The obese officer's name was Li Tie—though it mattered little now. He'd clawed his way to garrison command through nepotism, expecting a quiet posting: what terrorist would dare attack a dam guarded by a thousand soldiers? He'd planned to spend his days indulging in wine, women, and the occasional "recruitment" of local beauties—like that farmer's wife, whose husband had proven annoyingly persistent. A few beatings should set the man straight.
He was just retiring for the night when a soldier burst in, armor clanking: "Sir! The garrison is under attack!"
Li's blood ran cold. Explosions rattled the walls, searchlights slicing the night into shards. How many attackers?
"J-just one, sir."
"One?!" Li's bulbous eyes bulged. "Are you insane? A psychic, then?"
Psychics—humans born with godlike abilities, the only force that could terrify even a vampire like Lu Qiu. If this was one of them… retreat was the only option.
But when Li staggered outside, his courage evaporated.
"Fire! Don't fall back!" roared a grizzled platoon leader, rallying soldiers against a shadow in the flames. Bullets sprayed, but the thing that emerged was no psychic—it was a monstrosity, born from the farmer's corpse: Huntsman, all rippling crimson muscle and bone-blades, ripping through men like paper. A soldier's torso split in three, blood arcing in grotesque parabolas; another was dragged into that gaping maw, bones crunching like kindling.
Li collapsed, (ass) hitting gravel. The monster's gaze locked on him, and in that instant, Li remembered the farmer's broken face—could this be him? The answer came as a claw impaled his chest, his head sailing through the air, expression frozen in 永恒的 (eternal) horror.
Meanwhile, Lu Qiu strolled through the front gate, unhidden, unhurried. Chaos swirled around him—screams, gunfire, the Huntsman's triumphant roars—but he drank it in like wine. This is the sound of despair, he thought, lips curving as he made for the dam control room.
"Stop! Identify yourself!" A wounded soldier, kneeling beside a twitching comrade, leveled his rifle. Lu Qiu ignored him, steps steady.
The soldier's comrade suddenly jerked to life, eyes milky, teeth sinking into his neck. Reacting on instinct, the soldier fired, blowing the infected man's skull apart—then turned back to Lu Qiu, hatred blazing. "You did this! You—"
His threat died as Huntsman's claw sheared him in half. Despair Points +1, pinged the System. Lu Qiu's grin widened. More alerts chimed, a symphony of dying hopes.
The control room was a tomb of silence, pipes humming with the city's lifeline. At its core lay a testing pool, water shimmering—pure, unsuspecting. Pour the virus here, and every tap in Wenhan would bleed contamination.
He raised the vial, its contents glowing like molten magma—when a barked command froze him: "Drop the container!"
The platoon leader stood in the corridor, blood oozing from a gut wound, pistol trembling but steady. A veteran, eyes hard as steel, already piecing together the horror: this boy is the key.
"Whatever your goal," the man panted, "you'll drown millions. Families, lives—all gone. Show some mercy."
Lu Qiu's laugh echoed hollow, tinged with madness. Mercy? Images flashed: his sister, (Jier), screaming as holy fire consumed her, tiny hands reaching for him. "Mercy is a human luxury," he said, voice icy. "You burned my little sister for being different. Called us monsters. Now you get to see what monsters do."
The platoon leader's trigger finger twitched. Lu Qiu tilted the vial, virus spilling into the pool, scarlet tendrils curling through water like living things.
"You—monster!" The man fired, but Lu Qiu was already moving, a blur of pale flesh. A searing pain erupted in the platoon leader's chest, his heart squeezing under invisible pressure. He fell, pistol clattering, watching as Lu Qiu approached, hand glowing with stolen blood magic.
"Thank me," Lu Qiu murmured, fingers closing into a fist. "You'll die human… unlike your men, who'll feast on their own families."
A wet crunch echoed. The platoon leader's eyes dimmed, last sight the vampire's grin—triumphant, unhinged.
Lu Qiu slumped to the floor, breath ragged. The System's tally glowed in his mind: 0 Despair Points. He'd spent every last one on Heart Crush, a single-use blood magic that squeezed hearts within three meters. Worth it. Tomorrow, the virus would spread, and despair would rain like fire.
He stood, staring at the rippling pool. Dawn was hours away, but Lu Qiu, cursed to loathe the light, found himself eager for it. Let the sun rise—over a world already dying.
The revolution had begun. And this time, the monsters were in charge.