One Piece: Blood Clan

The owner of the afternoon tea shop was a kindly middle‐aged man, his gentle demeanor radiating warmth.

"Young Master Burs! It's been ages since we had the honor of your company. How long has it been since you last enjoyed our afternoon tea?" he greeted enthusiastically.

Burs offered a quiet reply, "I'm not sure, sir."

The man burst into hearty laughter. "Hahaha! Today is indeed special—a rare guest like you deserves the finest treats we have. Allow me to treat you to our best pastry!"

"Thank you, truly," Burs replied politely.

"Not at all—though do remember, tea isn't free," the owner added with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well then, I'll have a cup of Volcano Bobo Black Tea." Burs ordered.

"Right away. Please wait a moment," the owner responded.

Before long, a steaming cup of rich, dark tea and a delicate pastry were set before Burs. He took a measured sip, noting that his taste for tea was curiously similar to that of ordinary humans.

Yet he couldn't ignore that when he drank blood, a strange, intoxicating pleasure surged within him—so the tea, with its unique flavor, seemed to hold its own charm.

Across the shop, hidden in a shadowed corner, the leader of a pair of kidnappers glowered at Burs with thinly veiled contempt.

"Pathetic rich kid," he muttered bitterly. "Spending an entire afternoon sipping tea like a dawdler. "A waste of money and nothing better to do!"

Despite his heightened Observation Haki, Burs couldn't quite decipher the muttered curses. As dusk fell, he carefully repackaged two portions of the pastry and tea—intended as a treat for Sister Grey and Miya at home.

"Thank you for coming! We hope to see you again soon," called the tea shop owner as Burs departed. With his packaged treats in hand, he began his journey toward the wild. After all, while the household delicacies were prepared, it was time for Burs to collect his own "dessert."

"Look, Boss—he's coming out," one of the kidnappers hissed in a low voice.

"I see him. Let's move," another replied promptly.

Soon the pair trailed Burs into the darkness of the open fields. The moon's feeble light barely penetrated the shroud of night, casting long, distorted shadows.

In that half-lit wilderness, as Burs strode ahead—a slender figure glowing with a faint, blood-red aura—the kidnappers' bravado began to waver. Unease flickered in their eyes as they beheld the young noble whose presence defied their expectations.

"You—what do you want with me?" Burs demanded, his voice calm yet laced with authority.

Their covert tailing had become overt; these men were no longer hiding.

One of them, his voice quavering and his posture shrinking, muttered, "Boss, something's off…"

His words were quickly drowned out by the leader's scornful retort.

"What's there to fear? He's nothing but a child—a noble brat isn't any different from a commoner's kid! Up!" The leader bellowed as he charged.

In an instant, the kidnappers lunged forward. With a swift, uncanny twist, Burs dodged the leader's grasp. It was his first real fight in this strange world—and thanks to his Observation Haki, every move of his attackers was anticipated.

The thrill of controlling the battle surged through him, an intoxicating sense of predatory dominance.

"How… How can this be? This child… he's a monster!" the leader sputtered in disbelief, taking two staggering steps backward.

Hearing the word "monster" stung Burs's pride. His eyes darkened, and with no further hesitation he bared his small but deadly fangs. As his assailants attempted to flee, it was far too late.

In one fluid motion, Burs sank his fangs deep into the leader's throat, severing it with brutal precision. The second attacker barely had time to react before Burs's blade-like instincts pierced his heart.

Standing over the fallen bodies, Burs felt an odd sense of detachment. Perhaps it was the coldness inherent to his vampiric nature—he felt no pang of remorse. Instead, he seized the opportunity while the bodies were still warm.

Retrieving his Small Blood Bag—a device that looked no different from an ordinary water bottle—Burs pressed its spout against the corpse. In a surreal transformation, the bag sprouted two sharp, fang-like protrusions that sank into the flesh. Within moments, the warm blood was siphoned away, leaving the body to shrivel into a lifeless mummy. He repeated the process on the second body without mercy.

A normal adult's blood comprises roughly 7–8% of their body weight; these two men contributed a total of 8 kilograms of fresh blood—eight units by his measure. Feeling the satisfying weight of his newly filled Blood Bag, Burs couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. The rush of feeding had left him eager to taste human blood—but almost immediately, a flash of self-reproach struck him.

"I'm becoming… too depraved," he chastised himself silently. "I mustn't let this continue!"

Later that evening, as he returned home, Miya greeted him with concern. "Young Master Burs! You're back! The coffin shop just delivered a massive coffin. They say you ordered it—did you really?"

"Yes," Burs replied tersely. "It will be taken to my room shortly. Don't worry about it."

"But you—" Miya began hesitantly.

"Enough, Miya. I've also brought Sister Grey a treat. Please enjoy it," he interjected firmly.

"Wow, thank you, Young Master Burs!" Miya exclaimed, accepting the delicacies with bright-eyed excitement. As she watched him depart, she remembered the coffin—but when she turned to mention it, Burs had already vanished.

"Damn it—he's slipped away!" Miya grumbled, clenching her fists. "I'll be sure to tell Sister Grey!"

A few minutes later, atop the mansion's upper floor, Miya and Sister Grey sat together, enjoying the red tea and pastry Burs had brought. Their eyes followed him as he hefted the enormous coffin across the yard. Miya's face was a mix of shock and awe; she never imagined that such a small child could possess such immense strength. Meanwhile, Sister Grey maintained a composed demeanor—as if she had long anticipated this development.

"Miya, have you noticed how strange our Young Master has become? Sleeping all day, training by night, and now even buying a coffin… What on earth is going on with him?" Miya whispered, unable to hide her concern.

Gently rubbing Miya's head, Sister Grey explained, "Your master's behavior isn't random. As your father once told me, it's a hereditary condition in the Ikano family. When they reach a certain age, they can no longer tolerate sunlight. They grow weak by day but are vibrant at night. You recall how our master used to rarely leave the house—this is why."

Miya's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh… that must be it."

Oblivious to the hushed conversation about him, Burs returned to his room with the massive coffin in tow. Once inside, he set about preparing it as his new resting place. After arranging fresh bedding within, he lay down and felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

Truly, he thought, a vampire's sleep is only complete when it is cradled by a coffin. The luxurious bed he'd had before, despite its softness, never felt quite right.

Now, enclosed in his wooden coffin, he finally felt at home. Perhaps someday he might even invest in superior wood—maybe some of that rare "Adam Wood" from the treasure trees—to fashion the perfect coffin.

With a newfound goal set and night still young, Burs emerged once more into the darkness.

There was no time to sleep—the night was just beginning, and the rising sun was a distant worry.