Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lyle fell silent and still.

Spiderweb-like, bluish-purple lines slowly crept across her pale, milk-white skin, and her fully dilated pupils were eerily fixed on his face.

Overwhelming panic seized Dawson. Ignoring the pain in his body, he scrambled and crawled toward the door.

"Blood... blood... she's blood...!" He never got to finish the word. Something icy cold suddenly pressed against his neck.

Dawson was terrified out of his mind. He fumbled at his waist for a small knife and slashed backward frantically. Yet, the moment he turned, the hand holding the knife was broken again with practiced ease.

Crimson pupils loomed terrifyingly close. He was certain he saw a demon straight from hell in that instant.

The next second, the demon sank its teeth into his neck.

How fragile the human neck is.

Before Dawson could even gasp, his cervical spine snapped with a sickening *crack* into an unnatural angle.

Most of his blood vessels ruptured. Blood surged like a torrential waterfall, flowing unimpeded into the vampire's throat.

Warm, smooth, perfectly sweet.

It was a taste completely different from coagulated, dried blood clots, softer and more ethereal than honeyed clouds.

A red flashbang seemed to explode before Lyle's eyes, the shattering fragments coalescing into a vast and dazzling firework display.

The fireworks swallowed her reason. Her mind felt as if it were soaking in a hot spring, leaving only a more violent, all-consuming craving.

Only a few seconds passed before Dawson stopped struggling.

A few minutes later, Lyle finally released her bite.

The blond, blue-eyed man slumped down limply like a sack of grain. His once-brilliant blue eyes had now turned gray. Paired with his shriveled, desiccated upper body, he resembled a mummy crushed beneath a pyramid for millennia.

"Hiss..."

Coming back to her senses, Lyle instinctively touched her mouth, her hand coming away bloody. The scent in her mouth hadn't yet dissipated. The feeling of satiety made her entire body grow languid.

But her heart still started pounding wildly, uncontrollably.

"I killed him."

"No, I ate him."

When hunger reached its critical point, the vampire's appetite overrode reason.

She had drained Dawson dry.

The sound of birds chirping came from outside the window, and a brief blankness appeared in Lyle's mind.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself, when it actually happened, she still felt an indescribable sense of bewilderment and stiffness.

Absolutely no panic.

After all, no one who has just eaten their fill feels panic over a plate of raw marinated beef.

"Too impatient... should have waited a little longer..." Lyle shook her head vigorously, forcing reason and clarity to reclaim the high ground. "If I had tied his limbs and bit slowly, mouthful by mouthful, perhaps I could have obtained more useful information."

But it was enough for now.

Dawson had revealed quite a bit: a Paladin Commander named Vig would attend the funeral; besides being a vampire, she was also a murderer; there would be patrols on the streets...

[Main Storyline Quest Triggered]

As Lyle organized her thoughts, the familiar bluish-purple light screen suddenly appeared.

[The seemingly peaceful Central City is fraught with peril, where many ancestors met their end. But you are fortunate. You fed yourself amidst danger, enjoying a brief yet pleasurable meal. But stranger, this is far from enough. To survive the hunts of humankind and continue the vampire lineage, you need to do much more.

How about starting by creating a truly secure safe house?]

[Safe House Quest Requirements: Establish a stable base of operations. Direct sunlight exposure inside must not exceed 3 hours per day (Currently: 2.6h/3h). Blood storage must reach 3000 milliliters (Currently: 0/3000ml). Suspicion Level must not exceed 3 (Currently: 0/3).]

[Quest Reward: A relic from a Progenitor]

A Progenitor's relic? Lyle's breathing grew slightly rapid.

She knew the basics. Lyle had watched many vampire-themed movies and read novels, all of which without exception devoted much description to the Progenitors of the vampire race—those supremely powerful beings who could suppress all vampires by bloodline alone, the pinnacle of the species, possessing vast and profound power, immense resource reserves, and were utterly noble, elegant, and cold-blooded creatures.

Apart from the drawback of always dying early, they were highly desirable.

Even if the Progenitors of this world weren't exactly like those she had read about, the founding ancestors of a race must possess unimaginably good things.

The current Lyle desperately needed good things—weapons, equipment, supernatural abilities. Whatever it was, she wasn't picky as long as she got it!

Moreover, she had quests she could do! And quest rewards to obtain!

Did that mean her leveling conditions were also hidden within quests? Could her skill slots be expanded further?

This speculation caused Lyle's spirits to soar a second time.

The only problem now was the 3000ml blood storage requirement. As a doctor, she knew very well that this was roughly the total blood volume of an adult weighing around 60 kilograms.

