Chapter 121 - How Are You All? There's a Lot to Talk About

  The flicker of blue light reflecting off the eyes of every user present cast an eerie glow across the ruined hall. The towering structure of the vampire palace stood quiet, suspended in uneasy silence, yet within the minds of the awakened, a storm was raging. Still standing at the center of the platform that had just witnessed a gathering of impossible powers, Adam kept his gaze fixed on the system window floating before him.

  It was the same screen the others were reading—his team and the members of WNATN. And yet, for Adam, the importance of what lay before him could not be overstated.

  His eyes moved methodically across every word, analyzing every phrase with obsessive clarity. Even though the weight of the moment still pressed heavily on his shoulders—hundreds of vampires kneeling in reverent silence before him, their minds still burning with the image of a divine god-beast dissolving into ash—this screen held his attention. Because Adam knew that once this system window closed, unless the conditions of the subplot were updated or modified, there would be no way to access this information again. That alone demanded his full, undivided focus. And so he read.

  Five hidden subplots. That was the first detail that seized him. It was more than any scenario they had participated in thus far. In previous worlds, there had always been fewer—three and two, respectively—and those had already proven difficult enough to uncover. The fact that this world, already vast and writhing with tension between races, held five hidden narratives beneath the surface meant one thing: this scenario was larger than any they had faced before. And this subplot—marked as the fifth—likely stood at the very summit of difficulty.

  Adam’s expression tensed, his jaw tightening as the implications dawned on him. The last subplot was always the deepest, the rarest, the one so obscured by circumstance that only the most chaotic chains of events could lead a player to uncover it. And now, here he stood, at the eye of a storm he hadn’t even intended to create, staring at the narrative thread that promised the most radical shift the scenario could undergo.

  A revolution. Not a battle. Not a skirmish. Not a hidden side mission or a character assassination. The complete upheaval of this world’s structure.

  The details were written plainly: Unify the vampire race and the remnants of the giant tribes, forge them into a coalition strong enough to challenge the divine empire of humanity. Then, assassinate the Four Paladin Paragons—champions said to have their power source directly from the goddess Arianka—and destroy the central holy temple that served as the heart of her influence.

  And yet, beneath the raw ambition of the objective, Adam spotted something subtler. A line of text. An echo of something he had seen before. The second scenario had ended in a similar warning, one that only made sense once he realized that none of the events they had witnessed had been random. That everything—from the conflict between the pirate guilds and the Armada fleets, to the rise of monstrous entities from the deep—had been orchestrated from behind the curtain.

  Stratos Technology… The memory hit him like a blade of frost. That name had seemed like an ally at first. A corporation-like entity that had appeared as part of the government just to reveal as the true instigators of that world near destruction.

  Was that happening again? His instincts told him yes.

  Could the paladins themselves be the ones behind the manipulation? No… It didn’t make sense. The conditions of the subplot directly opposed them. The temple had to fall, the paragons had to die. No faction loyal to Arianka would ever design a plan with that outcome in mind. But what if there was another group embedded within the paladins themselves? A splinter cell? Or worse?

  His mind spiraled through possibilities, forming and discarding theories at a rapid pace, chasing threads he could barely grasp. He felt like someone standing in a field of dominoes just after the first tile had fallen. Somewhere, a pattern was forming—but it was still invisible, and the weight of its consequences was only beginning to be felt.

  He hadn’t even realized that the system window had faded. And when he finally looked up, he found hundreds of vampire eyes staring at him, waiting. The Lords, the Elders, and the still-conscious nobles—each of them now looked to Adam not as a curiosity, not as an interloper, but as a messiah. The echoes of power, of divine contradiction, of devilish ascent—all of it now hung on his shoulders. And they waited for their new leader’s next command.

  It wasn’t until Adam felt a light tug at the edge of his sleeve that he realized how still everything had become. Emir, standing beside him with wide but calm eyes, had gently pulled at the fabric, a silent signal to draw his attention back to the world.

  Only then did Adam truly notice the silence—the weight of hundreds of gazes still lingering on him like a pressure that refused to fade. They were all staring. Every vampire noble, every Lord, every Elder, every servant and soldier, all frozen in a kind of reverent stillness, awaiting his next move. He blinked, caught off guard by the sheer surrealism of it all, his mouth parting slightly in stunned hesitation, but only for a moment. He pushed down the instinctive discomfort swelling in his chest and forced his voice to emerge, steady and composed, amplified by his still-active skills of command and the residual aura left behind by Noctharis’ mimicry.

