Chapter 13:

In Morland Village, the small players were huffing and puffing as they dug holes. They were planning to bury the innocent villagers killed by the Witch Hunters. Originally, it was just a show in front of Murphy to demonstrate their “reliability”, but after Miriam gestured and gave a pile of bloody coins to these “enthusiasts”, the nature of this task completely changed. Although the player interface has not yet gone online, the small players stubbornly believe that this is a quest. Look, the beautiful NPC lady gave them money, right? She is also babbling about something, though they can’t understand it, but it must be words of overflowing gratitude, isn’t this the routine for an NPC to issue a quest? As players, it would be too much to not take a quest delivered to their doorstep. However, the real truth is... “Murphy, can you manage your otherworld heroes?” Miriam said embarrassingly to Murphy, who was currently enjoying the night. “I said I wanted to pile up these corpses and burn them to prevent them from turning into vengeful spirits or ghouls later! Such a massacre is most likely to produce those terrible things. But they can’t understand me and insist on digging a big pit. This seems to be some kind of custom from their world, but at this rate, when will they finish digging?” “Let them dig if they want to. I told you, my heroes are very warm-hearted people, passionate and stubborn. If you stop them, they will just get unhappy. And if they are unhappy, someone will have a bad time.” The unfortunate vampire didn’t want to bother with these matters. He was currently quite interested in watching Meow King and Precipitation Niuniu fiddling with that automatic crossbow. Meow King, sweating profusely, picked up the heavy machinery, and with Niuniu’s help, opened its self-deployed tripod, aiming it outside the village. Their sly smiles showed they clearly intended to “have some fun” before being kicked offline. But after all their fooling around, the two idiots could not understand the operating principle of this thing. It had some similarity to real-world machinery, but the underlying design logic was completely different. “Where’s the safety?” Niuniu, the athlete, kept pulling the trigger but could not activate the exquisite steam boiler. Meow King was also at a complete loss. As a senior social drone doing software outsourcing, he had never had a chance to deal with such a device that could both punish and torture. Perhaps if his two middle-aged friends Dump Truck and Bulldozer Man, who had worked in machining for half their lives, were here they might have figured it out. Unfortunately, those two unlucky guys had already been killed by this thing earlier. As the two fiddled blindly, Miriam finally took action. She squatted next to Meow King, nimbly inspecting the automatic crossbow, then opened a hidden safety latch underneath. The steam boiler restarted with a hissing sound, and the metal bolt magazines began rotating with a clicking noise. “The catalyst gold in the steam boiler is enough for a long time, but the self-contained fuel gas is running low, so use it sparingly.” As an outstanding student from the Shaldor Engineering Academy’s administrative department, although not specializing in mechanics, Miriam had taken extracurricular internships at the halfling factories, so she could operate these steam machines to some extent. However, she and the small players could not communicate verbally. She babbled at Niuniu, who was holding the automatic crossbow, but he could only stare back with a look of pure incomprehension. “What is this NPC saying?” Niuniu turned and asked, and Meow King rolled his eyes, saying: “She said you’re very handsome.” “Heh, that’s right! I was the most handsome guy in the athletics department back then, with the nickname ‘Niuniu the Maple’. Looks like this NPC has pretty good taste.” The simple-minded athlete immediately became delighted, but then realized that Meow King could not actually understand what the NPC was saying either, so this guy was probably just making it up. Damn, this sly social animal! “Can you fix that thing?” Murphy asked in a low voice, obviously noticing Miriam’s “hidden ability”. The latter glanced at Murphy, as if seeing through his intentions. She shook her head and said, “I’m not from the mechanics department. Besides, this type of automaton is too old – the halfling engineers at Shaldor long ago stopped using this single-boiler structure for weapons. Although the Witch Hunters have maintained it well, they must have acquired it at least 100 years ago. You’d need to find a specialized old mechanic to repair it... Huh? What’s that?” Miriam pointed in surprise behind Murphy. When the vampire turned around, he saw the crimson smoke signal of the Blood Vultures hovering in