Vampire

"Of all the places to transmigrate to, it had to be the Marvel World—and I had to become a Vampire. Could I be any unluckier?"

In a dim room with the windows tightly covered, Bert Wang stared at the poster of Tony Stark's punchable face on the wall, his head aching.

He liked Marvel movies well enough, but he had no desire whatsoever to transmigrate into this perilous world, where surviving was like living through the apocalypse. Worse still, he was at the very bottom of the hierarchy: a Vampire! Vampires feared Sunlight, garlic, and silver. Even becoming an ordinary person would have been a hundred times better. At least ordinary people could enjoy the sun, beautiful women, and bikinis on the beach!

As for immortality, what was the point of living forever like a rat? I have to find a way to change all this. I refuse to spend my whole life as a rat.

Bert's gaze sharpened as he stared at the poster and thought carefully. Tony Stark looks exactly like he did in the movies, so this should be a Marvel World based mainly on the films. Uh, the only Marvel movie with Vampires was Blade, but wasn't Blade set pretty early? It's 2008 now!

After Marvel movies became hugely popular, Bert had rewatched the Blade trilogy, so he vaguely remembered it. If he recalled correctly, Yu Zhoudan had even appeared in the second film.

Just then, a voice came from the doorway. "Bert, you've been staring at Tony Stark's poster this whole time. Don't tell me you like men?"

Bert turned and saw a pale red-haired woman in a T-shirt and shorts standing in the doorway, looking at him mockingly.

Beside the red-haired woman stood a burly man nearly six and a half feet tall. When he saw Bert looking over, the man shot him a vicious glare. Bert pretended to be timid and looked away.

The man and woman were also Vampires. The woman was named Jenny, and she was the one who had bitten Bert—before he transmigrated. In simple terms, Bert had wanted Jenny's body, while Jenny had wanted Bert's blood and money.

As for the man, his name was John. He was a thug who had beaten Bert many times before. Bert had never dared to resist him.

Bert asked with slight displeasure, "Why are you two here again?"

"What, you have a problem with us coming over?"

John snapped impatiently, "Don't forget, we're the ones who turned you into a noble member of the Blood Clan!"

"That's right. Do you know how many people from the Blood-thirsty Clan would kill for the chance to become part of the Blood Clan?"

Jenny added that as well. Vampires could not create descendants merely by biting someone; they had to feed them their own blood.

Who the hell wants to become a Vampire? Uh, do Vampires count as ghosts?

Bert grumbled inwardly, then sighed. "The Blood Clan is completely different from what I imagined. I thought Vampires would be like they were in the movies—elegant and noble, like aristocrats!"

After saying that, Bert glanced at John and Jenny with a disappointed expression. The two immediately became furious. Was he saying they were neither noble nor elegant? Though it was true, he did not have to say it out loud! "How can we be noble or elegant without money? We're not those Purebloods!"

Jenny walked in and snorted. "Those Pureblood Vampires live even better than Vampires in the movies. They have endless wealth and unlimited blood to drink. They even keep countless handsome men and beautiful women as Blood Slaves. Unlike us, who can only buy expensive blood bags."

"If those cowardly Purebloods hadn't signed a treaty with humans and forbidden us from drinking human blood whenever we wanted, would we be living like this?"

John complained unhappily, "We work our asses off every day just to afford blood bags. Life is worse than when we were human. Oh, and I heard the money for blood bags gets divided between the Purebloods and the humans."

"Purebloods and Half-bloods?"

Bert's eyes flickered as he asked, "If there's a treaty, why did you dare turn me into a Vampire?"

John walked in, grabbed Bert by the collar, and lifted him off the ground. With a vicious expression, he said, "What did you say, kid? Say that again. I didn't hear you!"

"I didn't say anything! I didn't say anything!"

Bert turned his head aside and shouted repeatedly in false fear. In truth, he could not stand John's breath—it stank! John snorted, threw Bert to the floor, and said impatiently, "Enough crap. Give me twenty thousand dollars!"

"Twenty thousand dollars? You spent it that fast?"

Bert climbed to his feet, looking reluctant. Before this body's parents died in a car accident, they had left him quite a bit of money. He had always worried that criminals might target him. In the end, criminals had not come for him—Vampires had! Jenny giggled. "It's fine. Once you run out of money, we'll take you to find another rich person. Then we'll use your blood to create more descendants!"

So this is a sustainable business model?

Bert complained inwardly. He sighed, picked up a checkbook from nearby, and began writing a check. In America, large sums were generally paid with credit cards or checks. Twenty thousand dollars was no small amount.

John nodded in satisfaction. "Don't be so stingy. Once Boss Deacon leads us in overthrowing the Purebloods, all humans will become our food. Then we'll truly become aristocrats!"