Factoring in blood loss during the draining process and the generally smaller stature and weight of people in this era due to malnutrition—she would need at least one adult, plus another adult's leg or entire abdominal cavity.

This realization cooled her feverish head. Staring at the fresh male human on the ground, she felt she at least had a good start. More couldn't be rushed; safely getting through the funeral was the key.

Having reasoned this through, Lyle simply closed the light screen and focused on opening another one.

She was pleased to see the text had changed after she had drained a human.

[Basic Character Profile:

Name: Lyle Gangro

Alignment: Survivor

Random Identities: Widow of the late renowned Central City physician Harvey Thomas / One of the murderers of Harvey Thomas / Secret lover of Dawson Augusta

Fixed Identity: Vampire

Level: Neonate

Unlocked Skills: Keen Senses, Fast Movement, Extraordinary Strength, Blood Feast

Health: 100/100]

Satiety: 98/100 (You've never felt better.)

Good, so getting my fill really does improve my condition.

As long as she didn't fly into a bloodlust at any moment, she could find a way to survive in human society.

Moreover—

Lyle carefully examined the back of her hand, which had been burned by sunlight that morning. It was now smooth and unblemished, showing no trace of injury whatsoever.

So that's how it is.

Vampires. For our kind, blood is everything.

Her strength, health, and life all rely on human blood.

Indeed, choosing to stay was the right decision.

Lyle stood up, her gaze falling on the corpse on the floor.

...The top priority now was to dispose of this guy.

At that moment, she suddenly felt a wave of absurd, dark humor.

There were only three people in this house, and she had killed two of them.

If she had a list of "things that must never be known," it would undoubtedly be longer than her hair.

It was still daytime outside the curtains, so Lyle couldn't go out. She could only temporarily hide Dawson in some corner of the house to avoid any more uninvited guests.

However, hiding a whole body was difficult and too conspicuous. It would be much easier if she could dispose of it piece by piece.

Lyle stood up and began carefully searching the entire house.

On the mottled wall hung an antique chiming clock. At the very top, a line of small text read, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."

Below, in the very center, was written in large letters "September 12," which must be the date.

The clock face showed a familiar 24-hour cycle. The only difference was that the time here was preceded by the word "Holy."

For example, one Holy hour, eight Holy minutes, thirty-two Holy seconds.

They really are obsessed with slapping 'Holy' on everything.

Given that the funeral was on September 13, she had one day left.

Lyle didn't know whether to feel nervous or to curse in anger. Clearly, she had no time to dwell on either one.

She quickly sprang into action, spending some time carefully opening every door, searching the bedroom, kitchen, living room, and bathroom. She learned that she (or perhaps her late husband) was undoubtedly a devoted admirer of irises and that the two of them had been married for exactly three years.

She had no children, no servants. Only that carriage and the coachman were her property. Her deceased husband's annual income was roughly between 350 and 600 Holy Gold Coins.

This was a considerable income, especially since the account book showed the coachman's salary—a mere 6 Holy Silver Coins per month.

"Turns out I'm a wealthy vampire."

Lyle murmured, holding up the shiniest coin. It was a somewhat irregular round gold coin with a pattern depicting the Holy Father holding aloft the sun. There were quite a few in a locked cabinet in the bedroom, along with Holy Silver Coins and Holy Copper Coins.

From the doctor's account book, Lyle figured out that 1 Holy Gold Coin = 100 Holy Silver Coins = 10,000 Holy Copper Coins.

A bag of about 2 pounds of refined wheat cost 12 Holy copper coins, while a piece of beef of the same weight cost 80 Holy copper coins. These two were likely the main food for her household, and Dr. Harvey seemed quite well-off.

Additionally, she found many stacked bottles of wine and unopened spirits in the storeroom.

Lyle took a sip and immediately spat it out.

Not just the wine—she couldn't even swallow bread or cheese. Her vampire body rejected human food.

So it seemed all this wine was consumed by Dr. Harvey.

Lyle closed the storeroom door and then found a workshop next to the bedroom.

This was likely where Dr. Harvey treated his patients. The floor cracks were filled with dark brown stains of old blood, and the walls were hung with barbaric medical instruments—bloodletting knives, long-handled saws, and skull drills. The air was thick with the smell of blood.

But Lyle felt no urge now. A well-fed vampire, it seemed, could endure strong odors.

She soon discovered a thin leather-bound ledger on the desk, which meticulously recorded every patient Dr. Harvey had treated.

