My Players Are So Fierce

Chapter 1:

Kadman City was as peaceful as ever today, although the dark clouds of war were looming nearby. Considering that the damned war had been going on for nearly ten years, the people who had long grown accustomed to rationing remained emotionally stable today.

What else could they do if not remain stable?

Rebel?

The vampire lords in the city had been waiting for them to try that, didn’t they know? Those bastards who drained people’s essence in the literal sense must be vexed that no good cannon fodder was being sent to the front lines, so the wise civilians naturally couldn’t indulge their desire.

“Look, that poor vampire is mooching relief aid again!”

“Shh shh shh, keep your voice down, don’t let him hear you. After all, he is an official member of the Blood Vulture Clan.”

“What’s there to fear? I heard from the aunt who works as a kitchen hand at the restaurant in the city hall, whose neighbor is the third cousin of my neighbor’s granduncle, that this guy and his elders are infamous ‘Blood Vulture good-for-nothings’. Rumor has it he’s just one step away from being expelled from the clan. What can he do even if he hears us? The vampires don’t want him either, so why should we poor commoners give him face?”

“Exactly! A full-fledged vampire coming to snatch relief aid from us commoners, how shameless! Even the servants of the destitute knights who fled here from East Prussia know to cover their faces when collecting relief rations, unlike him openly showing his face without any sense of decency!”

“But you have to admit, the guy is quite handsome.”

“Of course, or else how could the ‘money-hungry Tris’ have taken a fancy to him? I heard this guy used to be a pretty boy who made countless girls swoon. Uh oh, he’s looking this way, quick! Smile!”

As Murphy turned his head towards the crowd, the whispering group immediately switched to flashing sweet and flattering smiles at him, just like they did when greeting other Blood Vulture Clan members, full of deference and insincerity.

“Good morning, you idle babbling fools!”

Murphy returned an impeccable smile, and greeted them in his “hometown dialect” as well.

Though the sight of them nodding and bowing in deference was rather satisfying, bullying these other-realm bumpkins who didn’t understand the language wasn’t actually that fun.

Mainly because even the most amusing game gets dull if you play it for a whole month straight.

But his draped black hair, his starkly contrasting black and white eyes that seemed to speak, and his androgynous features made the young ladies and married women in the crowd swoon. It was just a pity that his unnaturally pale skin and the tinge of blood in his eyes made them hesitate.

A vampire.

The legendary supernatural being.

A dark creature that slept by day and prowled by night, always fond of doing horrible things like imprisoning, torturing, and drinking blood. This gave them an extremely bad reputation across the entire continent. But this was the Transia region of the Portia Federation, a territory controlled by vampires, so their reputation was slightly better here.

Well, by “slightly better” I mean the civilians wouldn’t openly curse at them and greet them with pitchforks, but being bad-mouthed behind their backs like just now was still inevitable.

After all, the Blood Vultures’ deep roots here of over four hundred years had directly led to this region having the highest number of ghost stories on the continent, with the number of missing persons around Kadman City alone enough to form a reinforced battalion each year. Under such circumstances, it would be a miracle for commoners and vampires to get along.

Murphy was used to the whispers around him.

Maintaining the aloof demeanor befitting a vampire, he ignored the mixture of malicious and benign gazes around him, queued up quite lawfully, patiently waited his turn, he even let a lady holding a hungry child go ahead of him.

This little detail made a few scholar-looking people in the crowd view this young vampire a bit more positively, though Murphey himself didn’t know what use their goodwill would be.

Hmm, whether useful or not, earning goodwill could be considered a good thing for now.

“Two portions of Type A relief rations, please.”

When it was his turn, he politely made the request to the soldier distributing the food supplies, his manner impeccable, as courtly as if he were being received by the king himself.

Elegance was his forte.

However, the “king” before him simply scowled, tossing two rough packages at Murphy without even looking at him again, despite the insignia on the soldier’s uniform indicating he was a “blood servant” bound to serve a vampire lord respectfully.

Unfortunately, Murphy was clearly not on his list of masters to respect.

“Little Murphy, your ‘good days’ with Lady Tris are about to end.”

Just as Murphy turned to leave, a mocking whisper rang in his ear like a voice beside him. He glanced back to see the vampire lord overseeing the food distribution from the shadows giving him an insincere smile as well.

Murphy didn’t recognize this fellow, as he had only “arrived” here a month ago.

Perhaps there was information about him in the lingering fragments of memory, but Murphy couldn’t be bothered to look for clues, because his new identity was rather awkward.

