The Clan Leader Has Decided: You're the One to Deliver It-Ahem, I Mean, Shoulder This Heavy Responsibility!

Cadman City was as peaceful as ever today. The clouds of war were drawing near, but considering that the damn war had been raging for almost ten years, the people, long accustomed to rationing, said they were still in a stable mood today.

What else could they do if they weren't stable?

Start a revolt?

The vampire lords in the city had been waiting for them to try that. Surprise! Those bastards who literally sucked the marrow from their bones were worried there weren't enough good cannon fodder to send to the front. Naturally, the clever people couldn't give them what they wanted.

"Look, that poor vampire's here to mooch relief again!"

"Shh, keep your voice down. Don't let him hear you. He may be poor, but he's still an official member of the Blood Eagle Clan."

"What's there to be afraid of? I heard from the auntie who works as a kitchen assistant in the City Hall restaurant, who lives next door to my neighbor's second brother-in-law's third cousin, that this kid and his elder are famous 'Blood Eagle cripples.' I heard they're only one step away from being kicked out of the clan. What can he do if he hears us?

"Even the vampires don't like him. Why should we poor people they bully treat him nicely?"

"Exactly! A vampire, of all people, coming to compete with us commoners for relief. Shameless! Even the servants of those down-on-their-luck knights who fled from East Prussia know to cover their faces when they come to collect food. But not him—he just strolls right up. What a disgrace!"

"But you have to admit, the kid's pretty handsome."

"Obviously. Would 'Triss the Gold-Digger' have taken a fancy to him otherwise? I heard he used to be a pretty boy who had a thousand girls swooning. Uh, he's looking this way. Quick!

"Smile!"

As Murphy turned his head in the crowd, the group whispering about him immediately put on wonderful, obsequious smiles in unison, as if their faces had changed.

Just as respectful and hypocritical as they were when they saw any other member of the Blood Eagle Clan.

"Good morning, you boring assholes who gossip about people!"

Murphy returned their smiles with one that was just as flawless, and greeted them in his "native language."

Though it was satisfying to see them bow and scrape in response, constantly bullying these illiterate otherworlders who didn't understand foreign languages was getting a little dull.

Mainly, even the most fun game got old after a month of playing it nonstop.

But his shoulder-length black hair, expressive eyes with starkly contrasting whites and irises, and androgynous features made the young women in the crowd's eyes light up. Unfortunately, his unnaturally pale skin and the faint glimmer of blood in his eyes made them hesitate.

A vampire.

A supernatural creature of legend.

Creatures of darkness, they slept by day and stayed up by night. They were always getting up to nasty things like imprisonment, discipline, and blood-sucking play, which gave them a terrible reputation across the continent. But this was the Transia region of the Bosia Confederacy, territory controlled by vampires, so their reputation was a little better here.

Well, by "a little better," that meant the people wouldn't curse them to their faces or come at them with pitchforks. But, as just demonstrated, they still talked behind their backs.

After all, the direct result of the Blood Eagle Clan's four hundred years of entrenchment in this region was that it had more ghost stories than anywhere else on the continent. The number of people who disappeared around Cadman City alone each year could make up an entire reinforced battalion. Under the circumstances, it would take a miracle for ordinary people and vampires to get along.

Murphy had gotten used to the whispers around him.

With the aloof composure expected of a vampire, he ignored the various good and bad looks directed his way. He stood in line, law-abiding as could be, waited patiently, and even let a woman holding a hungry child go ahead of him.

That little gesture improved the young vampire's image in the eyes of a few scholars in the crowd. Murphy himself, though, had no idea what good their goodwill would do him.

Emmm, never mind if it was useful. Gaining a little goodwill was a good deed either way.

"Two A-type relief rations, please."

When his turn came, he politely asked the soldier distributing food. His manner was impeccable; even while collecting relief supplies, he acted as if he were entering the palace to meet the king.

His whole thing was elegance.

The "king" before him, however, wore a face like a corpse and tossed two rough bundles at Murphy, barely even bothering to look at him.

Even though the nameplate on the soldier's uniform showed that he was a vampire's servant, or "blood thrall" for short, and was theoretically supposed to show every vampire the utmost respect.

Unfortunately, Murphy clearly wasn't on his "respect list."

"Little Murphy, your 'happy days' with Lady Triss are about to end."

Just as Murphy turned to leave, a mocking whisper suddenly sounded in his ear. He glanced back. The vampire seated in the shadows behind the food distribution station, supervising the process, gave him a suitably false smile.

Murphy didn't know the fellow. After all, he'd only "arrived" a month ago.

