My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything

Travers had been having the weirdest month of his life.

It all started with the sudden death of Hyde, a prominent figure in Faewall.

His death had made headlines across every major news outlet in the city, speculation running rampant.

But the very next day, it was as if Hyde had never existed.

The story vanished, completely scrubbed from the public consciousness.

No one talked about it, the media didn't mention it again, and the strange disappearance of the narrative had sent his conspiracy senses tingling.

Being the dedicated reporter that he was, he'd found the entire situation odd but hadn't been able to investigate immediately.

He was just one man, after all.

He could hail himself as a reporter with a knack for digging where others feared to tread but money was a greater threat than whatever lurked in the dark.

But then the letters started arriving.

The first one had been innocuous enough.

A tip from an insider about police influence from higher-ups, about how the investigation into Hyde's death was being silenced from the top.

It was exactly the kind of story Travers lived for, the kind that could boost his career if he played it right.

But the second letter? That had been something else entirely. It talked about Hyde's missing body. It had apparently been stolen.

That was when his excitement had truly kicked in. Solid leads like this didn't come around often.

Using everything he'd been given, he'd written an article that should've blown the lid off the whole case, and for about ten minutes, it had.

The article went viral, spreading like wildfire. But just as quickly as it had taken off, it vanished, deleted from every platform, leaving no trace behind.

Then something else had happened. Hadn't it?

He frowned.

Maybe a visit? But he hadn't had any visitors. Or a confrontation? He couldn't tell.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fully remember. His memories of those moments were hazy, fractured.

One second, he had been ecstatic about the story. The next, he had lost all interest, as if the whole thing had been nothing but a dead-end lead.

The details were blurry, like a dream slipping away upon waking.

But that wasn't an unusual occurrence. It could just be an influence of the alcohol he'd had that night.

There was nothing suspicious at all about the whole thing.

He'd gone about his daily life and it wasn't until later, when a nagging hunch, a deeply embedded instinct that he couldn't explain, told him to investigate a theater.

He'd been the first reporter to arrive at the scene, learning about the suspicious death that had occurred inside.

He'd been compiling his tips for the article when… someone? Approached him.

They had slipped him a stack of documents and while he hadn't known exactly what the papers contained, he knew one thing for certain.

He needed to deliver them to the office of an elder or some high-ranking authority. He didn't know who but he didn't care.

His hunch had led him all the way to Decapolis, the largest and most powerful city in the Republic.

Travers wasn't entirely sure why he'd chosen this city or this council, but something deep inside of him had urged him on, like an invisible hand guiding him to the Office of Public Affairs.

He stood now in front of the building, clutching the stack of documents tightly.

This is what he lived for. Exposing the truth that others wanted hidden.

Travers took a deep breath and walked inside.

He approached the desk, where a receptionist looked up at him with a polite smile.

"Good evening." Travers said, trying his best not to look around. He was almost there. His goal was in reach. "I need to see the council."

The receptionist arched an eyebrow, pausing for a moment. "The public council or the private council?"

Travers hesitated for only a second. His hunch told him which one to choose. "The private council." He said. "The one with the seven."

The receptionist's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of understanding in their eyes.

They pressed a button on their desk, and within moments, a man in a tailored black suit appeared. Without a word, the man gestured for Travers to follow him.

They walked down a series of long hallways, their footsteps echoing against the stone floors.

Finally, they reached a large door at the end of a narrow corridor. The man in the suit opened the door and motioned for Travers to enter.

Inside the room, a single figure waited.

The man seated at the large desk was striking.

A black haired figure with a… blurry face. Travers frowned, trying to catch the details of the man's face but anytime he looked at it, he forgot it in the next second. But that wasn't what he was here for.

The man wore a perfectly tailored white suit, the brightness of it contrasting with his black gloves and shoes.

He tilted his head, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Sit." He commanded.

Travers sat, the documents still clutched in his hands.

He could feel the intensity of the man's gaze, but something in his gut told him to remain calm. After all, his hunch had led him here, and it had never steered him wrong before.

"What brings you to the private council?" The man asked, leaning forward slightly.

Travers swallowed and handed the stack of documents across the desk. "I was told the council needed to see these."

The man took the documents without hesitation, flipping them open and scanning the pages in silence.

Travers watched, his heart pounding, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

After what felt like an eternity, the man placed the documents on the desk in front of him and looked up at Travers with a small smile.

"Interesting." He said softly. "I didn't realize that such… intriguing events were happening in Faewall."

Travers nodded, unsure of what else to say. His mind felt strangely foggy, his memory of how he had come to possess the documents slipping further away with each passing second.

The man in the white suit stood and walked around the desk, his gloved hands clasped behind his back.

"Hmmn." He studied Travers for a moment before speaking again. "I guess you'll have to be our guest for a while."

Travers blinked. "Guest?"

The man nodded. "Yes. For your own safety, of course. The world is… complicated right now. And we wouldn't want anything unfortunate to happen to you, would we?"

Travers nodded slowly, the man's words settling over him like a command.

Strangely, the idea didn't bother him. His hunch had told him to come here. It had led him every step of the way, and now it was telling him to obey.

"Of course." Travers said, his voice calm. "I'll stay."

The man smiled, satisfied, and gestured toward the door. "Good. Someone will show you to your quarters. You'll be safe here."

Travers stood, his mind oddly serene.

He couldn't remember exactly what had driven him to come to Decapolis, couldn't fully grasp the significance of the documents he had delivered.

But that didn't matter.

For now, he will stay. His hunch told him it was the right thing to do.