Oban staggered forward, his body trembling. The last thing he remembered was the blinding pain of blood spilling from his veins and the System's cold, mechanical voice echoing in his mind.
Now, when his vision cleared, he found himself standing in the middle of a street.
A street that shouldn't exist.
The buildings towered like dark monoliths, their stone walls carved with strange sigils that pulsed faintly under the light of a blood red moon. Iron lampposts flickered with dim, unnatural fire, and narrow alleys stretched like veins into the city's of shadows.
Oban turned in slow disbelief. "Where… where the hell am I?"
A few carriages rumbled past, drawn not by horses but by creatures with leathery wings and glowing eyes. People walked the streets, their clothing old-fashioned, like something from the eighteenth century. Capes, corsets, tall boots, lace gloves—yet every face carried a strange sharpness, as though the city itself had etched secrets into their bones.
And then came the answer he dreaded.
He stopped a man passing by, an older gentleman with a crooked cane. "Excuse me… where am I? Which country is this?"
The man gave him a strange look, as if confused by the very question. "You must be a traveler. This is Transylvania, of course. Where else would you be?"
Oban's heart lurched. Transylvania. A country that didn't exist. Not in his time. Not in his world.
Before he could speak again, the System chimed inside his head:
[System Initialization Complete.][Host successfully bound: Oban.][Timeline confirmed: Year 2083 A.D.][Dimensional designation: Dark Continent.]
Sixty-five years after his supposed death.
Oban staggered back, gripping his head. No… this isn't possible. I died. I should be gone.
But his heart was silent in his chest, and yet he was alive. His senses sharper. His sight clearer. His hearing able to pick out conversations half a street away. He could even hear the steady, rhythmic thrum of blood in the veins of the man who had just walked past.
And the sound made his throat burn.
Hunger
The fire in his throat grew stronger. His stomach twisted as though he hadn't eaten in weeks. His hands trembled, and when he looked down, he noticed his nails had grown into sharp black claws.
"No… no, this can't be happening."
He stumbled into a narrow alley, gripping the wall for support. His body felt both heavy and light, his muscles filled with unnatural strength yet quivering from starvation.
The System's voice returned:
[Warning: Host's vitality unstable.][Requirement: Consume blood within 2 hours or face system collapse.]
Oban's eyes widened. "Blood?"
He turned, and for a moment his reflection stared back at him from a broken shard of glass on the ground. Pale skin, glowing crimson eyes, sharp fangs pressing against his lips.
His knees weakened. "I… I'm a monster…"
But the hunger didn't care.
A sudden sound reached him—the faint whimper of a child deeper in the alley. He turned and saw a small girl clutching a basket, no older than ten. Her leg was bleeding from a cut, fresh drops of crimson staining the stone.
The scent hit him like lightning. His fangs ached. His throat screamed. His feet moved before he realized it.
No. Stop. Stop!
He slammed his clawed hands into the wall beside him, cracking stone as he fought the urge. The girl glanced up, startled, her violet eyes wide with fear. She turned and ran, basket clattering to the ground.
Oban fell to his knees, trembling violently.
[System Warning: Host's survival at risk.][New Quest generated.]
Quest: The First HuntObjective: Feed and stabilize your new body.Reward: Unlock basic Vampire skills.Failure: System collapse. Permanent death.
His breath shook. I have to drink blood… or I'll die again.
But could he bring himself to kill?
The First Kill
The sound of boots echoed at the mouth of the alley. A group of men appeared, clad in long coats and carrying silver blades. Their chests bore a crimson insignia—a burning cross.
"Inquisitors," one of them spat. "Another spawn."
Their leader's eyes glowed faintly under his hood. He raised his blade. "Kill it before it grows."
Oban's instincts screamed. He didn't know why, but his body recognized them—hunters of his kind.
The first rushed him, silver flashing. Oban tried to dodge, but his movements were sluggish. The blade sliced across his shoulder, searing his flesh with unnatural heat. He roared in pain.
Another came from the side. Pure desperation drove him. His claws lashed out, sinking deep into the man's throat. Warmth splashed across his hand. The Inquisitor gurgled, eyes wide, before collapsing.
The scent of blood overwhelmed him. Oban's body moved on instinct. He dropped to his knees, sinking his fangs into the wound.
The taste was fire and lightning and life itself. His veins burned, his heart thundered to life, his wounds knitting before his eyes. Strength flooded his muscles, his vision sharpened until every detail of the world glowed with terrifying clarity.
The System chimed:
[Quest Complete: The First Hunt.][Reward: Skill unlocked – Blood Sense.]Blood Sense (Passive): Detect living beings within 100 meters by sensing their blood flow.
Oban's head snapped up. He could hear them all. Every heartbeat. Every breath. Every drop of blood in their veins.
The remaining Inquisitors hesitated, fear flickering across their faces. "He's awakened—!"
Oban roared, launching forward with inhuman speed. His claws tore through one, then another, blood painting the alley red. For the first time, he felt alive.
When silence fell, only corpses surrounded him.
Aftermath
Oban staggered back, panting. His claws dripped red, his lips stained. A mirror shard showed his reflection again—crimson eyes blazing, fangs bared.
He had survived. But at what cost?
The System's voice was calm, almost mocking:
[Congratulations, Host.][You are no longer prey. You are predator.]
Oban collapsed against the wall, hands trembling. The fire in his throat was gone, replaced by a terrifying satisfaction.
"I… killed them. I…" His voice broke. "Am I still human?"
The shadows shifted. A woman's voice echoed from above. "No. You're something far greater."
Oban's eyes snapped upward.
On the rooftop stood a tall figure cloaked in black, her long hair spilling like a midnight river. Her eyes glowed violet, her lips curved into a smile that revealed the tips of fangs.
"A newborn," she purred. "And yet you've already slain Inquisitors. Intriguing."
Oban's blood ran cold. Another vampire.
The System pulsed:
[Warning: Unknown Entity detected.][Classification: Vampire Noble – Tier 7.]
The woman leapt gracefully down, landing silently before him. She tilted her head, studying him with amusement. "Tell me, boy. Do you want to survive in this world?"
Oban swallowed hard. "…Yes."
Her smile widened. "Then you'll need guidance. And power. I can give you both."
The System chimed again:
[New Quest: Survive the Temptation.]Objective: Decide whether to follow the Vampire Noble or reject her offer.]Reward: ???]
Oban's mind spun. He had just begun his new life, and already he stood at a crossroads.
And as the blood moon loomed above Transylvania, he realized one thing.
His journey had only just begun.