Antony's mind reeled, a whirlwind of disbelief and a burgeoning sense of dread. He stood there, transfixed, staring at the figure before him—Lucien Byron, the very protagonist of the game he had spent countless hours immersed in. The one destined to rise from the depths of the orphanage, to challenge and ultimately defeat the ominous Master they had just encountered. Yet, a jarring realization, sharp and undeniable, pierced through his lingering confusion.
"I was sitting in front of the ice block, just like the protagonist," he muttered, his voice barely audible, a stark contrast to the chaotic symphony of his thoughts. "So why don't I feel the cold? Why do I still have sensation in my legs while he's shivering, with cold vapor emanating from him, making his eyes close?" The questions tumbled out, a desperate attempt to reconcile the bizarre reality with the game's established lore. As if in response to his unspoken query, a translucent screen, shimmering with an ethereal glow, materialized directly before his eyes, its presence both startling and strangely familiar.
```
WELCOME TO THE SYSTEM OF VAMPIRES
```
"System of Vampires?" Antony questioned, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The words resonated with a profound sense of destiny, yet also with an unsettling finality. This wasn't just a game; it was *the* game, and he was inexplicably at its center.
```
YES, NOW YOU ARE INSIDE A GAME, AND YOU HAVE FULFILLED THE FIRST QUEST ASSIGNED TO YOU. YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE QUEST AND ARE NOW ENTERING THE WORLD OF VAMPIRES.
```
"Quest? What quest? I didn't do anything," Antony retorted, his confusion momentarily eclipsing the awe. He racked his brain, searching for any memory of a task, a mission, anything that would explain this sudden pronouncement. But there was nothing, only the hazy recollection of his collapse.
```
THE EMPOWERMENT QUEST: UNLEASHING THE PROTAGONIST'S MIGHT HAS BEEN COMPLETED.
```
"Protagonist's might? I'm the protagonist? No, the protagonist is right in front of me. He's the protagonist of this game, the almighty vampire who rules the world," Antony argued, gesturing vaguely towards Lucien. The idea was preposterous. Lucien was the hero, the destined one. He was just… Antony.
```
THE PROTAGONIST HAS BEEN CHANGED.
```
The stark, unambiguous message hung in the air, a digital decree that shattered his preconceived notions. He was the protagonist now. The weight of that realization settled upon him, heavy and unexpected. His mind raced, trying to process the implications. If he was the protagonist, then what about Lucien? And what did this mean for the game itself?
```
THE PROTAGONIST IGNITES THEIR FIRE ELEMENT.
```
"Fire element? Me? Isn't it the special power of Lucien, who survived all the torture inflicted by the Master?" Antony's voice was a mix of disbelief and a dawning understanding. "How did I gain this power? So that's why I couldn't feel the cold; the fire element inside me has been keeping me warm and slowly melting the snow block." The pieces began to click into place, forming a coherent, albeit terrifying, picture. The inexplicable warmth, the lack of sensation in his legs – it was all a consequence of this newfound power, a power that was supposed to belong to someone else.
```
THE PROTAGONIST HAS BEEN CHANGED, ALONG WITH THEIR ELEMENT AND THE STORYLINE OF THE GAME. BEST OF LUCK FOR THE FUTURE EVENTS.
```
The game's message, a cryptic farewell, vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. But before Antony could fully process its implications, another screen materialized, more detailed and personal than the last. It was his character board, a digital reflection of his current state within this new, terrifying reality.
```
CHARACTER BOARD
- HP: 300/500
- LEVEL: 1
- ELEMENT: FIRE
- POWER: NULL
- WEAPON: WOODEN SWORD
```
"So this is the character board," he muttered, his gaze tracing the unfamiliar statistics. Level 1. A wooden sword. It was a far cry from the powerful vampire protagonist he had envisioned, the one he had spent so much time controlling in his previous life. The irony was not lost on him. He had always sought to be the hero, and now, thrust into this bizarre reality, he was starting from the very bottom.
"Adrian, are you even listening to me?" Lucien's voice, laced with a hint of impatience, broke through Antony's contemplation. He had almost forgotten Lucien was there, a silent observer to his internal struggle.
"Yes, yes, I'm listening. I will go and apologize to the Master," Antony said, his words a hasty dismissal as he gently, but firmly, pushed Lucien out of the cramped room. He needed a moment, a breath, to process the overwhelming influx of information. As Lucien exited, a shrill, insistent bell began to ring, its piercing sound echoing through the corridors, making it unbearable to concentrate.