As the accidental progeny of the “infamous good-for-nothing” Lady Tris from a serious drinking incident, Murphy’s standing within the Blood Vulture Clan was truly heart-wrenching and tear-inducing to behold.

In the one year since becoming a vampire, this poor sod could count on one hand the number of times he had entered the “Blood Vulture Halls” of Kadman City, let alone received party invitations from other clanmates.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that in the month since he came here, he had seen more plump rats in Tris’s dilapidated manor than vampires.

Yet despite his “hermit” existence, Murphy was actually quite renowned in the Blood Vulture Clan. Even the blood servant old grannies in charge of sweeping and cleaning the Blood Vulture Halls knew him, for Murphy was the first clansman in Kadman City who did not abandon the “Queen of Waste” Lady Tris.

From the time he was turned into a vampire until now, one year of living in and serving Tris in her rundown courtyard like caring for family.

Such a heartwarming tale was quite “legendary” amidst the scheming and violence of a vampire clan, its fame even included in strange stories like the “Seven Mysteries of Kadman City”.

“What do you mean?”

Murphey kept his mouth still to maintain his demeanor, but his voice carried back to the vampire in the shadows.

Ventriloquism!

The most basic application of the inborn dark spiritual ability of vampires.

?Successfully used a minor spiritual skill, dark spiritual perception and control proficiency increased, currently at “Novice” level.?

The moment he finished ventriloquizing, this prompt appeared before Murphy’s eyes, but he was long used to it, only feeling once again how difficult it was to level up this skill.

An entire month, and still only Novice.

“Nothing, just wishing you a pleasant ‘journey’ to come.”

The vampire replied with an ambiguous tone.

Probably feeling that the mockery wasn’t enough, he made a gesture, and the blood servant distributing the rations immediately fawned over Murphy by stuffing three more ration packs into his arms.

What was that about?

Murphy blinked, not visibly reacting as he bowed slightly to bid farewell to his clanmate, who returned the obligatory clan courtesy just as perfunctorily.

On the way back to the manor, Murphy looked at the five ration packs in his arms and couldn’t help thinking:

“Does this mean ‘eat your fill before the journey’? Lunatics! I’m already this low-key and pathetic, who would still bother me? These damn vampires really need to be disciplined!”

With such grumblings, he soon slipped through the shadows along the walls towards his “manor”, though every hundred meters a prompt would appear before his eyes.

?Successfully completed a shadow walk, stealth and infiltration skill proficiency increased, currently at “Proficient” level.?

One might think he was practicing his skills, but in reality he was doing this out of necessity. After all, who would willingly slink along the walls like a thief if they could walk openly on the street?

It was nearly 9 o’clock, and the sun had become vicious. For a vampire, the most excruciating time of day was approaching. To avoid being scorched by sunlight, with no money to purchase expensive sun protection products, Murphy had no choice but to move along the shadows.

Normal vampires would never be active during daylight hours, night was when their day of merriment began. But Murphy did not have such a luxurious habit.

On one hand, his current impoverished situation and struggle to make ends meet compelled him to hurry and collect food supplies early, lest he and his good-for-nothing esteemed elder go hungry that day.

On the other hand, the other-realm soul within this vampire body stubbornly kept to its regular schedule.

He had tried the vampire habit of resting by day and prowling by night out of curiosity when he first “came over”, but ended up like a 30-year-old man pulling an all-nighter at an internet cafe – it took him three days to recover.

He could stay up late, but only a little.

“Sigh.”

Although it was just morning, this was Murphy’s 17th sigh of the day.

He pushed open the iron gate to the “manor” while carrying the food, but used too much force, causing the rusty, long-neglected iron gate to slam against the “garden” wall overgrown with vines and weeds, kicking up dust in the process. The commotion startled three plump rats, sending them scurrying away.

?Successfully carried out scene destruction, close combat and physical attack skill proficiency increased, currently at “Novice” level?

The familiar prompt popped up again, leaving Murphy feeling weary.

This novice-level close combat skill was partly thanks to this poor iron gate providing practice over the past month, so shouldn’t he thank Uncle Iron Gate?

Murphy looked at the “manor” he had been living in for a month. From the dilapidated buildings, one could vaguely make out its former glory, a very classic “secluded amidst the hustle” mansion, with a meticulously designed garden spanning the nearly 1000 square meter courtyard.

There was even a hidden wine cellar and a towering observatory, while the main house boasted an elegant style adorned with unknown deity statues.

