A new day had begun in the city that never slept.
Mario sat in Garcia's car with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, blowing smoke out the cracked window. His clothes still smelled like gunpowder and blood from the night's work.
"Alright, boys," he said, flicking ash onto the street. "Take me to Central Park. These bloodsucking bastards won't come out during daylight hours."
The ordinary vampires in the Marvel universe still couldn't handle direct sunlight, a weakness he fully intended to exploit. During the day, they'd retreat to their dark corners like the cockroaches they were.
After spending the entire night hunting, they'd only managed to take down seven vampires. Far fewer than he had hoped for, but it was a start.
The three thugs perked up when they heard his words. They hadn't slept all night, and while their spirits were still high from the adrenaline, exhaustion was starting to creep into their bones. All they wanted now was to go home and crash.
Mario took a final drag from his cigarette and flicked the butt out the window. The car pulled onto the road toward Central Park, weaving through early morning delivery trucks and commuters heading to work.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up at the park entrance. Garcia turned around in his seat.
"We coming back tonight, Mario?"
The three gang members had already gotten a taste of the benefits. In one night, they'd helped take down six vampires and walked away with more cash than they usually saw in a month of street-level crime. The jewelry alone from their victims would keep them comfortable for weeks.
Mario glanced at Garcia and smiled. "Of course. Take care of the loot from last night, then pick me up here after dark. Oh, and find a way to get me a burner phone."
He stepped out onto the sidewalk. The morning air felt clean compared to the stuffy car. Garcia and his crew took off right away, ready to sell their stolen goods and get some sleep.
The sun was just coming up over Central Park. he could hear birds making noise in the trees. He looked at the grass, still wet with morning dew. If it wasn't so damp, he would've crashed right there on the spot.
He hadn't slept all night, but ever since his body had changed, physical exhaustion seemed like a distant memory. He pulled a piece of bread from his inventory and ate it slowly, savoring the simple taste of wheat.
"Bit of a disappointment," he muttered between bites. "No matter what kind of bread I eat, once it's in my inventory it all becomes plain white bread. At least it tastes decent and stacks neatly."
After filling up his hunger bar, he headed deeper into the forest toward his underground base. As he walked, he noticed the thick grass growing everywhere around him.
Wonder if breaking grass drops seeds. If it does, I'll never have to worry about food again.
He already had over eleven hundred dollars on him, but he had been raised to live frugally. Every dollar had to count, especially when he was building up his vampire hunting operation from scratch.
He raised his fist and punched a patch of grass. Within a square meter, the tall blades instantly shrank down to just a few centimeters, as if they'd been mowed clean by an invisible lawnmower.
"Huh... no seeds dropped."
He continued clearing the weeds around him. Soon, a wide, flat patch of ground had been cleared. Just as he'd hoped, destroying the wild grass did indeed drop seeds. After clearing several hundred square meters, he'd gotten a full stack of wheat seeds.
He followed his mental map deeper into the forest until he found his base entrance. The grass block marking the spot was a different color from the grass around it, which pissed him off a bit.
"The color difference really stands out."
The dirt blocks he'd placed yesterday had grown into grass blocks overnight, but the bright green patches clashed awkwardly against the surrounding darker grass. Anyone with half a brain would notice the inconsistency.
After a moment, he took out his shovel and dug up the grass block, revealing the tunnel entrance below. He jumped down and quickly sealed the opening behind him.
"Today I'll expand the base, plant some wheat, and figure out a better entrance later. Worst case scenario, I'll dig a tunnel connecting to the city sewers."
After all, the New York sewer system already had plenty of residents, one more wouldn't make much difference.
Mario first chopped down the fully grown oak tree in his underground grove and expanded the growing area. With more trees, he'd never have to worry about running short on wood for crafting or fuel.
From his inventory, he pulled out an I-beam he'd "acquired" while passing a construction site earlier. Unfortunately, it couldn't be directly converted into iron ingots. But since it was already in his possession, there was no point in throwing it away.
"Iron ingots are becoming a real problem," he muttered, scratching his head. "Do I really need to commission steel from a foundry?"
Actually buying raw iron would be expensive. His earnings from vampire hunting, while pretty good for street crime, were still modest compared to legitimate business operations.
