Ah, time!
In the chaotic first battle, Murphy realized he'd overlooked an important factor.
His little players didn't spend all day doing nothing but waiting for him to summon them to another world to do great things. They had jobs in their own world, too. They had to earn money, support their families, buy formula for their kids, cosmetics for their wives, show filial respect to their parents, and look after their younger siblings.
Damn it!
He'd definitely have to account for this important factor next time!
But now wasn't the time to review what he'd missed. After encouraging his "otherworldly warriors" in the manner of an NPC, Murphy turned and patted Maxim on the shoulder.
Though he'd warned himself to be cautious and steady—Triss was still waiting for him in Cadman City, and without him, that King of Cripples would surely starve on the streets—his life had to come first, no matter what!
But while the players were still growing, he had to step in himself if anything went wrong!
Fortunately, it was night.
The protection of Mother of Night, who had both a merciful and an indifferent side, bolstered a vampire's abilities. With his good equipment on, Murphy wasn't afraid to get into a fight.
At Murphy's prompting, Maxim gritted his teeth and downed a small vial of red liquid. He'd steeled himself thoroughly before setting out.
In an instant, blood vessels bulged in his eyes. Panting like a bull, he raised his weapon and let out a fearsome battle cry, then charged the nearest Witch Hunter.
Murphy followed close behind.
He fought using the adept Shadow Dash he'd honed while sneaking along walls, along with his beginner-level Blood Vulture Swordsmanship. Of course, he hadn't forgotten that he was also a psionic user.
So, with Maxim acting as his shield, Murphy unleashed Dark Psionic Blast.
It sounded impressive, but in reality, he just gathered the last of his psionic energy and hurled it out in a ball. It wasn't intimidating in the least.
Luckily, they were close enough!
The instant Maxim engaged the Witch Hunters, Murphy used his height advantage to slam a ball of dark energy right into the face of a short Witch Hunter.
His opponent reacted quickly. He fell with a scream, then immediately used a "blind fighting" technique to fire an arrow at Murphy. But it bounced off the breastplate over Murphy's heart without leaving so much as a scratch.
Triss's mom had used this Elder armor, after all!
Its protection was rock-solid!
Seeing his counterattack fail, the Witch Hunter, now sporting a "bleeding, smoky-eye look," drew his saber and tried to fight back. But the vampire kicked his wrist with a high kick, then climbed on top of him and thrust his sword straight into his eye.
Thanks to muscle memory and the speed boost from the night, the move was smooth and deadly, like a venomous snake sinking its fangs into its prey.
Warm liquid splashed across Murphy's cheek, but his first kill didn't disgust him.
Instead, the scent of blood turned into a peculiar sweetness in his breath. It seemed to awaken some dark desire within him, making his breathing grow hot.
In an instant, the four fangs beneath his lips, made for drinking blood, bared themselves.
Blood!
He craved blood!
It was like ants crawling all over him! Ah, just a little more!
Poor Murphy had turned down Triss's lavish feasts of fat rats time and again, so even after a whole year as a vampire, he'd never truly enjoyed a "blood feast."
Of course, the young man hadn't understood just how tempting fresh blood was to a vampire. So, when he tasted it for the first time, he plunged straight into the dangerous state of "blood hunger," completely unprepared.
The crimson in his pupils could no longer be concealed. He no longer needed his eyes to see.
A vampire in true combat mode could lock onto those "delicacies" with nothing but a moment's perception, and his movements grew swift and savage.
The ancient predator's instincts began to awaken in Murphy, tearing away his elegant disguise and revealing the Midnight Phantom's truest nature.
Only in this form was he a real vampire, unlike the hypocritical Midnight Nobles, who put on airs and affectations in their daily lives.
The vampire clans had been hated and despised across the continent for nearly a thousand years, yet had survived and multiplied amid endless hostility. Their scheming ways weren't the only reason.
Strength!
Power!
The true power blood bestowed was the foundation that had allowed this dark race to endure. And now, Murphy had touched that power too, becoming a true member of the Midnight Power Crowd!
"Ah!"
Maxim was fighting for the first time as well. The blood-fueled courage from the drug let him hold off two Witch Hunters, but before long, he took a hit to the arm and was kicked away. Murphy, now in the throes of "blood hunger," pounced on the nearest enemy from behind like a ghost.
He snapped the fingers of his opponent's counterattacking hand, then, amid the man's muffled groans and screams, sank his fangs in and drank the sweet "wine."
The two remaining Witch Hunters saw this and bared their teeth in fury.