"That's right! Blood Aristocrats! Endless blood to drink, endless money to spend, and all humans as our slaves!"

Jenny shouted fervently. In the hearts of Half-blood Vampires, Deacon Frost was their savior!

"Deacon Frost?"

Bert's heart stirred. If he remembered correctly, Deacon Frost was the main villain in the Blade movie. In the film, he successfully led the Half-bloods to overthrow the Purebloods and used the blood of the Daywalker Blade and the Twelve Pureblood Elders to turn himself into the Blood God.

The Blood God was incredibly powerful. He did not fear Sunlight, garlic, or silver. Even if he were cut in half, he could regenerate. But it seemed to lower one's intelligence—the big villain stupidly used his body to block Blade's poisoned needle, then exploded on the spot.

"So Blade's storyline hasn't begun yet? That's good news. The Blood God, immense power, and endless wealth and influence!"

A fiery gleam flashed through Bert's eyes. Then he handed the check to John and asked about Deacon Frost. "Boss Deacon holds a Blood Feast every so often. I'll take you to see it sometime. We Half-blood Vampires have a hard time surviving on our own. We have to stick together!"

John took the check and patted Bert on the shoulder with a broad grin. Bert snorted inwardly. Stick together? More like exploitation. The Purebloods exploit the Half-bloods, and you exploit me!

Having gotten the money, John and Jenny happily left. They would spend it all in no time, then come back for Bert again, continuing until every last cent of his money was gone. This was the path to riches they had devised!

"I still need you two to help me integrate into Vampire society, so I'll spare your lives for now!"

Bert stood by the window, watching the two leave with a cold smile. They were just two Vampires. If he wanted to kill them, it would not be difficult. All he had to do was shine an Ultraviolet Lamp on them!

"This feels so pathetic. Aren't Vampires supposed to be stronger than this?"

Bert could not help complaining. After thinking for a moment, he grabbed some clothes and headed out to find the owner of a gun shop in Chinatown. To carry out his earlier plan, he first had to strengthen himself! The gun shop owner was a somewhat vicious-looking Scarface. After hearing Bert's request, he asked in surprise, "You want to hire an instructor to train your Combat Training skills? Are you in trouble? If so, I suggest calling the police or paying to make the problem go away!"

Bert shook his head. "No. I just suddenly want to try something exciting."

The Scarface owner looked Bert over and said, "Then you can go to a proper training company. I have a shooting range here, but no instructors. It's just for people to test-fire guns!"

"That would take too long. I don't have that much time. You have connections, so you should know some private instructors—uh, the kind who've been on the battlefield!"

Bert said, "I can pay you a referral fee, or buy more things from you."

Hearing that there was money to be made, the Scarface owner smiled. "In this country, money can get you anything. But private instructors don't come cheap!"

"A good instructor is worth a good price!"

Bert smiled. He had heard long ago that this owner was a retired veteran. Sure enough, the man had connections.

As for money, if he did not solve the Vampire problem, no amount of money would matter. Besides, it was not his money anyway. Spending it did not hurt at all—like a son selling off his father's land without a second thought!

"Fine."

The Scarface owner did not waste words. He closed the gun shop, took a notebook from a drawer, and placed it on the table. "These are instructors I can contact. But you'll have to negotiate the exact terms yourselves. I'll only make the introduction!"

"I'll take a look first."

Bert picked up the notebook and flipped through it. The information inside was detailed, including names and records, though there were no photos.

"Hmm?"

After turning a few pages, Bert spotted a name and froze. The Scarface owner glanced at it and introduced, "This one is the real deal. He's earned both the Navy Cross and the Medal of Honor. He's a military instructor now. Of course, he also charges the most!"

"He really is the real deal!"

Bert nodded, silently grumbling, How could he not be? This is Frank Castle, the Punisher! Wait, so Punisher used to secretly take private gigs despite those thick brows and big eyes?

The Punisher was an antihero who fought violence with violence. Any target he set his sights on was usually wiped out completely. To exaggerate a little, not even the cockroaches in their gang would survive.

Of course, Frank's family was not dead yet. He was still a retired instructor and had not gone dark. "Him, then. I want to talk to him!"

Bert closed the notebook. The Scarface owner chuckled. "I hope you have enough identification to buy the guns you need!"

Buying guns in America was easy enough, but a firearms permit was needed. Rifles were much easier to purchase than handguns, and as for the required documents, Bert did not have a single one!

Bert smiled. "I can buy some collectibles. The expensive kind!"

The next night, Bert met Frank Castle at a café. Frank was tall and powerfully built, carrying a fierce, iron-blooded aura. Perhaps because he had become a Vampire, Bert could smell mountains of corpses and seas of blood on Frank. There was no doubt about it—this was a ruthless man, perhaps even a monster among monsters.