That's when he heard footsteps echoing through his underground base.
He quickly spun around and spotted a figure at the edge of his grove, a vampire hunter NPC wandering around aimlessly. The character wore a black tailcoat topped with a stylish hat, a dramatic cape flowing behind him. Despite the impressive outfit, he was still clearly a blocky, pixelated figure from the Minecraft mod.
Seeing the NPC, his initial tension immediately transformed into excitement. He ran forward and looked up at the vampire hunter, who stood about six feet tall.
"A vampire hunter spawn! Finally, I can level up my Hunter class!"
Up to level five, upgrading the Hunter profession was straightforward: find a vampire hunter NPC in the wild, talk to them, and submit whatever item they requested. That would raise his profession level, grant skill points, and unlock new abilities.
He opened the interaction window and saw a single item slot with text above it:
[For training, please submit 1 vial of Vampire Blood]
Without hesitation, he pulled a vial of Vampire Blood from his inventory and placed it in the slot. After confirming the submission, the text immediately changed:
[For advanced training, please submit 5 vials of Vampire Blood]
He checked his inventory, only two vials of Vampire Blood remained. He sighed in frustration. Vampire Blood only had a chance to drop when a vampire was killed specifically with a wooden stake. It wasn't guaranteed, and the drop rate seemed inconsistent. Last night he'd killed seven vampires but only gotten three vials total.
"I'll need to find a vampire nest," he said to himself. "Seven individual kills won't cut it if I want to level up efficiently."
Since he couldn't upgrade his class yet, he decided to focus on base expansion first, then head out to see what materials could be converted into iron ingots.
Over the next hour, his underground home underwent a complete transformation. What had once been a cramped, dark basement was now a spacious two-level layout with proper lighting from torches. The gloomy atmosphere was completely gone.
He stepped back, nodding in satisfaction.
"Next priority: buy some actual furniture. Specifically a bed, sitting on the ground every day is getting old fast."
He climbed up the ladder, listened carefully for any sounds above, and hearing nothing unusual, dug out the grass block covering the tunnel entrance. After hopping out and sealing the opening behind him, he headed toward the edge of Central Park.
"I really need to change this exit. This routine is getting tedious as hell."
---
Coming out of the overpriced furniture store in Midtown, Mario's face was twisted in disgust as he muttered under his breath.
"Two thousand dollars for a fucking bed? You're making money faster than I could by robbing people!"
Originally, he had thought his thousand-plus dollars would be enough to buy some basic furniture. But after stepping into the store, he realized it was basically legalized robbery, they were stealing money and throwing in some furniture as an afterthought.
For a moment, he couldn't decide whether vampires or capitalists deserved his stake first. Different species, sure, but their hearts were the same shade of black.
Walking along the busy street, Mario soon found himself in the chaos of Times Square. Giant billboards, luxury shops, and bustling crowds of tourists assaulted his senses from every direction.
"Madonna mia!" he exclaimed.
He'd never experienced this level of urban spectacle, hell, he'd never even been to Vegas or Miami, let alone traveled internationally.
It was summer, and the "scenery" around Times Square was striking. Women in minimal clothing posed for photos while street performers competed for attention and tip money.
"Christ, that woman's asking for trouble," he observed as a passing tourist's summer dress caught an updraft from a subway grate. "America really doesn't believe in modesty, does it?"
Back home, family and church rules were always in your face. Here? Nobody cared. No obligations, no pressure, no old habits to keep you tied down. Just raw capitalism and personal freedom taken to their extremes.
Mario found an empty bench and sat down, pulling out a bottle of milk left over from the previous night. As he drank, his senses suddenly picked up something familiar.
That distinctive, nauseating scent of vampire.
What the hell? A vampire sunbathing in broad daylight?
Following the smell, he spotted a young black man whose stealth skills were clearly maxed out. The guy was dressed entirely in black, leather coat, dark pants, combat boots, with wraparound sunglasses covering his eyes. If it were nighttime, he could stand in the shadows and be completely invisible unless he spoke.
The moment Mario saw him, he immediately stood up.
Blade!
Sometimes the best opportunities came when you weren't actively looking for them.