Maybe there was information about him in the memories lingering in his mind, but Murphy couldn't be bothered to go looking for clues. His new identity was awkward enough as it was.

Murphy was the unexpected offspring of Lady Triss, the Blood Eagle Clan's "famous cripple," conceived after a serious drinking binge. His standing in the family was enough to bring anyone who heard about it to tears.

In the year since the poor sap had become a vampire, he'd barely been allowed into the Blood Eagle Corridor in Cadman City, much less invited to a party by his fellow clan members. He'd had no way to meet other vampires.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that in the month since Murphy had arrived, he'd seen more fat rats at Triss's crumbling little manor than he'd seen vampires.

But though Murphy lived "secluded from the world," he was actually rather famous in the Blood Eagle Clan. Even the old blood-thrall aunties who swept the floor and emptied the chamber pots in the Blood Eagle Corridor knew of him. After all, Murphy was the first member of the clan in Cadman City to remain devoted to Lady Triss, the "King of Cripples."

He'd lived in Triss's rundown courtyard for the entire year since he'd been turned into a vampire, serving her as though she were family.

Such a heartwarming story was quite "legendary" in a vampire clan full of scheming and violence. It had become the subject of one of the "Seven Wonders of Cadman City" and similar local tales.

"What do you mean?"

Murphy kept his mouth still to preserve his composure, but his voice carried back to the vampire in the shadows.

Voice mimicry!

The most basic use of a vampire's innate dark psychic ability.

Successfully used a low-level psychic technique. Dark psychic perception and manipulation proficiency increased. Current level: "Beginner."

The moment he finished using voice mimicry, a notification like this appeared before Murphy's eyes. He was used to it by now, though he couldn't help thinking again about how hard it was to improve the skill.

It'd been a whole month, and it was still at beginner level.

"Nothing in particular. Just wishing you a pleasant 'journey' ahead."

The vampire replied in a peculiar tone.

Apparently deciding that this jab wasn't quite enough, he made a gesture. The blood thrall distributing the food immediately fawned and stuffed another three bundles of relief supplies into Murphy's arms.

What was that supposed to mean?

Murphy blinked, then discreetly bowed to his fellow clan member in farewell. The other vampire returned the gesture perfunctorily, observing the Blood Eagle Clan's family etiquette.

On the way back to the manor, Murphy looked at the five bundles of relief food in his arms and couldn't help thinking:

Does this mean 'eat up before you hit the road'? What a lunatic! I've already kept my head down and let myself get this destitute, and people are still looking for trouble? These damn vampires really are all asking for a beating!

Grumbling to himself, he soon made his way along the shadows at the base of the walls toward his own "manor." Every hundred meters, a notification appeared before his eyes.

Successfully completed a shadow walk. Stealth and infiltration proficiency increased. Current level: "Proficient."

Anyone watching might have thought he was practicing a skill, but in reality, the circumstances left him no choice. Who would rather sneak along walls like a thief when they could just take the main road?

It was nearly nine in the morning, and the sun was already growing vicious. The hardest part of the day for vampires was about to begin. To avoid getting burned by the sunlight, Murphy, who couldn't afford expensive sun protection, had to stick to the shadows.

Ordinary vampires didn't go out in the sunlight. The arrival of night marked the start of their day's fun, but Murphy couldn't afford that kind of indulgence.

For one thing, his family was poor and circumstances forced his hand. If he didn't go out early to collect food, he and his useless mother and elder would both go hungry today.

For another, the otherworldly soul inside this vampire had a stubborn sleep schedule.

When he'd first "arrived," he'd tried staying up all night and sleeping during the day out of curiosity. The result was like a thirty-year-old man spending one night gaming at an internet café and needing three days to recover.

He could stay up late, but only a little.

"Sigh."

It was still early morning, but this was Murphy's seventeenth sigh of the day.

He carried the food and pushed open the manor's iron gate. He pushed too hard, and the rusty, long-neglected gate crashed down beside the dust-covered "garden," which was overgrown with ivy and weeds. The noise sent three fat rats scurrying away.

Successfully caused environmental damage. Melee and physical attack proficiency increased. Current level: "Beginner."

Another familiar notification appeared, leaving Murphy feeling exhausted all over again.

A good half of his beginner-level melee skill had come from this poor iron gate over the past month. So, wasn't it time to say thank you to Uncle Gate?

Murphy looked at the "manor" he'd lived in for a month. The mottled buildings still hinted at its former splendor. It was a classic mansion, "peacefully tucked away in the bustling city," with a carefully designed garden stretching across its nearly thousand-square-meter grounds.

