Chapter 1

Chapter 1

If she could choose again, Su Lyle would absolutely not have opened this godforsaken game on a godforsaken Wednesday night.

After all, no one would be happy about a pair of pale arms suddenly shooting out from the game screen.

Especially when those arms dragged her into the screen and sent her here—

Into a carriage of ancient European design.

Just seconds ago, she was sitting on her soft sofa at home, but now her hand was on a chipped copper armrest carved with irises.

Dark gauze curtains covered the windows on both sides, firmly blocking out the light and the outside world.

But Su Lyle was certain the darkness hadn't blinded her.

Her lips pressed into a tight line as she removed the black lace gloves that went all the way up to her upper arms. She carefully ran her fingers over the carriage wall until a raised wooden splinter pierced her flesh. Only then did she take a deep breath—

Great, just wonderful. This realistic sensation was definitely not a dream; she had truly been pulled into this game called *Filthy Saints*.

And on her first full day off after a solid month of non-stop work, no less!

You've got to be kidding me!

Although her work in the emergency department was heavy and exhausting, compared to this weird and creepy game world, she preferred the familiar things she could control!

But there was some good news.

Lyle slowly raised her gaze, looking at the blue-purple text that flashed and vanished in her field of vision.

[Character identity drawn: Lyle Gangro, widow of the late, famous physician Harvey Thomas of Central City]

Her husband died right after she crossed over. Could there be better news than that?

Just then, the clamor outside the carriage suddenly intensified. It seemed many people were shouting something loudly and rushing in the same direction.

The crowd surged, causing the carriage to sway continuously.

Lyle gripped the armrest and saw the driver up front wrenching the horse's head around to change direction.

"Madam!" the coachman's voice came through. "There are far too many people at this gathering. We can't go any further and must wait here for a short while."

"But rest assured," he moved aside some obstruction and leaned closer to the carriage, "I've stopped the carriage at the very edge of the square. No one will disturb you. However, I truly suggest you come out and see. A grand spectacle like this doesn't come around often."

A grand spectacle?

The noisy clamor was indeed giving Lyle a headache. Through the gauze, she saw countless people crowded onto the spacious circular square, excitedly shouting towards a figure in priestly robes on a raised platform.

"Archbishop! Archbishop!"

That's an archbishop?

Lyle held her breath, focusing intently. *Filthy Saints* was a competitive role-playing game developed by her younger sister's team, with whom she lived. It was still some time from release. She had only opened it out of curiosity tonight and knew nothing about the game's background, plot, or gameplay.

This unknown made her nervous.

The only thing she remembered was that just before being pulled into the game, it had given her a choice between two factions.

At the time, helping her sister with testing and playing the game for the first time, she had chosen the more exciting option without hesitation, clicking on [Survivor] without even glancing at the [Pursuer] beside it.

But now, it seemed that choice had been spot-on.

Look, there were so many fellow human Survivors, and an archbishop to guide them. She was not alone.

Moreover, judging by the shouts, the humans had strong cohesion and high organization. Such Survivors could often deal a fatal blow to the Pursuers.

The coachman was right; this might be a good opportunity.

Lyle decided to get out and look. As she grabbed the door handle, the archbishop on the platform raised his hands high, bathed in the dazzling golden sunlight, and shouted, "Praise our Lord! The last Vampire Clan has been completely wiped out by us! None survive!"

Behind him, twelve gallows slowly rose.

Each gallows held a bound humanoid figure, but the moment they touched the sunlight, these creatures instantly burst into flames before their faces could even be seen.

Screams tore through the sky. Flames roared, and the crowd erupted into a tidal wave of cheers.

[System detection: Game background imported]

[Background: A fantasy otherworld set within a Middle Ages framework]

Looking at the blue-purple text before her, Lyle raised an eyebrow. Oh, so the Pursuers in this world were vampires.

Very fitting for a religious background.

But wasn't the vampire race exterminated? Shouldn't the human Survivors have cleared the game already? Why import a game background now?