As she expected, bloodletting and amputations constituted the vast majority. The rest included lead-paint cosmetics, enema therapy, hypnotism using toxic vapors, and so on.

The last patient Harvey treated was a man named "Barrow Stephen." The poor fellow underwent three consecutive enemas just to cure his migraine.

Lyle was delighted by this discovery. "Is this heaven? My plan might just work after all."

If Dr. Harvey could treat patients in this manner—specifically, the bloodletting and amputations—then so could she.

No one would die from her treatments, and she could openly secure a stable food source.

More importantly, inside the workshop wall, hidden behind a painting in a concealed small hole, she found a locked small box.

After prying it open, Lyle discovered three or four tiny crystal bottles inside.

The bottles looked like the one Dawson had brought, the one that held Corruption Water. The liquid inside was also an unfamiliar color.

Fortunately, they had labels attached.

[Wound Cleansing Water], [Fever-Reducing Water], [Cough Water]. Lyle carefully deciphered the faded text and then straightened up.

She guessed these were some kind of fantasy-world medicine, possessing miraculous effects similar to the Corruption Water. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been hidden in such a secret place. The quantity and variety were pitifully limited, but having something was better than nothing.

Now, with a clinic and medicine available, as long as she could safely get through the funeral, she could temporarily gain a foothold in this world.

Her pleasure peaked when Lyle discovered the hidden basement.

A doctor needed a place to store certain patient remains; otherwise, simply carrying them out to throw away would cause panic. Her deceased husband had thought the same.

Beneath one of the floorboards near the kitchen, there was a self-dug independent space.

Here, Lyle found several basins that had once contained blood, their rims covered with thick, coagulated bloodstains.

In the corner were suspicious bits of flesh and fingernails. She also discovered a drawer filled with teeth and a black long apron that fit her perfectly.

Its color was mottled all over.

Perfect. An ideal hiding place.

Lyle put on the apron, found an old, unused bedsheet in the bedroom, and spread it flat on the basement floor.

Then, she single-handedly carried Dawson down to the basement and placed him on top of the bedsheet.

Lyle was a seasoned doctor, she knew exactly where to make the incision and how much force to apply to quickly and cleanly separate the "food" without dirtying the surroundings.

Huh?

Lyle touched the man's leg, a hint of greed flickering in her eyes.

It was soft and springy.

It seemed a newborn vampire's appetite wasn't large; even after a full meal, there was quite a bit left over.

True to her principle of not wasting food, she washed two basins, placed them under Dawson's legs, then tied Dawson up with rope and hung him from a roof beam with two wooden basins positioned below. She sliced open his ankles.

Warm blood slowly trickled into the wooden basins.

Soon, a translucent screen before her eyes clearly displayed the amount of stored blood.

[Stored Blood: 8ml/3000ml]

[Stored Blood: 12ml/3000ml]

...

Watching the blood stores gradually increase inexplicably calmed Lyle's nerves. She couldn't resist taking a couple more bites of her post-meal *snack* before turning back to the bedroom, her gaze sweeping over the carnage on the floor.

Dawson had struggled, knife in hand, leaving long scratches and splattered bloodstains on the floor.

That absolutely could not be discovered, it had to be cleaned up thoroughly.

Just as Lyle was huffing and puffing, scrubbing the floor, a carriage adorned with irises arrived at the small monastery.

"Father Anthony," the coachman said, jumping down from the carriage, sweating profusely, and bowing deeply to a robed elder. "As you requested, I've brought everything needed for Dr. Harvey Thomas's funeral."

"May the Holy Father bless you," Anthony replied with a kind smile, confirming once more, "Harvey's body is still at home?"

The coachman opened the carriage compartment, unknowingly stepping into a small weathered pit, and answered while unloading the items, "Yes, his wife hasn't moved it."

Anthony nodded in satisfaction.

The doctor had died two days ago. The moment he judged that the respectable doctor had returned to the Holy Father's embrace, he immediately notified Vig Thomas, who was far away at the front lines.

The Dove brought back Vig's message: Do not move my brother's body; I must see it for myself.

A Paladin Commander, a veteran still at the front, held a status far beyond that of an ordinary priest.

So, even in such weather, he had to ensure the Paladin Commander's orders were carried out precisely.

Soon, the coachman unloaded everything.

Before he left, the priest handed him a boutonniere made of vervain.

"You've worked hard today," the priest said kindly. "This is vervain soaked in holy water; it can burn vampires on contact. The vampires haven't been completely eradicated yet, and most Central City residents will receive one."

"Wear it well, my child. The Holy Father will protect you."