Unfortunately, that grandeur was at least a century ago.

Now this run-down manor was little more than a condemned building unfit even for vagrants to visit. It was hard to imagine this being the dwelling of a self-proclaimed 500-year-old former vampire elder.

“Revnor Murphy Lessenbra!”

A cold call suddenly came from behind him.

Murphy, who had just finished securing the gate with practiced ease, turned to see a shadow gathering on the wall, accompanied by the sound of flapping wings. A slender silhouette emerged before him.

This was clearly an advanced spiritual technique, but more importantly, the person before him drew his gaze.

It was a vampire wearing luxurious crimson robes, holding a short staff. The exquisite insignia on his chest identified him as a Blood Vulture Guard who answered directly to the patriarch’s commands.

They rarely appeared, and each outing represented the will of the Blood Hawk Patriarch, Lord Salrokdar Lessenbra.

An ominous foreboding immediately arose in Murphy’s heart.

Yet he still greeted this kinsman with the utmost perfect decorum. The guard gave a curt nod in response, retrieving a sealed velvet pouch from his robe and handing it to Murphy.

In an all-business manner, he said:

“The war front is in urgent need. The pioneer forces of the Goldflower Kingdom have approached the borders of the Transia region. War is coming to Kadman City, and every Blood Vulture member must contribute to the defense of our territory.

This is your next mission.

Deliver this encrypted order from the patriarch to the Midnight Hunters’ camp thirty miles east of Morlan Village. You have three days to complete it!”

Murphy’s heart skipped a beat. Taking the pouch, he said softly:

“But I’ve heard the Goldflower Kingdom’s witch hunters have already infiltrated that area.”

“Correct,” the Blood Vulture Guard nodded in explanation.

“Those dogs under the Banner of the Circle Tower are carrying out tactical blockades. This means you’ll have to risk crossing their hunt encirclement at midnight.

But for a noble Blood Vulture, this task should not be difficult.”

“Hey, your ‘not difficult’ conclusion applies to normal vampires, right? Open your two eyes and take a good look at me! Besides being especially handsome, what about this vampire before you could be considered ‘normal’?”

Murphy’s heart was raging.

But he took a deep breath, maintaining his expression that was straining to stay composed, and said:

“I’ll need armor and weapons. And if possible, I could also use some assistance.”

“Hm?”

This request made the patriarch’s guard blink, looking over Murphy’s overly “humble” appearance with a strange tone:

“You seem to have been turned for some time now, but still don’t have your own blood servants? You even need armor and weapons… wait, is this Tris’s manor? Your revered elder is that waste of… I mean, the former elder Tris?

Ah, no wonder then.

I have heard some rumors about you in the Blood Vulture Halls, but I thought they were just absurd jokes. After all, how destitute could a vampire truly become?”

Saying this, the vampire gave Murphy a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and said meaningfully:

“It seems you’ve had it tough too, kid.”

“Yeah, this is quite different from what I imagined vampire life would be,” Murphy could no longer keep his composure.

He could tolerate mockery and malice from others, but this vampire’s sympathetic gaze made him sigh deeply, his face full of sorrow.

Seeing this, the patriarch’s guard didn’t feel it appropriate to say more. With a sigh, he said:

“At dusk today when you set out, there will be enough blood servants bringing you the supplies you need. Additionally, if you don’t return, others will… err, I mean other reliable people will take over caring for Elder Tris.

So, go bravely.”

With that, he turned and dissipated into fluttering bats that disappeared into the shadows, leaving Murphy standing there holding the mission item.

“Is this them assuming I’m already doomed? Hey, when sending someone to their death, could you not spend a few seconds masking your expressions and words?

Tsk, luckily I have cheat codes!”

He muttered sarcastically, then habitually glanced at the large progress bar occupying most of the strange semi-transparent interface before him:

?Decompression progress of?Reality Realm?test version admin system installation package: 99.87%, please wait patiently.?

“After over a month of waiting, it will finish decompressing this afternoon,” Murphy bit his lip, the face that had developed muscle memory for maintaining an elegant posture now showing a genuine smile.

Humming a tune, he bent down to gather the relief rations and walked into the courtyard, thinking:

“Once I get these cheat codes that can defy the heavens and rewrite my destiny, I’ll make all you bastards pay. I’ve kept a little notebook of everyone who’s been rude to me, I’m not a generous person at all.

Heh, just you wait, the good days are coming.”