She turned the door handle. A sliver of sunlight fell on her pale hand, feeling like a splash of boiling water.

Or like a pot of high-concentration sulfuric acid.

Before she could react, searing blisters instantly bubbled up on the back of her hand.

"But—" the archbishop in the distance lowered his hands, his voice hoarse and mysterious, "I still see ominous signs ahead. Shadows linger, evil wanders among us cloaked in darkness—the Vampire race may not be completely wiped out! We are still in danger!"

An impassioned voice rose from below, "Find them! Kill them!"

These words ignited the crowd. Countless people waved their fists and roared, "Find them! Kill them! Kill them! Kill all the blood-sucking monsters!"

[System detection: Game Pursuer faction activated]

[Pursuers: All humans]

After the familiar text flashed and disappeared before her eyes, Lyle in the carriage at the edge of the square fell back into the seat with a *thud*, staring in shock. She moved as fast as she could to put the black lace gloves back on.

—To cover the wound just burned by the blazing sun.

But the searing pain hadn't faded. It felt like her blood vessels were being gouged out one by one. Her face contorted, but she forcibly swallowed all screams, only letting out a silent, hysterical shout in her heart,

"Holy sh—"

[System detection: Game Survivor faction activated]

[Survivor: Lyle Gangro]

[Friendly reminder: Factions are irreconcilable, non-negotiable, and betrayal is impossible. Please, as the last vampire, strive to survive and clear the game with one life.]

[Otherwise, your soul and body will be utterly annihilated in this otherworld.]

[Finally, wish you a pleasant game.]

Pleasant my ass!

Lyle stared at her hand in disbelief, her whole body beginning to shake uncontrollably.

*She was a vampire?*

*She was the last remaining vampire in this world?!*

All humans—the most cunning, treacherous, intelligent, and numerous race in this world—were her enemies?!

Hold on, that can't be right?!

A chill shot up from the soles of her feet.

No wonder the carriage windows were covered with thick black gauze curtains.

No wonder she could still see everything outside in such utter darkness.

Lyle's vision darkened; her heart sank to the bottom. Despair and collapse—she didn't know which arrived first—overwhelmed her simultaneously.

She could already picture the tragic scene: herself tied up and thrown into the sunlight, with countless people cheering excitedly for her death.

The celebration outside continued. The Archbishop seemed to be announcing some plans, with excited shouts from humans everywhere. Although the gallows had already descended back beneath the ground, every human was still celebrating the victory. They hugged each other, dancing on the marble ground.

Even the coachman stood on the carriage, waving his arms vigorously, quacking with laughter.

However, to Lyle's ears, these sounds of celebration were no different from a death warrant.

She would die. If discovered, she would *really* die.

Cold sweat poured down like rain. Trembling, she pressed her injured hand. A fierce survival instinct suddenly flared.

What was done couldn't be undone, but she didn't necessarily have to die, right?

No, she definitely would not die!

At the very least, she absolutely could not die in this murky, unfamiliar otherworld!

She still had her little sister, her family, and her friends. She had to return alive!

She hadn't been discovered yet, so there was still... there must still be a chance!

The burning flesh was still festering, firmly stuck to the glove.

Lyle bit her tongue hard, forcing herself to calm down.

Outside, the coachman finally finished letting off steam. Rubbing his hands, he sat down. "Madam, did you hear? This is so thrilling! The last Vampire Clan has finally been eradicated! The remaining scattered vampires are nothing to fear! I truly hope this news brings you some joy!"

Since Mr. Thomas passed away, Madam hasn't shown interest in anything.

Hopefully, after the funeral, things will change.

As one of the "scattered vampires not worth fearing," Lyle had no idea how to react. Inside the carriage, there was only a tomblike silence.

The coachman waited a moment. Receiving no reply, he could only sigh helplessly and pick up the reins again. "Please sit tight. I'll take you back now."

With the sound of "clip-clop," the carriage finally left the despair-inducing square.

