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His little players couldn’t just idle for 24 hours waiting for him to summon them to the other realm for great deeds. In their own world, they had to work jobs to earn money, buy baby formula for kids, cosmetics for wives, support parents and care for younger siblings.

Damn it!

He must consider this important factor next time!

But now was not the time to make up for oversights. After encouraging his “otherworld warriors” with an NPC phrase, Murphy turned and patted Maxim’s shoulder.

Although he reminded himself to be careful and cautious, Tris was still waiting for him in Kadman City and that queen of waste would definitely starve on the streets without him, when the players hadn’t grown strong yet, he had to take the lead if something happened!

Fortunately, it was nighttime now.

The Night Mother, with both merciful and indifferent faces, blessed all vampiric abilities, allowing the well-equipped Murphy to fearlessly engage in combat.

Receiving Murphy’s hint, Maxim, who had braced himself before departing, gulped down a small vial of red liquid.

Instantly, his eyes burst with bloodshot veins. Panting like a raging bull, he gripped his weapon and let out an intimidating battle cry as he charged the nearest Witch Hunter.

Murphy followed closely behind.

Employing his skilled-level Shadow Walking honed from wandering alleys, along with novice-level Blood Vulture Sword Arts, Murphy engaged the enemy. Of course, he didn’t forget he was also a spirit user.

So under Maxim’s meat shield, Murphy released a Dark Spirit Blast.

It sounded mighty, but in reality he just gathered the remnants of his internal spirits into a spherical form to hurl out, with no real intimidating force.

Fortunately, the engagement distance was close enough!

The moment Maxim clashed with the Witch Hunters, a short one was struck square in the face by Murphy’s Dark Spirit Ball, aided by his height advantage.

Reacting swiftly, the downed foe let out a scream and in the same motion fired an arrow at Murphy’s heart, which bounced harmlessly off his breastplate without leaving a scratch.

No wonder it was the Blood Vulture Elder Armor once worn by Tris!

Its defense was formidable!

Seeing his counterattack failed, the Witch Hunter with a “bloody smok makeup” look drew his battle knife to resist. But the vampire kicked his wrist, then mounted him and thrust his longsword into the foe’s eye socket.

With muscle memory and speed enhanced by the Night, this maneuver was smooth and lethal, like a striking venomous snake.

Warm liquid splashed across Murphy’s cheek, yet the scent didn’t disgust this first-time killer.

Instead, the smell of blood became a strange sweetness in his breath, as if tempting some dark desire within, making his breathing grow heated.

In an instant, four specialized blood-drinking fangs emerged beneath his lips.

Blood!

He craved blood!

It was like ants crawling over his body! Ah, just a little more!

Pitifully, having refused Tris’s offers of plump elderly rats, Murphy had never truly indulged in a vampire’s “blood banquet” despite being turned a year ago.

The young man didn’t understand how fresh blood tempted vampires, so he was unprepared when this first taste plunged him into the dangerous “bloodlust” state.

His crimson pupils could no longer be concealed. A true battle-ready vampire needed no eyes to accurately lock onto “delicacies” through instant perception alone, their movements also becoming swifter and more savage.

The ancient predator’s instincts began to awaken within Murphy, stripping away his elegant guise to reveal the true Midnight Ghoul.

In this form, he was a real vampire, not the affected posturing of those hypocritical Midnight Aristocrats.

The vampire Clan survived and thrived across the hateful continent for nearly a thousand years not just through their conspiratorial ways.

Strength!

Power!

The true power bestowed by fresh blood was the foundation of this dark race’s endurance. And now, Murphy had tasted that power, becoming a true Midnight Power-person!

“Ah!”

Likewise a first-time combatant, Maxim entangled two Witch Hunters with drug-enhanced bloodlust, but was quickly struck in the arm and kicked away. However, the blood-frenzied Murphy pounced on the nearest foe like a ghoul.

Snapping the enemy’s retaliating fingers with a crunch, he drank deeply of the sweet “wine” amidst grunts and screams by clamping his fangs down.

The remaining two Witch Hunters saw this monstrous sight and bared their fangs.