  “Gather those who remain unconscious.”

  Adam said aloud, his tone edged with command rather than suggestion.

  “Tend to them, ensure they’re stabilized. Move them somewhere safe within the palace. I will reconvene with the Lords and Elders here... two hours from now.”

  He let the words settle, watching as they rippled through the crowd like a spell. No one questioned him. No one spoke. They obeyed.

  The Lords and Elders descended slowly from the platform, their ancient robes sweeping over stone, their posture solemn. Nobles rushed to aid the fallen, lifting unconscious bodies with reverence, moving with newfound purpose. Even Vaelric lingered a moment, locking eyes with Adam from across the room. There was something in his expression—approval, pride, perhaps something else—but the moment passed quickly. He bowed with a precision so deep it felt ceremonial, then turned and followed the others, disappearing into the halls beyond, and at last, silence returned.

  Only the users remained now—his team and the members of WNATN—along with Abbess, who stood calmly beside the platform like a loyal sentinel. The oppressive air of expectation was gone, leaving behind the ragged, heavy breaths of those still recovering.

  Adam, finally letting out the deep sigh he’d been holding for what felt like forever, allowed his legs to collapse beneath him. He dropped to the platform with a sharp exhale and sat there heavily, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. With a thought, he deactivated his transformation. The [Yong Xian Sovereign’s Body Manifestation] skill effects faded, and with it, the changes on his body dissolved. His features shifted back to their normal proportions—short black hair, leaner build, less imposing stance. The crimson glow in his eyes dimmed to their usual dark hue, and his muscles relaxed. He felt his bones ache from the sudden release of tension, but welcomed the simplicity of returning to himself. He would need that vampiric form again when dealing with the nobility—but for now, he needed to breathe.

  The others approached immediately. One by one, his team gathered around, checking on the unconscious and exchanging murmured updates. Drake had already administered small, glimmering pills to Chloe, Sebastian, Dayana, André, and Jonathan. Their breathing had stabilized quickly, and they now lay in a light, magical sleep, their bodies beginning to recover from the overwhelming spiritual shock they had suffered. Angela was the first to speak, her voice firm but tinged with urgency.

  “What happened?”

  She asked, staring at Adam intently.

  “What the hell were those things?”

  Kazue followed quickly, eyes still wide.

  “Yeah, what even were they? That massive hand, and that—thing with the goat skull and wings? What the hell was that?!”

  She blurted out, her voice rising with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

  “I mean, we didn’t even get a good look! Just that huge claw tearing through the air and then… boom, everything vanished!”

  Even Li cut in without waiting for Adam to reply.

  “And that cube, the one you were holding, that’s the kid’s…? Anyway, how did you manifest that creature from it?”

  Adam looked at each of them in turn, his expression shifting from lingering fatigue to something steadier, more resolved. He took a slow breath, steadying himself against the weight of everything still fresh in his mind. His gaze passed over each of his allies before he finally spoke.

  “When Noctharis died, time... stopped.”

  He said, surprising some of them. They blinked, confused, but Adam kept speaking before anyone could interrupt.

  “I don’t mean figuratively. I mean, everything froze. You were all suspended mid-breath, unmoving, unaware. Only I was left awake— the big claw was the ArchDevil, Malzaphir. A superior being even to a demon god. And he wasn’t summoned by the ritual exactly... not directly. He came through the blood. My blood.”

  He paused, swallowing the heaviness in his throat.

  “I still don’t fully understand it, but because of the energy inside me, I somehow created the perfect channel for him. I didn’t call him, but he still answered. Then the Overmind appeared too, and after that, ‘The_Hunger’ forced its way into the scene.”

  Adam’s voice wavered slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer magnitude of what he had witnessed.

  “Three superior entities, all in one place, arguing over me like I was a possession. Then Malzaphir offered me a contract, ‘The_Hunger’ tried to force one, and the Overmind—”

  He stopped, eyes narrowing.

  “—it just watched.”

  He let the silence stretch for a moment before continuing.

  “I rejected ‘The_Hunger’.”

  Adam said, the weight of those words anchoring his voice with cold finality.

  “I told it I couldn’t go through with the deal… that I wouldn’t give myself up like that. And that’s when everything started to spiral.”

