After his "meal," Lu Qiu surveyed the room: one more corpse, one less human—Sun Qi, the high school boy, had fled, no doubt horrified by the fangs he'd seen. Lu Qiu didn't mind the escape—yet. Despair Points had surged by 10,000 during the night, a testament to 10,000 souls broken by their first apocalyptic night.
Good progress… but loose ends annoyed him. Sun Qi was the only one who knew his true appearance.
"I'll hunt you later, once I've evolved," Lu Qiu murmured, spotting a trail of blood on the threshold—stupid mistake. Vampires tracked by scent, but blood held memories: fear, panic, the sharp tang of betrayal.
"System, how many Despair Points for bloodline evolution?"
Current bloodline: Lesser Vampire. Upgrade to Intermediate Vampire: 50,000 DP.
"And the benefits?" He sneered, "More strength? I'm not a werewolf."
Intermediate Vampires gain basic blood manipulation. Physical stats multiplied by 5.
"So I can use Heart Crush without limits?" The thought of squeezing hearts like overripe fruit thrilled him.
Blood manipulation skills must be purchased separately.
"Greedy bastard," he hissed, though the math appealed to him: 10,000 lives for a skill, 50,000 for evolution. Cheap, in the grand scheme of things.
But then, the question he'd avoided: "What about… resurrection? Bringing someone back to life?"
The System hesitated—a rare occurrence—before responding: This system deals in destruction. Resurrection violates its purpose. Cost: 10 billion DP.
10 billion. Lu Qiu's dead heart seemed to freeze. The world's population was just over 8 billion. Even if every human died in despair, it wouldn't be enough.
He touched the pendant around his neck, a vial of glowing dust—Jier's ashes, preserved in moonlight. "We're not limited to one world, are we?" he asked, voice soft.
No limit to worlds destroyed. No limit to Despair Points.
A grin split his face. 10 billion? Merely a number. He'd burn through worlds to gather it, each apocalypse a step closer to reclaiming what he'd lost.
"Good night," he whispered to the vial, tenderness stark against his earlier madness. Then, resolve hardening: "System, purchase Intermediate Vampire bloodline and (basic Heart Crush)."
Current DP: 70,500. Cost: 60,000 DP. Confirm?
"Confirmed."
Crimson blood materialized, swirling around him like a living storm, seeping into his skin. Pain ripped through him—bones cracking, muscles rewriting themselves—but he grinned through it. Three minutes later, the blood vanished, leaving only raw, thrumming power.
"Intermediate Vampire…" He flexed a hand, scarlet energy flickering at his fingertips. Across the room, Wang Hu's corpse jerked as his heart—already pulped—crushed again, ribs cracking under the invisible grip. Range had doubled to five meters; blood manipulation, though clumsy, hummed in his veins.
"Magic," he breathed, conjuring a tiny blood orb that dissolved into a puddle. Not perfect, but a start. True Blood Lords could drain a city with a wave, turning streets into rivers of gore. I'll get there, he vowed.
He ignored the assault rifle—mundane weapons meant nothing now. Instead, he eyed the table, recalling Jier's pretend enjoyment of red dates, those bitter fruits she'd choked down to spare his feelings.
"System, "
Five DP. The dates materialized, plump and crimson. He popped one in his mouth, gagging at the mud-like taste. Silly girl. You didn't have to lie.
With a snarl, he smashed a box of military rations onto the table, (crushing) the dates. "Pathetic things."
At the door, he knelt, pressing a finger to Sun Qi's bloodstain. Emotions flooded him: terror, desperation, the frantic urge to survive.
"So you made it out," he said, rising, "Lucky for you… for now."
Moonlight sliced through the window, casting his shadow long and predatory over the ruined city. Somewhere, a zombie howled, but Lu Qiu smiled—the hunt had begun, and he was no longer the prey.
"Run, humans," he whispered, stepping into the night, "Run as fast as you can."
But they couldn't. Not from him. Not from the despair he carried, the hope that drove him, the endless hunger for a power that would rewrite reality itself.
The vial around his neck glimmered, as if Jier's ashes approved.
And in the distance, the first rays of dawn began to creep over the horizon—a sunrise for a world that would soon know no more tomorrows.