Experienced against vampires, they didn’t try to kill this bloodsucking monster, instead retreating rapidly. But they were surrounded from two sides by five little players.

The little players charged without technique, just brimming courage, hands empty. They should have felt battle fear, but “fear” is an emotion players never experience!

In a game, there is nothing they dare not attempt!

After initial confusion passed and the NPC provided hints, the little players’ innate audacity was unleashed.

The enemy had damaged health bars, using underhanded ambushes that killed one of their own. Did they expect to get away with it?

Under the Leading Pigeon’s command, they fearlessly assaulted the two surrounded Witch Hunters in a male mass-attack frenzy, overwhelming them to the ground.

“Crack!”

One little player had his neck cleanly twisted by a grounded Witch Hunter. Seeing this instant kill, the kicked-away Leading Pigeon bared fangs and eyes.

“Damn it! Snail! Ah!! Give me back my brother’s life!”

He roared with reddened eyes, grabbing a dropped hand crossbow and hunting knife, then charged the Witch Hunter who killed his comrade, brutally stabbing into his heart before venting in a frenzied stabbing frenzy.

His combat skills were too lacking!

Completely devoid of technique!

Simply flailing around like a deranged newbie.

But he had spirit!

Vicious enough!

For newbie little players, that was sufficient.

The other three players also shrieked as they dogpiled and restrained the last struggling Witch Hunter until the injured Maxim dragged over to sever his neck with one sword stroke.

But even outnumbered four-to-one, this Witch Hunter’s final dying breath took one more little player with a concealed dagger thrust.

His ferocity and tenacious will to fight was evident.

This short but intense encounter ended.

The players lost three. The Blood Servants lost eight. Maxim was injured and the carriage lost. But the good news was all four Witch Hunters were killed.

And as a vampire, Murphy finally tasted the delight of fresh blood for the first time.

“Thump.”

The desiccated corpse of the half-drained Witch Hunter hit the ground at Murphy’s feet.

Recovering from bloodlust, Murphy wiped the viscous liquid from his lips, his expression odd as he savored the lingering taste, before his face contorted violently. Like a viral video tosser, he suddenly vomited under everyone’s gaze.

“Damn! They poisoned the blood. Witch Hunters, you sure are crafty ones!”

Murphy cursed inwardly as he wiped his mouth.

A Witch Hunter’s blood may smell delicious, but these spirit-enhanced monster hunters actually ingested special alchemical potions before facing vampires, filling their veins with chemicals that weaken vampires.

Such potions surely harmed their bodies, but no one gets something for nothing when hunting monsters, in any world.

The only upside was that these poisons only weakened inexperienced vampires who accidentally imbibed the tainted blood, not fatally harming them.

“My lord, are you alright?” Maxim hurried over, offering Murphy his waterskin with his injured, bleeding arm.

The sight and scent of this healthy blood made the weakened, sitting Murphy’s throat move.

Maxim noticed this detail. Gritting his teeth, this loyal Blood Servant extended his own arm towards Murphy.

He said softly, “Drink, my lord. This healthy blood will help you recover swiftly.”

“No need,” Murphy said hoarsely, waving off Maxim’s kind offer.

On one hand, this experience gave him some psychological aversion to drinking blood. On the other, the little players were still watching, so he couldn’t tarnish his glorious image.

If word got out that he treated his own like blood packs, maybe a 25-player justice brigade would descend on Tris’s doorstep one day.

“Check the village,” Murphy said while drinking water to clear his throat and suppress the unpleasant weakness. He addressed Maxim, “See if any of them remain. I recall rumors that a basic Witch Hunter squad has six members, so the danger isn’t over yet. Take my warriors with you!”

He pointed to the three little players exchanging battle stories. “My warriors have proven their strength and courage. They are trustworthy. Now, distribute the spoils to them, arm them, and share any found valuables as rewards.

Of course, you can keep a share for yourself too, Maxim. Your loyalty deserves a reward.”

“It is merely my duty, my lord!” Maxim grinned, tearing off his tattered cloak to bandage his wound. He then picked up his sword and went to the little players.

To his surprise, these other-worldly warriors summoned by Lord Murphy had already started looting the four corpses uninstructed.