They had plenty of experience fighting vampires. Rather than charge forward to kill the bloodsucking monster, they retreated at once—but five little players rushed out from either side and surrounded them.
The little players charged without any real plan. They had no weapons, either, and fought with their bare hands and sheer bravery. They should have been afraid of battle, but "fear" was an emotion players would never feel!
As long as it was in a game, there was nothing in the world they wouldn't dare do!
Once their initial confusion faded and the NPC had given them a hint, the five little players' rebellious nature came alive.
The enemy had health bars, and they'd used a dirty sneak attack to kill one of their people. Were they supposed to just let that go?
Under Leading Pigeon's command, they charged like a pack of pigs, then used their numerical advantage to tackle the two Witch Hunters, who were attacked from both sides, with savage, piled-on-man-on-man ferocity.
"Crack!"
As one little player was dragged along the ground, the Witch Hunter snapped his neck without hesitation. Seeing the instant kill, Leading Pigeon, who'd been kicked away, bared his teeth in fury.
"Fuck! Snail! Ah!! Give me back my boy!"
Roaring, he picked up a dead Witch Hunter's hand crossbow and grabbed a hunting knife. Then he charged back, disheveled and covered in dirt, and stabbed the Witch Hunter who'd strangled his precious boy right in the chest. After that, he stabbed him over and over as if venting his rage.
Their combat skills were awful!
They had absolutely no finesse!
They were making a mess of everything like clueless rookies.
But they had spirit!
They were vicious!
For little players just starting out, that was enough.
The other three players screamed and threw themselves into the fight. Like men slaughtering a pig, they pinned down the last struggling Witch Hunter with all their strength, until Maxim came dragging his injured arm over and cut the man's throat with his sword.
But even with four of them against one, the Witch Hunter managed, with his dying breath, to use a hidden stiletto to kill one of the little players who hadn't managed to get back up.
That showed just how savage he was and how fierce his will to fight remained.
And so the short, brutal skirmish came to an end.
Three players lost, eight blood thralls lost, Maxim injured, and the carriage gone—but the good news was that all four Witch Hunters had been killed.
And as a vampire, Murphy had finally tasted the deliciousness of blood for the first time.
"Thud."
The Witch Hunter's body, drained of half its blood and shriveled, hit the ground at Murphy's feet.
Having recovered from his blood-hungry state, Murphy wiped the sticky liquid from the corner of his mouth. He pursed his lips with a strange expression, as if savoring the taste. Then his face changed dramatically, and, like Lao Ba tossing away his phone after filming a video, he retched and threw up under everyone's gaze.
"Damn! They actually poisoned their blood. Witch Hunters, you really are something!"
Wiping his mouth, Murphy grumbled to himself.
The Witch Hunters' blood smelled delicious, but in reality, before hunting vampires, these psionically enhanced monster hunters took a special alchemical potion that made their blood carry a substance capable of weakening vampires.
Such potions were surely harmful to the body. But there was no world where you could hunt monsters without paying any price.
The only good news was that the potions would merely make a vampire who lacked experience and accidentally drank poisoned blood grow weak. They weren't fatal.
"My lord, are you all right?"
Maxim hurried over, cradling his arm, and offered Murphy a waterskin.
His arm had been stabbed badly, and blood was pouring from the wound. The delicious scent made Murphy, weak and seated on the ground, swallow.
Maxim noticed the small gesture. The loyal blood thrall gritted his teeth and held his arm out in front of Murphy.
He said quietly:
"Drink, my lord. My healthy blood will help you recover quickly."
"No need."
Murphy rasped the words out and pushed Maxim's offer away.
Partly, the experience had left him with a bit of a psychological aversion to drinking blood. Besides, the little players were watching. He couldn't let his glorious image be tarnished.
If word got out that he was using his own people as blood bags, maybe one day a 25-player raid would drop out of the sky in front of Triss's house to deliver justice.
"Let's check the village."
Murphy panted as he drank water to clear his throat and fight down the nauseating weakness, then said to Maxim:
"See if any of their people are still there. I remember the standard size of a Witch Hunter squad is six, according to the rumors. So the danger isn't over yet. Take my warriors with you!"
He pointed at the three little players chatting about their combat experience:
"My warriors have proved their strength and courage. They're trustworthy. Now, divide the spoils among them and arm them. Give them any valuables you find as a reward.
"Of course, you can keep a share for yourself too. You did well, Maxim. Your loyalty deserves a reward."
"It's only what I should do, my lord!"
Maxim grinned, tore open his ragged cloak to bandage his wound, and headed over to the little players with his sword in hand.