Frank looked at pale-faced Bert and frowned slightly. To be honest, he did not like the other man much. He was too skinny, and his presence was far too cold and gloomy, making people uncomfortable! Still, thinking of the comrade who needed money and help, Frank sat down to seriously discuss this private job. After some polite small talk, Bert smiled. "Mr. Castle, I recognize your abilities, but I have a few requirements."

Once they got down to business, Frank relaxed. He hated pleasantries most of all. "Let's hear them!"

"First, training can only be at night. I'm not available during the day!"

"No problem. I'm not available during the day either."

"Second, I need to gain real combat ability in the shortest possible time—both fighting and firearms. Uh, I'll need you to arrange the shooting range, though I'll pay for it."

Frank glanced at Bert and said with a hint of cruelty, "It can be done, but the training will be brutal. You might even end up in the hospital!"

"My recovery is pretty good. It won't be a problem!"

Bert smiled. "Mr. Castle, train me however you want, as long as you believe it'll make me stronger."

Frank could not help looking at Bert again. Did this kid have some kind of unusual hobby?

"As for the third requirement, it's a little excessive!"

Bert said somewhat awkwardly. Frank frowned, but before he could think much about it, Bert continued, "During training, I hope you can protect me while I engage in real combat."

Frank looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Bert said, "I mean I'll go out on the streets and find violent people to fight for real, while you protect me!"

"That?"

Frank did not actually have a problem with that request. Back in the Middle East, he often had new recruits do the same thing. Pretending to hesitate, he said, "That'll cost extra!"

Bert smiled. "No problem, Instructor Caster. I'll be counting on you from now on!"

"Not so fast. I have one condition too!"

Frank waved a hand. "You pay upfront. And whether or not you quit the training, there are no refunds."

"Fine!"

Bert nodded in agreement. If it were someone else, they might deliberately torture him until he quit, but the proud Punisher surely would not do that—just twenty-four hours later, he realized how naïve he had been! "Damn it, this guy is definitely torturing me on purpose so he can take the money and run!"

Bert covered his cheek, feeling as if his teeth were about to be knocked out.

"Didn't you say you wanted real combat ability as quickly as possible? Then we'll start Combat Training immediately. And if you want to fight, the most important thing is learning how to take a hit, endure pain, and remain calm in battle."

Wearing boxing gloves, Frank shouted as he threw punch after punch. He carried the fierce momentum of a hunting tiger, terrifying to behold! Bert backed away in fright while blocking with his arms, but after only a few punches, his arms hurt so badly he could no longer raise them. Then, naturally, he took another punch to the face. The world spun as he crashed heavily to the ground with a bang! "I'm not scamming you. If you give up, I'll give you a month of regular training. But if you want to improve quickly, you have to endure this kind of pain—or rather, torture."

Frank said, "In fact, this is still easier than how I train recruits. At the very least, I haven't started yelling at you yet."

"Who are you looking down on? Keep going!"

Bert bared his teeth and said with an ugly smile. He did not want to spend his entire life as a Vampire hiding in the shadows, unable to face the sun. Since he had come to this Marvel World, whether he could survive or not, he wanted to live brilliantly!

Only then would this trip have been worthwhile! To live as splendidly as summer flowers, and die as peacefully as autumn leaves! A trace of appreciation flashed through Frank's eyes as he shouted, "Then get up! Don't lie there like a woman!"

Bert endured the pain and struggled to his feet. Then he said solemnly, "Instructor, that sounds suspiciously like gender discrimination!"

"You still have time to talk nonsense? Looks like the training isn't intense enough!"

Frank snorted and increased the intensity. Bert nearly ended up in the hospital—Frank wanted to send him there, but Bert refused. After simply treating his wounds, he went home and drank blood.

That was right, blood. Being a Vampire was not entirely bad. His recovery was far stronger than that of an ordinary person!

The only problem was that blood tasted awful. Bert was considering whether it would have the same effect if he made it into different dishes, such as blood sausage, blood porridge, or blood curd!

"Did I train him too hard? His physique is much worse than those recruits."

Frank hesitated a little. Once he started training, he tended to get carried away. In the past, he had trained recruits into the hospital before—well, quite a few times.

"Tomorrow—no, the day after tomorrow, I'll reduce the workload a bit. As for tomorrow, he probably won't come!"

Frank thought to himself. Yet contrary to his expectations, Bert came running over the next evening looking just as energetic as the day before. Eagerly, he asked, "What are we training today?"

Frank was speechless. He confirmed two things. First, this guy's recovery was truly excellent, so good it did not seem human. Second, this guy really did have unusual hobbies!