Eric Brooks, better known as Blade, was a legend in vampire hunting circles. His mother had been bitten by the vampire Deacon Frost while pregnant, dying after giving birth and leaving her son with a unique half-vampire, half-human bloodline. When he grew up, he'd become the most effective vampire hunter in existence.
In Mario's mind, the equation was simple: Blade = infinite vampires = infinite Vampire Blood = massive wealth and unlimited upgrade materials.
Not caring whether his approach might seem suspicious, he quickly walked over to the legendary hunter.
"Hey there, handsome!"
At his words, a dozen overly confident men on the street turned their heads simultaneously. He ignored them completely and approached Blade directly.
"I'd like to get to know you and discuss those monsters we both hate."
Behind his sunglasses, Blade's eyes narrowed as he sized Mario up. This man clearly knew something about him, but the question was how, and more importantly, what he wanted.
"Who are you?"
The fact that Blade was willing to talk was a good sign. Mario smiled slightly and gestured at the crowds around them.
"Not the best place for this kind of conversation. How about we find a coffee shop?"
The tourists and street vendors around them were already starting to stare, drawn by the unusual pairing and Mario's confident approach. Seeing this, Blade nodded slightly. His curiosity was piqued, he wanted to know exactly what this stranger was after.
America might lack many things, but it certainly wasn't short on coffee shops. Within minutes, they'd found a nearby Starbucks and settled into a relatively secluded corner booth.
"Name's Mario," he said, extending his hand across the table. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Eric Brooks." Blade's handshake was firm and brief.
After giving his name, Blade settled back into the booth and waited for Mario's explanation. He could already sense that this wasn't a casual encounter, the Italian stranger clearly wanted something from him.
Mario looked at Blade seriously, drummed his fingers lightly on the table, and organized his thoughts before speaking.
"I need information about those monsters' hideouts. I want to join you in wiping them out."
"Why?" In Blade's perception, Mario was just an ordinary human – nothing obviously unusual about him at all.
As for how Mario knew about his identity, that didn't surprise him. Anyone who understood the vampire threat would eventually learn about him through underground networks or survivor testimony.
Hearing Blade's question, Mario's casual expression faded. He stared directly at the legendary hunter.
"Why? You'll never know what it feels like to be strung up in a processing facility like a pig waiting for slaughter. From that moment on, I made myself a promise: every vampire must die. No matter where they hide, no matter who they think they are."
Even though Mario was saying this to Blade's face, and Blade himself was technically half-vampire, the hunter didn't get angry at all. On the contrary, he respected Mario's conviction. But he was still curious about one detail.
"How did you escape?"
In Blade's experience, no one had ever managed to break free from a vampire "slaughterhouse" on their own.
Mario's fingers continued drumming.
"I didn't escape. The me sitting here now is nothing more than a hunter returned from hell, a vampire hunter who crawled back from death itself."
"This is our first meeting. I don't expect you to trust me immediately, that's completely normal. I'm not asking you to risk your life for me. Just tell me where they are. That's enough."
Blade fell silent, studying Mario's face.
Mario really wanted to light up a cigarette, but out of basic courtesy, he restrained himself. At that moment, the barista brought over two cups of coffee and set them on the table.
He picked up his cup and took a small sip, then immediately his face twisted. The bitterness was overwhelming. Grabbing the sugar dispenser, he dumped a large amount into his coffee, ignoring the faint smile playing at the corners of Blade's mouth.
Perhaps it was this unfiltered authenticity that convinced him, but Blade removed his sunglasses, set them on the table, and looked directly at Mario with eyes.
"Alright. As it happens, I was just about to hit one of their hideouts tonight."
"Thanks. But could I ask one favor?" Mario leaned forward slightly. "If there aren't too many of them... could you let me handle the killing?"
This was crucial. If a vampire wasn't killed specifically with a wooden stake, it wouldn't drop Vampire Blood, which made leveling up nearly impossible. He needed to personally execute every vampire they encountered to maximize his resource drops.
Level 1 required five bottles, Level 2 needed ten, Level 3 required fifteen bottles, and Level 4 demanded twenty. Even with a fifty percent drop rate, that meant at least a hundred confirmed kills, and that wasn't counting the "training fees" he had to pay to the hunter NPCs before each upgrade.
When you break it down like that, there really aren't enough vampires to go around.