Absolute Vampire System

Ethan inched backward, careful not to make a sound—

But something was behind him.

A low, guttural growl sent a chill racing down his spine.

[QUEST RECEIVED]

[Exterminate 50 Bloodhound Reapers]

[Reward: Instant Level-Up // Time Limit: 2 Hours]

[Failure: Death]

His eyes widened just as he spun, but too late—he sprang toward the cashier's counter hoping to vault it—

—but was caught mid-air.

Teeth like jagged knives sank into his shoulder, dragging him down.

"AAARGH!" he screamed as blood sprayed across the mall floor.

He struggled violently, but before he could break free, another one pounced and latched onto his leg, ripping into flesh. A third swiped his face, claws slashing deep across his cheek and brow. He hit the ground hard, red pooling around him.

Pain exploded in every nerve. His vision blurred. The pack closed in.

The officers reached a cracked stone wall covered in vines. A thick, rusted padlock held the entrance shut.

Kato stepped forward, raised his sidearm, and fired.

The bullet left the barrel in silence.

Click-thp.

The lock snapped clean off.

Agung yanked the door open with a low groan of rusted metal, revealing a narrow tunnel carved into the earth. They switched on their torches and entered in a single file.

The air hit them instantly.

"Ugh—what is that?" one of the officers choked, covering his nose. Another gagged behind him, blinking rapidly.

"Keep moving," Agung ordered, voice hard.

They advanced slowly, guns raised, every shadow twitching in the torchlight.

The tunnel opened into a long stone room, dimly lit by wall sconces.

At the far end sat a woman in black — poised, still, a glass of deep red liquid in her hand.

She didn't eat.

But the men seated around the table did.

Each one wore black suits and sunglasses, their faces emotionless as they tore into raw meat with their hands and teeth.

The only sound in the room: flesh being chewed.

Ethan's fingers slid over broken tiles—desperate. Blood smeared under his palms. He reached up, grabbing blindly—

His hand closed around a half-filled glass on the counter.

He swung wildly and jammed it straight into the nearest hound's eye.

CRACK!

The glass shattered, splinters driving deep into the creature's socket. It yelped, staggering back in a frenzy, thrashing against shelves.

Ethan gasped, pulling himself upright, but another hound grabbed his leg and pulled.

He reached up and yanked down a curtain—bringing the rod with it.

The hound dragged him back in a vicious tug-of-war.

Ethan screamed as skin tore and muscle burned. "LET GO, YOU UGLY MUTT!"

His torn leg flared in agony, blood trailing in streaks. He stretched—fingers trembling—and finally gripped the curtain rod.

With a roar, he smashed the hound's skull with all the strength he had left.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

The rod bent slightly as the beast finally let go, whimpering.

Ethan stumbled to his feet, staggering, his right foot nearly useless, slick with blood.

One hound thrashed with the glass still embedded in its face. The other stood frozen, eyes locked on him, snarling.

He crouched slowly, breathing ragged, grabbing a broken shard of glass with one hand. His eyes darted around.

He tied it to the end of the curtain rod with a ripped length of his own gown—shaking fingers wrapping tight.

The two hounds growled, circling in opposite directions.

They were hunting again.

And this time, he was ready.

Blood soaked the tiles beneath him, and Ethan's breath came in sharp, broken gasps. The curtain rod with glass tied to its end trembled in his grip, but he held it tight—knuckles white.

The wounded hound, the one with the glass in its eye, snarled and lunged.

Ethan didn't flinch.

"Come on, you ugly freak…"

As the beast leapt through the air, jaws wide, Ethan raised the makeshift spear with both hands and drove it upward.

SHUNK!

The jagged glass pierced into its neck, slicing through flesh. The hound's body slammed into him with full weight, sending them both crashing to the floor. Ethan's ribs flared in pain.

He rolled the twitching corpse off, panting, just as a howl echoed through the ruined mall.

Low. Piercing. Deathly.

His eyes widened. The second hound raised its head and howled louder—summoning its kin.

[SYSTEM WARNING!]

[High-frequency Howl Detected — Reinforcements Incoming]

Ethan's fingers scrambled for the rod again. The second hound charged—closer, closer—

He pushed himself up on one knee and met it head-on, plunging the rod through its skull with every ounce of strength he had left.

Blood sprayed across his chest.

The beast dropped, twitching violently.

[SYSTEM UPDATE]

[Bloodhound Reapers Remaining: 49]

[Kill Count: 1]

[SYSTEM WARNING]

[Vital Signs Critical]

[Health: 15 → 9]

Ethan stood, swaying.

His vision blurred at the edges. His right foot throbbed with white-hot pain. Blood ran down his face, mixing with sweat and dirt.

Still, he gritted his teeth.

"I'm not dying here," he whispered. "You hear me? I'm not dying in some trash heap city surrounded by mutts."

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spitting blood.

"I need a weapon. A real damn weapon."

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

[Recommendation: Seek Nearest Armory – Location: 600 meters north]

[Warning: Hostile Presence Detected En Route]

And then… he heard it.

Dozens of paws.

Claws scraping concrete.

The pack was coming.

But Ethan didn't run. Not yet.

He turned toward the shadows ahead and limped forward.

"Come and get me…"