"The food time has started. Whoever needs a supply of food, be in the room. The food will be reached there," an automated announcement blared, its metallic voice devoid of emotion. The words, however, had an immediate and profound effect on Antony. A strange, unfamiliar sensation stirred within him, a deep, gnawing hunger that resonated with a primal instinct he had never known. His stomach rumbled, a hollow echo of the emptiness that now consumed him.
As he stood straight in front of the door, an involuntary salivation began, his mouth watering with an intensity that shocked him. His eyes, drawn by an unseen force, darted to the clock placed on the left side wall. Eight o'clock at night. The time itself seemed to trigger something within him, a deep-seated craving that intensified with each passing second.
As his gaze shifted from the clock, a package slid through the door's drawer, a dark, ominous presence. It was just a bundle of blood, bound by thin, almost invisible strings. The outer side of the package was smeared with crimson, making it look messy, almost grotesque. Yet, despite the unsettling appearance, Antony found himself drawn to it, his hunger a relentless tide pulling him closer.
He moved forward, his steps almost involuntary, and picked up the blood package. The moment his fingers brushed against its cool, slick surface, his salivation became uncontrollable, a torrent of anticipation. He realized, with a chilling clarity, how every person in this twisted game had a rule: food arrived at eight o'clock at night, and then again after twenty-four hours. This cruel cycle, this enforced hunger, was designed to make the inhabitants salivate, to crave, to become utterly dependent.
At first, a flicker of reluctance, a vestige of his former self, tried to assert itself. The idea of consuming blood, raw and visceral, repulsed him. But the hunger, a monstrous entity now fully awakened within him, grew with an unbearable intensity. It clawed at his insides, demanding satisfaction, overriding all reason, all revulsion. He couldn't control himself. With a desperate, almost animalistic urge, he tore open the package and brought it to his lips, sucking on it with a ferocity that surprised even himself. As the warm, metallic liquid filled his mouth, a profound transformation began. His fangs, once merely a concept, elongated, sharpening into needle-like points. His eyes, reflecting the dim light of the room, turned a deep, unsettling blood-red. A surge of raw, untamed strength coursed through his veins, making his muscles taut, his grip iron-like. The blood package, unable to withstand the sudden surge of power, splattered against the wall, its crimson contents painting a grotesque tableau.
As the blood splattered, a new, even more disturbing instinct took hold. He couldn't stop himself. His tongue, now unnaturally long and agile, darted out, licking the walls clean, consuming every single drop of the spilled blood. He moved with a predatory grace, a monstrous hunger driving his every action, leaving no trace of the crimson feast.
"So I really have become a vampire in this game?" Antony whispered, the words a chilling confirmation of his new reality. The question was rhetorical, a desperate attempt to vocalize the profound shift within him.
```
THE CRIMSON INITIATION: PROTAGONIST'S FIRST TASTE OF BLOOD HAS BEEN FINISHED.
```
"I accidentally finished another small task of which I'm unaware," Antony mumbled, a wry, self-deprecating humor in his voice. He was completing quests without even trying, a testament to the game's insidious design. Once again, he checked his character board, his gaze drawn to the updated statistics. His EXP had increased to 500/500, a clear indication of his progress.
"Is this because of the consumption of the blood?" he muttered, looking at the torn package, its remnants a stark reminder of his primal act. The answer was obvious, yet he sought confirmation, a way to rationalize the monstrous transformation he was undergoing.
Knock, knock.
The sudden sound, sharp and insistent, startled him. He had been so engrossed in his own transformation, his own hunger, that he had lost track of time, of the outside world. "Who is it?" Antony responded, his voice still a little hoarse from the recent consumption.
"Adrian, don't be so cocky! The Master has called for you! Come out right now and go to him this instant," a gruff voice, arrogant and dismissive, barked from the other side of the door. The door, as if on cue, opened on its own, revealing a burly guard, his face a mask of disdain.
"I will be there!" Antony declared, his voice firm, a newfound confidence in his tone. He was the protagonist now, and he would face whatever challenges came his way.
"The Master won't be waiting for you. You're not that important," the guard sneered, his words dripping with contempt. He then roughly pushed Antony forward, propelling him towards the Master's room. "Walk fast!" he urged, pushing him once again, a cruel smile playing on his lips. As Antony stumbled forward, a warning flashed across his vision, a stark reminder of his precarious situation.
```
HP LEVEL IS DECREASING!
```
```
WARNING! THE HP LEVEL IS DECREASING! PREVENT NOT LOSING YOUR LIFE.