To his surprise, the warriors Lord Murphy had summoned from another world had already figured out how to loot the four corpses on their own.
They were chatting excitedly in their unique language as well. Their bold attitude earned Maxim's respect. They'd just lost three comrades, yet they could so calmly scorn death?
No wonder Lord Murphy had chosen them as his warriors!
Their combat skills were admittedly a little lacking, but will and courage were the finest qualities a warrior could possess.
When the three surviving little players saw the NPC Maxim approach, they immediately stood obediently to one side, looking at him expectantly as they waited for their reward.
But the language barrier was a major problem.
Once he realized they couldn't communicate, Maxim could only gesture as he pulled the leather armor off the bodies and handed it to the players, then spread his hands.
The little players got it. The NPC was telling them they could keep all this stuff.
"How generous. I thought he'd take the lion's share."
Leading Pigeon spoke as he fiddled with the hand crossbow.
The thing was worn, but finely made. Its model was unbelievably realistic, and it felt hefty and substantial in his hands—nothing like those flashy, tacky games where all you got was a texture.
The bolts in the crossbow glinted in the moonlight. They looked like finely crafted instruments of death, and he absolutely loved it.
Even more amazing was how real it felt. It was practically like he'd really crossed into another world, with no lag between his mind and this game body!
Zero latency. Awesome!
His two dorm buddies were just as excited.
One buckled two hunting sabers around his waist with weapon straps he'd pulled off the bodies, admiring himself nonstop. The other grabbed a hand-and-a-half sword, leaned on it, and COSplayed the King of Cotton Quilt. They were having the time of their lives.
After all, what teenage boy could resist real weapons?
They normally treasured even a perfect branch they found, wishing they could go practice with it in some innocent rapeseed field. So how could they resist a real weapon that could crack someone's skull?
As for the armor, the players happily accepted it despite the bloodstains.
It was gear!
They didn't know whether it boosted their stats, but everyone knew the benefits of good armor.
But the stuff was complicated to put on. The three little players spent several minutes helping one another and still couldn't manage it. In the end, Maxim couldn't bear to watch any longer and stepped in to show them how to fasten the leather armor's straps.
The white-haired blood thrall thought the three warriors were rather dim, like city kids visiting the countryside for the first time, marveling at everything.
Once he'd finished helping them, Leading Pigeon suddenly saw Maxim gesturing to them. Then the NPC strode toward the silent village with his rapier in hand.
The three little players looked at one another. After some guesswork, they decided this must be a "new quest."
"Damn, this game is realistic, all right, and definitely exciting, but why doesn't it even have a player interface? Do you get no notification when you accept a quest?
"Shouldn't there be an exclamation mark over his head that only we can see?"
Beside Leading Pigeon, his precious boy A-Cha'en complained:
"Is it not finished yet? This is a basic feature."
"Don't ask me. I have no idea either."
Leading Pigeon rolled his eyes and followed Maxim into the village. When he saw the carriage riddled with holes and the bodies inside in terrible condition, he felt a little sick and turned his head away, curling his lip as he said:
"We can't even understand what this NPC's saying. Only that handsome tutorial NPC can communicate with us. Who knows what the game company is thinking?"
"Maybe we haven't reached that stage of the test yet?"
The other dormmate, Spicy Gugu Chicken, carried the hand-and-a-half sword on his shoulder and swaggered along, feeling just like a hero. He said:
"Game testing is definitely a step-by-step process. Don't rush. With virtual reality tech this awesome, making some kind of player interface should be easy, right?"
"True."
The little players nodded and followed Maxim deeper into the village.
Come to think of it, even though it was the middle of the night, wasn't this fairly large village a little too quiet—
"These rookies. We had an eight-to-four advantage, and I was carrying the team, yet they still managed to play that badly. Do today's players play with their feet?"
Outside the village, Murphy rested as he grumbled.
He'd just checked, and the players had a three-day respawn timer!
That meant that even if the four "missing" little players logged in, he'd only have seven people at his disposal. Losing a third of his manpower all at once made Murphy wince.
Charging in recklessly wasn't going to work. He'd have to use some tricks next time.
"But at least the first live combat test is finished. Let's see the rewards."
Murphy breathed a sigh of relief, planning to reward himself.
But before he could even look at his character sheet, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end. Murphy sprang to his feet in alarm.
The instant he turned around, he heard a tremendous boom. One-sixth of Morland Village was swallowed by flames as an explosion tore through it.
Wh—
What the hell was that now?!
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