The boy looked up. He regretted it immediately.
A head was looking down at him. There was a bloodied smile on its face. The boy could see that its eyes were glowing red in the dim light. They looked like burning coals.
The boy sucked in a breath.
'What the hell is that thing?'
He had never seen something like this in his entire life. Even in that nightmare with the vampire, at least that one was wearing aristocratic clothes.
This was different. The creature's face was twisted. It looked wrong. Like humanity had been stripped away and replaced with pure hunger.
But the boy's mind was surprisingly calm.
'This is definitely a vampire. But not the sophisticated kind.'
The thing above him was nothing like the elegant undead creatures from movies or books. This was something feral. Something mindless. It was driven only by bloodlust.
"Arrggg!!!"
The creature let out an inhuman shriek. Its rotting hand reached down toward him.
There was a reason the boy was calm even now.
Before the thing could grab him, the sun's rays finally reached their area.
If this was indeed the story he was thinking about, then he will be safe now.
The sunlight hit the outstretched hand first. The creature jumped back while screaming in agony.
The boy watched as smoke began rising from the vampire's exposed flesh. The thing let out another agonized wail. Then he could hear running footsteps fading into the distance.
Blessed silence.
The sunlight had saved him. He was deeply thankful for that.
"Phew."
He wiped his forehead. He sat there for a long moment, trying to process what had just happened. His heart was still beating rapidly. But his mind was already working through the implications.
"That was a feral vampire."
One of the recently turned ones. This vampire was one of the unfortunate townspeople who had been attacked by a vampire and transformed into this abomination.
The boy was certain of this.
The author of [The Man Who Burned the Night] had written extensively about the different classes of vampires in the story. Like every other progression novel, the ones that the main character Clint Callahan faced at the beginning were these types.
Mindless, newly turned creatures driven only by hunger.
He wouldn't encounter the more intelligent and dangerous vampires until much later in the story. Only after he became strong enough to handle the feral ones first.
The boy was thankful for that knowledge. At least he understood what he was dealing with now.
'If this really is the beginning of that story, then I'm probably somewhere near the starting point.'
He leaned back against the rock. He started thinking logically about his situation. The presence of a feral vampire, the Western setting, the desert location. It all matched what he remembered from the novel.
'Which means the main character Clint should be starting his journey soon, if he hasn't already.'
The question was simple. Where exactly in the timeline was he? And more importantly, what role was he supposed to play in this story?
'Wait! I know a way.'
Vampire attacks were frequent around the world. It was hard to pinpoint where he was in the story.
Was it after the academy arc? Was it before the Crimson war? Or was he at the very beginning of the story, even before Clint's family was killed by that vampire?
But all of it could be solved one way.
The boy reached into his pocket. Past the waistcoat. He pulled out a small white card.
'Anyone other than him is good.'
He was thinking about someone that appears at the start of the academy arc. Someone that made the main character's life miserable.
He was the epitome of the offended young master trope.
Someone the author created because, well, offended young master troupe was the best in the academy arc.
He was also the one that became a laughing stock. A stepping stone for the main character. Someone that was created for just giggles and villainy.
The boy really hoped that wasn't the case here at all.
'Ah!'
He let out a small cry. He looked up and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.
He was done. He was really done now.
All the fear, excitement and everything he had felt just a moment ago was gone. The prospect that he was transmigrated into a new world had disappeared.
Puff. Just like that.
'Ah, you should have transmigrated me as an extra or something.'
Even the sidekick of the real main character felt better than this abomination of a name that stared back at him from that card.
"What a waste..."
The boy was truly done. He dragged a hand over his face.
The name that stared back was one that would instantly make any reader's blood boil. They would even throw in some curses here and there.
[Colt Flintlock]
The third son of the Flintlock family. The character that he dreaded just now.
He had become him now.