  He paused, the memory vivid in his mind, the surreal clarity of the moment etched deeper than he liked.

  “Something happened immediately afterwards, someone grabbed it. Two arms came through a portal and pulled it out of the scenario like it was nothing. It screamed, thrashed, and tried to fight back, but it was dragged away before it could do anything more. I only caught a glimpse of what did it, a silhouette that looked... maybe like a woman. Crowned in fire. But it was gone before I could be sure.”

  His voice grew quieter, more grounded in the emotions behind the recollection.

  “Then, just when I thought it was over, the Overmind spoke to me again. It warned me. Said there would be consequences for rejecting a Patron—said ‘The_Hunger’ wouldn’t let that go. That I had probably forfeited whatever grace or protection it offered and that I should expect retaliation.”

  Adam clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly.

  “That’s when Malzaphir made his move. He’d just been watching until then, amused. But after seeing me defy a Patron and survive... he decided to make me an offer. Power, guidance, a connection. In return, he wanted part of me. My essence. Not my soul. Not my life. Just... my existence. Because he thought I was entertaining.”

  He gave a faint, humorless laugh.

  “I didn’t agree to that either. Not directly. Instead, I made my own offer. I told him I’d give him the best show he’d ever seen. That my life, from that point until my death, would be the most chaotic and unpredictable thing a being like him could ever witness. I offer him entertainment in exchange for power—power I could survive, power that would grow as I grew.”

  He looked up, meeting their eyes again.

  “And he accepted.”

  Only then did he glance at Emir, his voice softening just slightly.

  “Afterward, I noticed Emir holding the cube, the energy trapped inside... it was part of Noctharis. Somehow, he’d captured it during the chaos. I used one of my new abilities, [Devilish Energy Manifestation] to shape it—not to resurrect him, just to echo what everyone saw. A phantom. A symbol. Enough to convince the Elders, the Lords, and everyone else that I’d been chosen by their so-called new god.”

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  He looked down at his hands again, turning one over as if expecting to see the residue of all that power etched into his skin.

  “At least it worked.”

  He said, quieter now. However, Gregor’s voice interrupted, firm and grave.

  “Ashmedra spoke to me when it happened. He was terrified. Said only an idiot would summon something like Malzaphir. A Devil, Adam. Not a demon. They don’t lie directly, but they twist everything. Their contracts are traps in disguise.”

  Adam met Gregor’s eyes without flinching.

  “I can understand that, but do you think I had a choice? I refused a Patron. I had already antagonized one of the most powerful entities we’d encountered. If I didn’t have something to counterbalance that... I’d be dead, Gregor. We’d all be dead.”

  That was the truth. Cold and bare. Gregor looked away with a clenched jaw, not agreeing—but not arguing either. But someone else was staring at him in silence. Angela.

  Her gaze darkened, almost imperceptibly. It was a flicker—an involuntary narrowing of the eyes, a tension that barely touched the surface of her otherwise composed expression. It passed quickly, smoothed away with the ease of someone long practiced in masking their thoughts. No one noticed. Not Drake, not Kazue, not even Adam, who was too focused on recounting what had just happened to see the subtle fracture in her calm. The moment vanished as swiftly as it came, buried beneath a neutral glance and a shift in posture as Angela turned her attention elsewhere, as if nothing had stirred within her at all.

  Adam exhaled once more, the weight of the situation still heavy in his chest. Then, quietly, he turned his head toward Emir. The boy, holding onto the cube that Adam had returned, blinked up at him with wide, dark eyes, clearly surprised by the sudden attention. Adam softened his expression, adjusting his tone to be as gentle as possible—not commanding, not demanding, just curious and warm.

  “Emir, can you tell me how you did it? That cube—you managed to trap Noctharis’s energy inside it. How? I mean, you’ve done something like that before, back with Lord Varek… but that time, it took you a while. This time it was almost instantly for what I can tell.”

  He said, his voice lower now, almost quiet in the strange stillness that had settled over them, Emir looked down at the cube in his hands, then back up at Adam with a thoughtful frown. He hugged the object to his chest for a second, as if drawing strength from its weight before answering.

  “I dunno.”

  He said softly, his voice edged with uncertainty but never childish.

  “I didn’t really think about it. When that big thing turned into smoke, I just… knew. I knew what I had to do. Like, my head didn’t tell me, but something in me did. So I just moved.”