the night sky behind them, that familiar pattern made Murphy narrow his eyes. “The rallying signal of the Midnight Hunters. That’s the direction the Witch Hunters fled... They’re done for!” Seeing that smoke signal, Murphy knew that the message he had dispatched Maxim to deliver had succeeded. He let out a sigh of relief, a huge weight lifted from his mind. He then called out to the busy little players: Though Murphy had not been a vampire for long, Tris’ teachings had made him properly wary of dealing with his “brethren.” Tris often told him when drunk that when fighting alongside other vampires, guarding against betrayal from behind was far more important than defending against outward enemy strikes. These haughty Midnight Hunters did not engage Murphy much further after opening the Patriarch’s sealed order. They seemed to be waiting outside the village for more huntsmen to gather before carrying out Blood Vulture Patriarch Salrokdar’s secret mission. But Murphy did not care about that at all. What he really hoped was that after completing the messenger task, he could be allowed to return to the safe Kadman City and discuss getting the hell out with Tris. He had not realized it before going out, but after this experience made him aware the Blood Vulture Clan had been thoroughly compromised, he did not want to stay a day longer in this shithole Transia. Tris had said she had some clout in other vampire clans, so he planned to take her and let the slowly growing players escort them as bodyguards. The world is vast, where could they not go? “Revnor Murphy Lessenbra!” Lost in thought, Murphy turned at the sound of that cold voice calling out. He saw the short, hooded female leader of the huntresses had silently approached him. After staring at him piercingly from under her crimson cloak for a moment, she said: “I need to enlist you and your servants to carry out the Patriarch’s secret mission critical to the war situation in the Transia region and the entire Portia Federation. Therefore, I hope...” “Before ordering me around, my lady, shouldn’t you at least let me know who you are?” Murphy yawned, interrupting the female vampire’s long-winded speech. He stared at her, mimicking the vampires’ characteristic gloomy tone as he said: “Though I am but a nameless member of the clan, I was still personally Embraced by the former elder lady Tris. Surely I have a right to know which great personage I will be serving?” “Tris is a disgrace to the clan! Every Blood Vulture knows this.” The huntress leader scoffed coldly, shamelessly insulting Murphy’s “elder.” “I must know who you are!” Murphy could not refute the “fact” that Tris was a disgrace, but he said quite seriously and stubbornly: “Only then can I confirm that my servants and I will not just be treated as cannon fodder and discarded. In theory, my messenger mission is already over, my lady. As you well know, I could return to Kadman City now. We Blood Vultures have our rules, unlike those unruly ruffian wolves of the Wolfbane Clan.” These words gave the huntress leader pause. Perhaps convinced by Murphy invoking clan rules, after a few seconds she pulled back her hood, revealing an extremely young, even “childish” face. Black hair like Murphy’s. But crimson red eyes, along with her short, petite stature and baby-faced cheeks, the very image of a half-grown child. No wonder she had been so thoroughly bundled up, that dignified appearance truly lacked any sense of gravitas on the battlefield. However, Murphy immediately recognized her from his own memory, and politely bowed in the standard Blood Vulture manner to the short girl. He said in a low voice: “Ah, it is you, Lady Femis. Then my servants and I are willing to diligently serve your father’s cause and yours.” “Not for me and my father!” Lady Femis Cecilia Lessenbra wrinkled her cute little nose, correcting him sternly: “This is for the existence and continuation of the Blood Vulture Clan! Though my father is the Patriarch, you need not show me such deference, for I too am but an ordinary member of the clan.” “Ah yes, yes, you’re absolutely right, my lady.” Murphy replied dismissively. This noble child, was she really that naive? Or a naturally cunning? But as the young lady turned to leave after speaking, Murphy’s eyes suddenly lit up. He cleared his throat and said: “My lady, wait a moment please. My servants and I are most willing to serve – ahem, not you, but the clan’s great cause. However, I still hope to secure some small benefit to inspire their loyalty, pride and drive.” “Hm?” Lady Femis turned back, puzzled. “What do you mean?” “What I mean is, I hope to receive something from you to stir my servants’ enthusiasm, self-respect and ambition. Don’t misunderstand! It’s nothing important, and surely something you’d be willing to give.”