Frank roared, "Rookie, what are you standing around for? Get moving! Twenty laps today!"

"Yes, Instructor!"

Bert answered loudly. And so, over the next month or so, he trained with Frank at night and learned about this unfamiliar world online during the day.

This world had quite a few differences from the movies. For example, the Osborn Corporation existed here, and it was no small company.

"The Osborn Corporation is practically a villain breeding ground, but that doesn't matter. I'm no saint myself. Fortunately, there are no mutants in this world, or things would be troublesome."

Bert thought to himself. If the mutant movies had been included too, this world would really have become lively.

That night, Jenny came by again. Looking at Bert in the doorway, she was astonished. "How are you completely different? It's like you've become another person!"

More than a month ago, Bert had been skinny, cowardly, and gloomy. Now, he was clearly much sturdier, and even the coldness around him had faded considerably.

"I got into fights and swelled up from being beaten!"

Bert replied casually, "Why are you here again? Did you already spend the twenty thousand dollars?"

Jenny said unhappily, "Do you think I'm the kind of woman who only comes to you for money?"

Bert nodded with complete seriousness. "Yes!"

"You really do know me!"

Jenny burst into laughter. "Don't worry, I'm not asking for money for nothing this time. I'm taking you to the Blood Feast Boss Deacon is holding. There'll be plenty of blood, and living humans for us to enjoy too. Heh, maybe some beautiful woman will even take a liking to you. Blood Feasts have always been chaotic!"

"A Blood Feast?"

Bert's eyes flickered. "Didn't you say we have an agreement with humans and can't hunt living people?"

"Boss Deacon doesn't care about agreements. Of course, he won't go too far. Usually, he sends beautiful women to seduce men who lose their heads at the sight of women, just like you!"

Jenny giggled. "Of course, they won't be lucky enough to become Vampires. They'll only become food. Bert, now you know how good I am to you, right?"

"I'd feel even better if you didn't want money!"

Bert snorted. "When do we leave?"

Jenny said, "Right now. John is waiting downstairs. Once you're ready, we'll go!"

"Okay!"

Bert went back inside and gathered what he needed: a Glock 17, illegally purchased in Hell's Kitchen; specially made silver-plated throwing knives; homemade Small Smoke Bombs; and more. The brutal training of the past month had improved him greatly. Although he was still no expert, he was no longer a weakling incapable of even trussing a chicken!

Soon, Bert got into John's car and set off. As John drove, he bragged to Bert, "This time, we might get to see Quinn, Boss Deacon's right-hand man. If it weren't for me, a Vampire like you would never get the chance to meet him!"

"Quinn?"

Bert asked, "John, how strong are Quinn and Boss Deacon? Are they like us, basically no different from ordinary people?"

"Of course not. They're both Elite-level Vampires!"

"Elite-level?"

"That's right, Elite-level. They're incredibly fast. Unless their hearts or heads are pierced by silver weapons, they won't die easily."

John said enviously, "Pureblood Vampires gain Elite-level strength once they reach adulthood. As for Half-bloods like us, only exceptional people like Boss Deacon and Quinn can become Elite-level!"

Bert asked, "How does one become an Elite-level Vampire?"

"You think you can become Elite-level?"

John looked at him with contempt. Jenny also burst out laughing, as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world.

Bert said, "Just asking!"

"There are only two ways to become Elite-level. One is to consume a huge amount of living human blood. Living humans, not blood bags, and it has to be a huge amount."

John said, "The other is to consume the blood of a higher-ranking Vampire, such as a Pureblood Vampire. Of course, no one dares do that. Offending a Pureblood is a capital crime."

"They shout about overthrowing the Purebloods every day, yet they're this cowardly?"

Bert sneered inwardly. Soon, they arrived outside an Ice Chamber in Brooklyn.

Pointing at a symbol on the Ice Chamber wall made of three bars and several patterns, John said, "That's Boss Deacon's mark. Among our Blood Clan, usually only Pureblood Vampires have marks, but Boss Deacon is an exception!"

Jenny said worshipfully, "Boss Deacon is obviously an exception. Even some Purebloods serve him!"

Bert thought to himself, Deacon Frost's reputation among the Half-bloods is really high. But why does he have so much blood to hold Blood Feasts?

Then the three got out and walked toward the Ice Chamber. Since Bert was unfamiliar, he had to reveal his fangs before he was allowed in with them. The bar hosting the Blood Feast was hidden behind the Ice Chamber, where ordinary people would never find it.

Looking at the pig carcasses inside the Ice Chamber, Bert frowned slightly. The opening scene of Blade seemed to take place in an Ice Chamber, didn't it? Could it really be such a coincidence?