Soviet of the Vampire World

[Brain Storage Area:]

[Brain Retrieval Area:]

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The night was heavy, the sky devoid of light, the whole world shrouded in deathly silent darkness. The gurgling waves were the Gordon River's hoarse struggle for voice, the cold night wind its faltering breath.

Suddenly!

A glimmer of light in the distance brought an unusual hue to this lifeless world. An aged barge split the waves, defied the wind, and sailed fearlessly down the quiet Gordon River. On its starboard side, blurred letters hinted at the vessel's former name, now illegible. Instead, fresh white paint proclaimed its new identity:

Dawnbreaker.

Standing at the bow, Li Yiege—the man who had christened this old barge—gazed at the city ahead, spewing smoke and wealth, glittering with lights and decadence. As the waves rose and fell, the cold night wind brushed his resolute face, the river's thin mist caressing his jet-black short hair. Only the scattered lights carried his thoughts back to that day five years ago.

Fresh out of university, he had stumbled into this strange world by chance. While his classmates were job-hunting or taking exams, he was struggling to survive in another world—without any cheat codes, completely alone. With his soft belly and weak limbs, unfamiliar with the land and language, he had nearly fallen victim to river bandits, only to be rescued by a group of kind corpse-fishers.

In the years that followed, Li Yiege mastered the local language from scratch, built a strong physique, and even established a revolutionary force in the Leman Swamps downstream. Recalling these five short years, he couldn't help but marvel at his journey—as dramatic as his aptly named identity.

"Yeglin!" An excited voice snapped Li Yiege from his reverie. He turned to see a freckled young man.

"What is it, Malinsky?"

"He's awake! The man we rescued is awake!" Malinsky couldn't contain his joy, practically dancing with excitement until a large hand smacked the back of his head.

"Enough noise, boy. You'll bring those damned Night Watchers down on us," grumbled the white-bearded old captain, though Li Yiege appreciated the youth's vitality.

"Easy, Old Koen. The young need guidance, not criticism." With Li Yiege's support, Malinsky defiantly raised his beardless chin and strutted past Koen, earning a playful kick.

"The poor soul's weeping uncontrollably," Koen said, tapping his pipe against the railing. "We moved him to the wheelhouse for some quiet. Yeglin, should we keep him?"

Li Yiege sighed, lighting his own pipe. "If he's got nowhere to go, he comes with us. If we don't care for such souls, who will?"

As the barge approached Wolfgrad, its chimneys clawing at the sky, Koen voiced his doubts: "I hope we're doing right. The whole guerrilla force is here, but I don't trust those Psheviks."

Li Yiege's eyes reflected the city's lights like gathering flames. "Our conflict with them is secondary. The real struggle is between humans and vampires, between empire and colony."

"Wolfgrad is a powder keg waiting for a spark. We must act now—not just to support our comrades, but to break free from the vines choking our revolution."

He gestured across the river. "Neither these swamps nor this city can sustain our movement. We must go to the villages—to Yadi, to Pligayev, to Ornezhk! The revolution's roots lie in rural Sideros, not its few cities."

Old Koen frowned. "But even our own guerrillas don't understand why we must abandon cities for farmland."

"Then we'll show them!" Li Yiege's voice burned with quiet fury. "If we're to light the revolutionary fire, we must be ready to be burned. This struggle concerns all North Sideros—none may stand aside!"

As his words echoed over the water, Li Yiege suddenly noticed something amiss. "Koen, aren't we... leaving the city?"

The old captain's eyes widened. "Damn that boy! He's sailed right past!"