```
"Stop!" Antony shouted, his voice echoing through the corridor, making the guard halt abruptly. The sudden command, imbued with an unexpected authority, caught the guard off guard.
"What?" the man looked at him, glaring, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
"I'm going to meet the Master on my own. I will ask for forgiveness for what I have done," Antony said, his words a calculated gamble. He needed to stop the constant pushing, the relentless drain on his HP. The warning, a stark reminder of his mortality, had shaken him. He couldn't afford to lose any more health, not in this unfamiliar and dangerous world.
"Now the health is not decreasing. The warning also stopped, but my health is not up to the mark. It has dropped to 150. If another accident happens, my game will be over. No, I can't let it be like this. Losing my life means losing my life," he muttered to himself, the grim reality of his situation settling upon him. This wasn't just a game anymore; it was his life. He walked toward the Master's cabin, his steps resolute, a plan already forming in his mind.
"Master, it's Adrian!" he knocked on the door, his voice clear and steady, and waited for permission to enter.
"Come in!" a voice, deep and authoritative, granted him permission, allowing him to step into the dimly lit room. The Master sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on Antony, a predatory glint in their depths. But it wasn't the Master that truly captured Antony's attention. Lying on a bed in the corner of the room was a child, pale and frail, connected to a syringe, a tube extending from it into the Master's hands. A chilling realization dawned on Antony; the Master was draining the child's blood.
"What are you staring at? Answer me! Have you not accepted your mistake yet?" the Master demanded, rising from his seat, his anger palpable, his gaze piercing.
"No, Master, I have fully acknowledged my mistake. That's why I've come here to ask for your forgiveness," Antony said, and he knelt down, a show of submission. But his eyes, despite his feigned humility, remained fixed on the vulnerable child on the bed. A new kind of hunger, more insidious than the last, stirred within him.
"Good!" the Master praised, a sly smile spreading across his lips. But the smile vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a look of suspicion. "You're still hungry?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl. Antony's saliva, despite his efforts to control it, dripped down his lips, a betraying sign of his awakened vampiric instincts.
"Do you want to eat the child?" The Master's voice was a taunt, a cruel test. "Do you want to suck every drop of his blood? Are you turning into a real vampire, Adrian?" The questions were designed to provoke, to push him to the brink. Antony, his mind consumed by the intoxicating scent of blood, found himself unable to answer.
"Blood!" he muttered, a primal whisper escaping his lips. "Blood! I want blood!" The hunger was overwhelming, a relentless tide that threatened to consume him entirely.
"If you want to drink blood, we can always make a trade, Adrian. You can have the child, and I can have your power. What do you say? A nice trading idea, right?" the Master said, moving his face closer to Antony's, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intelligence. He was testing him, offering a Faustian bargain.
"So, tell me, what is your power? I want your power," he pressed, his voice a seductive whisper.
"I… I…" Antony stammered, his mind racing. He had a power, the Fire Element, but he couldn't reveal it, not yet. He needed to play this carefully, to survive.
"You? Speak!" the Master demanded, his patience wearing thin.
"I'm sorry, Master, for laying my eyes on your prey. I now take my leave. It was a tempting offer, but I don't have powers. I apologize for making you lose so much of your time," Antony said, his voice carefully neutral, a mask of humility. He rose and walked away from the room, his back to the Master, a silent prayer that his deception would hold. As he stepped outside, the hunger, momentarily suppressed, returned with a vengeance. With a desperate, almost unconscious act, he bit his own arm, letting the blood flow, surviving on his own, a grim testament to his new reality.
"I have to do something about this hunger," he muttered, glaring back at the room, a silent vow forming in his mind. He would find a way to control this monstrous craving, to survive in this brutal world.
As Antony moved through the sprawling, labyrinthine facility, he observed the three floors outlined on the gaming screen that still occasionally flickered into his vision. The ground floor, he noted, served as the reception area, a grim gateway where children entered the organization and registered their names. Rooms, small and uniform, surrounded this central space, exclusively allocated to the newly arrived, forcing them to adapt to its cramped confines.
The first floor, a place of ominous significance, was exclusively designated for the Master. According to the game's information, the Master and his subordinates resided here, emerging every night to collect the blood of children who were deemed no longer useful to the organization. A chilling thought, a stark reminder of the brutal reality he now inhabited.
The second floor, however, remained shrouded in mystery, a blank space in the game's provided information. No details, no descriptions, just an unsettling void. Antony pondered aloud, his voice a low murmur in the deserted corridor, "Should I consider exploring the second floor? There might be something of significance." The unknown beckoned, a dangerous allure.