It even had a hidden wine cellar and a towering observatory. The main house was beautifully designed and decorated with statues of some unknown deity.

Unfortunately, that had been the case at least a hundred years ago.

Now the rundown manor was a condemned wreck, a place even the homeless wouldn't bother visiting. It was hard to imagine that it was the home of a former vampire elder who claimed to have lived for five hundred years.

"Ravnos Murphy Lasombra!"

A cold voice suddenly called from behind him.

Murphy had just finished propping the gate back in place, a task he'd grown quite used to, when a shadow gathered in the shadow cast by the wall. As the sound of bat wings filled the air, a slender figure appeared before him.

It was clearly an advanced psychic technique. But more importantly, the person before him—

A vampire dressed in a luxurious crimson robe and holding a short cane. The exquisite badge on his chest identified him as one of the Blood Eagle Guards, who answered directly to the clan leader.

They rarely appeared. Every time they did, they carried the will of the Blood Eagle clan leader, Lord Salokdar Lasombra.

A sense of foreboding immediately rose in Murphy's heart.

Still, he showed his fellow clan member the utmost respect with impeccable composure. The other vampire nodded coolly in response, then took a sealed velvet pouch from inside his robe and handed it to Murphy.

He said in a matter-of-fact tone:

"The fighting at the front is urgent. The Plantagenet Kingdom's Pioneer Legion has drawn close to the border of the Transia region. War is about to reach Cadman City, and every member of the Blood Eagle Clan must contribute to the defense of our territory.

"This is your next assignment.

"Take this confidential order from the clan leader to the Midnight Hunters' camp, thirty miles east of Morland Village. You have three days to complete it!"

Murphy's heart skipped a beat. He took the pouch and said softly:

"But I heard that the Plantagenet Kingdom's Witch Hunters have infiltrated that area."

"That's right."

The Blood Eagle Guard nodded and explained:

"The hounds under the Tower of Rings are carrying out a tactical blockade. That means you'll have to risk crossing their hunting cordon at midnight.

"But for a noble member of the Blood Eagle Clan, it's not a difficult job."

Hey, this 'not difficult' conclusion is based on a normal vampire, right? Take a good look at me with your two eyes! Other than being especially handsome, what about me could possibly be called 'normal'?

Murphy roared inwardly.

But on the surface, he took a deep breath, keeping his expression from falling apart, and said:

"I need armor and weapons. And, if possible, I'll need some help."

"Hm?"

The clan leader's personal guard blinked and looked Murphy up and down, taking in his overly "simple" appearance. His tone turned strange.

"You've been a vampire for some time, but you still don't have any blood thralls of your own? You even need armor and weapons. Wait, is this Triss's manor? Your elder is that cripple—uh, former elder Triss?

"Well, that explains it.

"I have heard a few rumors about you in the Blood Eagle Corridor. I thought they were ridiculous jokes. After all, even a vampire couldn't possibly have it this bad."

Having said that, the vampire reached out and patted Murphy on the shoulder with some sympathy. His tone was peculiar as he said:

"Looks like you've had a hard time, kid."

"Yeah. This is nothing like the vampire life I imagined."

Murphy finally couldn't hold it in anymore.

He could put up with other people's mockery and malice. But faced with the other vampire's sympathetic gaze, he let out a long sigh, his face full of sorrow.

Seeing this, the clan leader's personal guard didn't know what else to say. He sighed and said:

"Come dusk, when you set out today, enough blood thralls will bring you what you need. And if you don't come back, other unfortunate—uh, I mean, other reliable people will take care of Elder Triss in your place.

"So go bravely."

With that, he turned into a swarm of bats and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Murphy standing where he was, the mission pouch in his hand.

Does this mean they've already decided I'm as good as dead? Hey, when you send someone off to die, can't you spend a few seconds pretending with your expressions and words?

Tch. Good thing I've got a cheat!

He grumbled, then habitually glanced at the progress bar taking up most of the strange, semi-transparent interface before his eyes:

"True Otherworld" beta administrator system installation package extraction progress: 99.87%. Please wait patiently.

"It's been stuck for a whole month. It'll finish extracting this afternoon."

Murphy bit his lip. For once, his face, so accustomed to holding an elegant expression that it had become muscle memory, broke into a genuine smile.

Humming a tune, he bent down and picked up the relief food beside him. As he carried it into the courtyard, he thought:

"Once my world-changing golden finger arrives, I'll get rid of all you bastards. I've written down the names of everyone who's mouthed off to me. I'm not exactly a magnanimous person.

"Heh, just wait. The good days are still ahead."

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