Great. Lyle wiped off the cold sweat, giving herself a pep talk. She had successfully made it through the beginning.

As for the coachman, he was probably taking her home or somewhere else she was familiar with.

So now, she at least had a brief period to think and formulate a survival plan.

The game system said factions were irreconcilable, compromise was impossible, and betrayal was out of the question. So, turning enemies to her side was useless. Once confronted, it's likely a fight to the death.

Another bit of good news appeared. As an emergency room doctor with five years of experience, Lyle didn't have particularly strong moral qualms about blood and death. She believed she could calmly cross a certain line, using every possible means to preserve her own life.

This wasn't her world. Anyone or anything here had no connection to her.

The most important thing was herself.

Survival was her ultimate goal from now on.

However, what concerned Lyle more was the system's next sentence.

[Please, as the last vampire, strive to survive and complete the game with one life.]

Complete with one life, but what are the win conditions? Is there an exam paper without questions?

Moreover, the system loaded everything except memories.

The coachman knew her. She had a husband. That meant she had a complete life trajectory, but no matching memories.

Was this encouraging her to explore on her own? Or encouraging her to find creative ways to die?

In her heart, Lyle cursed the game system and those pale arms that dragged her in. Then, wasting no more time, she endured the intense pain and began searching inside the carriage.

Beneath her skirt, she found a small woolen purse embroidered with irises and chamomile. Inside was a long-handled key of European style, a clean handkerchief, a papyrus purchase order for sixty-five lily plants, and several stacks of funeral invitations that made her break out in a cold sweat.

The deceased's name on them was Harvey Thomas, the late husband of Lyle's current identity.

The key point was the funeral's date and officiant on the back: September 13th, 7 a.m., Pastor Anthony.

Very specific, very great, but damn it, when is that? Two days later? Eight days later?

Judging by the number of remaining invitations, this funeral most likely hadn't started yet.

Lyle closed her eyes, trembling as she forcefully rubbed her brow bone.

7 a.m. and a pastor... This was setting her up to die.

Just then, the carriage suddenly stopped.

Through the curtain, Lyle could see what seemed to be a spacious warehouse... or perhaps a stable? It was built beside a two-story house, connected to the house by a dimly lit corridor.

The house had warm white walls and a slanted roof. A beautiful path paved with bluish-gray stones wound its way. Beneath the fence carved with irises and chubby angels were piles of pure white lilies, likely a spontaneous act of mourning by the people.

It seemed Dr. Harvey was indeed a renowned physician. Lyle shifted her gaze further away.

This place truly seemed built according to the Middle Ages. Although the house before her looked quite nice, the surrounding houses still crowded together like bees. The narrow alleys were dark and cramped, with not a single ray of sunlight falling. Pedestrians were pitifully few.

"Madam, we've arrived."

As he spoke, the coachman brought down a large bundle of things from the carriage roof, piling them by the back door. He then placed a step board below the carriage door.

"Madam," he asked after a moment, removing his hat with a puzzled expression, "are you alright? Do you need me to take you somewhere else?"

It was time to get out of the carriage.

Lyle kept checking her still-trembling hand, confirming not a single wound was exposed. Then she carefully adjusted the thin-veiled hat on her head, tucking her entire upper face behind the black veil. Only then did she lift her eyelids.

*There was no sunlight nearby. Don't be scared. Keep moving.*

With her uninjured hand, she pushed the carriage door open.

Instantly, a wave of heat carrying a mix of various smells washed over her.

Lyle smelled the stench of rotting vegetables and fish, the sour tang from ants crawling on the ground, and the salty odor of sweat seeping through the coachman’s clothes.

More importantly, she caught the unmistakably clear, sweet scent churning beneath the sweat—impossible to ignore.

This scent was far more distinct and intense than the burning pain brought by sunlight.

In less than a second, Lyle felt her entire body uncontrollably ignite.

Beneath the black veil, the vampire’s eyes abruptly turned crimson.