knew what they really thought inside?

After being around them for so long, Jay had come to realize that most of these vampires were from countries that once colonized others. Especially the older ones—many of them still clung to archaic, colonialist ideas.

“A vampire that old, huh.”

“He’s about a hundred years older than you, right?”

“Older than Elaine too, I think? A pureblood, after all.”

Jonathan had been born in the 1700s. Elaine in the 1670s, if he recalled correctly.

In fact, Jay Taylor had only ever met one vampire in New York who was older than him.

She had been turned at a very young age. Though she said she’d become a vampire at 16, her physical development had halted early—by modern standards, she looked no older than 14. She didn’t participate in society much, drifting between foster homes and living out childhood identities for others who needed them.

“Take that pureblood crap for yourself. I don’t need it,” Jay muttered.

“You have no idea how rough it is for us hybrids. You only need to feed once a month, but we need regular blood.”

“I need regular blood too.”

“Still, not as often.”

Jay didn’t respond. He knew it was true—he could go longer between feedings than the others.

“People these days have way too much diabetes. Don’t they manage their blood sugar? Thick blood freaks me out. Our pancreases aren’t all that different, right?”

“Try freezing it. Slows absorption.”

“It’s okay in summer, but then I need to feed more often.”

“You’re supposed to feed more in summer anyway. The water loss through sweat is different.”

“I lose my appetite in summer. I just want plasma. The red cells are too thick. It’s the texture—too gritty, not smooth.”

Most of the components the body needs are in plasma.

But vampires still had to drink whole, red blood with cells—because of oxygen. Plasma helped a bit, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Vampires suffered from chronic blood circulation disorders due to constant blood deficiency.

That meant their bodies overproduced oxygen. It was an involuntary immune mechanism.

As a result, they produced more reactive oxygen species (ROS). These oxidants reacted with lipids to create toxins that weakened the body.

In simple terms: inflammation overflowed inside them.

Even minor stimuli could trigger severe inflammation.

They couldn’t move around during the day because UV light acted as an allergen, causing violent flare-ups.

They couldn’t eat garlic either. Nobody knew why exactly, but garlic seemed to enhance the production of cytotoxic compounds in vampire cells.

In any case, if a vampire didn’t consume blood regularly, hydroxyl radicals would form toxic byproducts, leading to lipid peroxidation and eventually necrosis.

That said, ROS also played a vital role in cytokine signaling—a key part of protein-based immune regulation.

So, vampires had strong immune systems… but suffered from constant inflammation.

Additionally, ROS was important for cell growth and survival. So healing did eventually happen—if they waited long enough.

In short, vampires didn’t die from it, but they lived in ongoing pain.

However, the closer a vampire was to being a pureblood, the less they were affected by all this.

To be precise: purebloods had faster immune response rates than their ROS production rates, which meant faster healing.

They could even walk around in broad daylight without issue. Jay Taylor was like that too. Unlike other vampires, he had no sunlight allergy.

He just felt a little drained in the sun—but that had been the case even when he was human.

The mechanisms behind this weren’t fully understood. Vampires didn’t really study their own biology.

The fact that this much was even known was thanks to the oldest vampire in New York—
she was the one who conducted this research.

She said she got bored of teaching the same classes every day, so she started researching things… until she recently got addicted to YouTube Shorts and stopped.

A Shorts addict born in the year 1400 by Gregorian calendar.

Anyway, that’s why the only way to kill a vampire is to kill them over and over, before their body can heal. Once isn’t enough.

Even so, this method doesn’t work on purebloods.

“These days, people are popping steroids for every little workout, eating all kinds of crap, and then trying to fix it with diet supplements and nutritional pills—it’s chaos. Tasty blood is so hard to come by now. No wonder everyone’s moving to L.A. Hipsters out there manage their nutrition better.”

“People in New York care about appearances too. They take care of themselves.”

“It still tastes like steroids. Every time I drink that kind of blood, I feel like I’ve got the flu.”

“Yeah, steroids hit hard.”

Jay nodded. He could tolerate a lot of things, but steroids were where he drew the line. And too much protein wasn’t great either… sure, there was a certain satisfying bite, but with all that muscle, their bodies resisted more. That’s why he preferred softer types—delicate ones. Even better if they were pretty.

Whenever he had thoughts like this, he realized—yeah, this is why I ruined my life chasing sex and pleasure.
But well, what could he do?

“So, John Stalker and vampire hunters. That’s what this is about?” Jay asked.

Elaine and Jonathan looked at him.

“It’s not like a vampire hunter is gonna kill us, but still. They’re a pain in the ass,” Jonathan said.