"Adrian!" Lucien's voice, sharp and urgent, called from behind him, startling Antony from his thoughts. He turned, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes.
"Lucien? What brings you here?" Antony asked, his tone carefully neutral. He remembered the system's warning about changed behavior, the subtle cues that had made him doubt Lucien's sincerity.
"I was concerned about you. I thought you might run into trouble due to the magic orb," Lucien explained, his words a practiced performance of concern. But Antony wasn't fooled.
"I'm fine, but I'm curious. How did you know about the magic orb? I don't recall getting away without being caught," Antony began, his voice hardening with each word. The pieces of Lucien's deception were slowly falling into place. The system, as if sensing his growing suspicion, chimed in with a timely confirmation.
```
SOME CHANGED BEHAVIOR HAS BEEN DETECTED.
```
"As I suspected," Antony muttered, a grim satisfaction in his voice. Lucien's facade was crumbling.
Lucien stammered, his composure faltering, "I, I accidentally saw you." His eyes darted nervously, unable to meet Antony's steady gaze.
Antony pressed on, his voice a cold, unwavering blade. "Accidentally saw me? How is that possible? Catching me stealing the magical orb is nearly impossible." He knew the facility's layout, security measures. Lucien's story didn't add up.
Antony continued, his voice rising with each accusation, "The first floor is off-limits to kids like us unless we receive the green signal from the Master. So how did you see me when you haven't obtained permission?" The question hung in the air, a damning indictment.
Antony's accusation made Lucien turn pale, his face draining of color. He hesitated, then, with a desperate attempt to deflect, he blurted out, "Don't tell me you had intended to steal the magic orb, and I got in your way, so you betrayed me?" The accusation was a desperate, transparent attempt to shift the blame.
Antony raised his voice, a raw, unadulterated anger now simmering beneath his controlled exterior. "Adrian, I'm your friend. How can you accuse me of such a thing?" Lucien cried, his voice feigning hurt, a pathetic attempt to regain Antony's trust. But the system, an impartial judge, delivered its verdict.
```
TRUTH DETECTION FAILED. FALSE DETECTED.
```
Antony retorted, his voice cold and cutting, "Friend? A true friend wouldn't have informed the Master that I stole the magic orb." The betrayal stung, a bitter taste in his mouth. He had been so confused, so vulnerable, and Lucien had exploited it.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Antony turned and headed toward his room, leaving Lucien to stew in his own deceit. But his path was blocked by the same burly man who had pushed him earlier, the guard who had delighted in his misery. The man, a smirk plastered across his face, taunted him.
"Ha ha, your friend sold you out." His words were a cruel confirmation of Antony's suspicions.
Antony responded, his voice calm, almost detached, "Ha ha, he was never my friend. Maybe I should inform the Master that one of his own subordinates didn't provide the complete truth." The implication hung heavy in the air, a veiled threat that sent a flicker of fear into the guard's eyes.
The man's teeth clenched, his smirk vanishing, replaced by a scowl. Antony, seeing his reaction, added, "I'm not threatening you. I'm merely stating the truth." He held the guard's gaze, a silent challenge in his eyes. He was no longer the confused, helpless gamer. He was Adrian Corleon, the new protagonist, and he was learning to play this game.
Antony smirked as he walked away, leaving the fuming guard in his wake. He had won this small battle, a minor victory in a war he was only just beginning to understand. As he reached the relative safety of his room, a new thought, a strategic move, formed in his mind.
"System, please provide me with a comprehensive character profile of the previous protagonist," Antony requested, his voice clear and commanding. He needed information, knowledge to navigate this treacherous landscape. The system, ever obedient, responded instantly.
```
Understood.
```
A detailed character profile of the previous protagonist, Lucien Byron, materialized before him, a stark contrast to the current, monstrous reality of the character.
```
LUCIEN BYRON
Age: Unknown
Power: Unknown
Motive: Unknown
Level: 20
Experience (EXP): 2000
Weapon: Catalyst
```
Antony studied the profile, a new layer of understanding settling upon him. Lucien Byron, the original protagonist, was Level 20, a powerful figure. This explained the discrepancy in the outline, the reason why Lucien was so strong. But it also raised more questions. Why had the protagonist been changed? What was the true nature of this game, and what role did he, Antony Cole, now Adrian Corleon, truly play in it? The answers, he knew, would come, but for now, he had to survive, to adapt, and to learn the rules of this deadly new reality. The game had just begun, and he was ready to play.