They chatted excitedly in their unique language, their heroic demeanor making Maxim respect them. They had just lost three comrades, yet they could treat death with such indifference?

Truly befitting the warriors Lord Murphy favored!

Though their combat skills were lacking, willpower and courage were a warrior’s finest qualities after all.

The three surviving little players stood obediently aside when Maxim the NPC approached, eyeing him expectantly for rewards.

However, the language barrier was a major issue.

Unable to communicate verbally, Maxim could only act out gestures, stripping the leather armor off corpses to hand to the players, and then making an open-handed offering motion.

The little players understood, this NPC meant these items now belonged to them.

“So generous, I thought he’d keep the lion’s share,” the Leading Pigeon remarked while fiddling with the hand crossbow.

Though worn, the compact weapon felt solidly crafted, its modeling exceptionally realistic and weighty in his grip, utterly unlike the garish low-polygon junk from other games.

The quarrels loaded in the firing mechanism glistened coldly in the moonlight – clearly well-made lethal instruments that delighted him.

Even better was the genuine tactile sensation, as if he had truly traversed into another reality, his mind completely synchronized with this game avatar without any lag!

Zero latency, awesome!

His two dormmates felt the same way.

One was admiring the two hunting knives he had secured to his belt with stripped weapon straps, while the other shouldered a half-sword, cosplaying as the Cotton Quilt King, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

What grown man could resist the allure of authentic weapons after all?

Usually even finding a decent stick was treasured enough to crave field testing on some hapless veggie patch. How could they ignore tools capable of cracking skulls?

As for the bloody armor pieces, the players gladly accepted them.

This was equipment!

Though unsure if stats could be added, everyone knew the benefits of high armor.

However, it was quite troublesome to put on, and after a few minutes of the three players helping each other, they still hadn’t gotten the leather armor’s straps properly fastened. Maxim couldn’t watch any longer and came over to personally demonstrate how to secure it.

The albino blood servant felt these three warriors were quite naive, like countryside kids arriving in the city for the first time and finding everything novel.

Once they sorted out the equipment situation, the Leading Pigeon noticed Maxim gesturing for them to follow as he headed towards the silent village ahead brandishing his rapier.

The three little players exchanged glances, ultimately deducing this meant a “new quest.”

“Damn, this game is extremely realistic and adequately intense, but how come there’s not even a player interface? No quest prompts either?”

The Leading Pigeon complained, “Shouldn’t there be an exclamation mark hovering over his head that only we can see?”

His comrade “Ah Yuen” next to the Leading Pigeon complained:

“Maybe that part isn’t finished yet? But that’s basic functionality.”

“Don’t ask me, I’m clueless too.”

The Leading Pigeon rolled his eyes, following Maxim into the village. Seeing the wrecked carriage and gruesome remains, he averted his gaze queasily and muttered:

“We still can’t understand this NPC’s speech, only that handsome new player guide NPC can communicate with us. Who knows what this game company was thinking.”

“Perhaps it’s not at that testing stage yet?”

Their other dormmate “Spicy Gugu Chicken” swaggered along shouldering his half-sword, feeling like a hero. He said:

“Game testing naturally progresses step-by-step, right? Just look at this awesome VR tech, adding a player interface is child’s play in comparison.”

“True enough.”

The little players nodded in agreement as they followed Maxim deeper into the village.

Speaking of which, this sizable village seemed unnaturally quiet for the late night hour—

“These noobs…even my solo streaming runs of chaotic high wind games didn’t get this messy. Do today’s players control with their feet?”

Outside the village, Murphy rested while complaining.

He had just checked, the player respawn time was three days!

This meant even if those four “disconnected” little players came back online, he could only command seven people temporarily, instantly losing a third of his forces, which pained Murphy.

It seemed the rush and attack approach didn’t work well, so he’d need to play with more finesse going forward.

“But at least the first live combat test is complete. Might as well check the rewards.”

Murphy sighed in relief, intending to reward himself.

But before he could check his character sheet, a chill ran down his spine, making him jolt upright.

As he turned around, a thunderous boom erupted, instantly engulfing one-sixth of Morland Village in an explosive fiery blaze.

What…

What in the hell was this situation?!