  Adam’s brows furrowed as he absorbed the boy’s words. There was nothing calculated in Emir’s tone. No pride, no bravado. Just a simple explanation of a feeling—of instinct. The rest of the group seemed to fall quiet around them, all eyes now on the boy as he handed the cube back over.

  He took it momentarily, weighing the object in his teammate's palm. It pulsed faintly with a pressure that even now carried the echo of Noctharis’s dreadful power—the fact that Emir had contained it so quickly and so completely… it was weird. There had to be a reason. Something in the system. Adam narrowed his eyes and returned the cube, then raised his hand slowly.

  “Can I see your status window?”

  He asked. Emir nodded without hesitation, small fingers moving as he brought up the familiar transparent screen in front of him. Adam leaned forward slightly and activated his own skill, [Cursed Vision], letting his eyes flood with silent streams of system data. For a few seconds, everything seemed normal—basic traits, inventory, known skills—until he reached the titles section. And then he saw it.

  And just beneath that:

  Adam stared in silence, his mind processing each line with increasing astonishment. Of course. That explained everything. The boy had become an instinctual weapon against divine forces. Not just one skill, but two titles working in tandem—one that allowed him to contain the near-divine, and another that made him an existential threat to the very world they were in. It wasn’t a calculation. It wasn’t strategy. It was pure instinct, honed through system anomalies and forged by her past experience.

  “You’re… amazing.”

  Adam said at last, his voice dropping again to something closer to awe than anything else. He wasn’t the type to lavish praise easily, but there was no point in denying it.

  “You really are something else, Emir.”

  The boy shifted awkwardly on his feet, his cheeks darkening a bit with embarrassment. He turned his face slightly, clearly not used to that kind of praise, and fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve.

  “…Thanks.”

  He mumbled, his voice barely audible. Adam allowed himself a faint smile. For now, that was more than enough.

  Then, Adam turned his head again, this time toward Drake and Angela, the last lingering traces of tension still resting on his face. The weight of everything that had happened had yet to truly settle, but there was still something important that had been gnawing at the edge of his thoughts. He blinked once, then asked, his tone calm but direct.

  “By the way… the subplot. The one you two must have completed when the Vampire Lord Lucian burned—what exactly happened with it? Did the system give you the rewards?”

  The question made Drake and Angela both straighten slightly, as if only now truly connecting the dots in hindsight. There was a brief pause before realization visibly passed between them. The vampire Lord that had combusted into blue flames had been the target. They had achieved what the system demanded, but the method and timing had been far outside their expectations.

  Drake was the first to speak, his voice steady but slightly more thoughtful than usual.

  “Yeah… I think that was it. That was the completion trigger. The system confirmed it the second he died.”

  He raised a hand, curling it into a loose fist.

  “But the class it gave me—‘Paladin Champion’—well, in my case, things got complicated. I already had a class. ‘Cultivator.’ And according to everything the system said in its original description, you can’t have two.”

  He paused for a second, then looked at Adam.

  “At least, not normally. But this wasn’t a choice. The system forced the new class into me anyway. For a while, both were inside me at the same time. It was like… oil and water. Completely separate. I didn’t think it would work.”

  Drake’s gaze shifted upward as if remembering the notification.

  “Then the system gave me a prompt. Said it had detected a compatibility overlap between the two and was attempting to harmonize them. There was a fifty percent chance of success. I accepted it. And somehow, I got lucky. The result was something new: [Holy Cultivator: Rank S-].”

  He exhaled through his nose.

  “Some of my skills evolved. Some changed completely. A couple are new. But overall? I still feel like myself. I don’t detect any notorious change.”

  Angela stepped forward next, her expression unreadable as she lifted something from within the folds of her jacket.

  “For me, it was different.”

  She held out what appeared to be a card—delicate, rectangular, hand-painted in watercolors. Upon its surface was the image of gleaming armor wrapped in golden light.

  “I sealed it.”

  Her voice was casual, but her grip on the card was careful.

  “I didn’t want to risk instability. The divine class and my current path… they don’t mix. I used one of my skills to store the class instead.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued.

  “You sealed the entire class?”

  Angela nodded.

  “One of my support skills lets me paint cards to store my active or passive abilities. Usually it’s for temporary boosts or storage—but I can use it to seal entire skills or classes too, as long as they’re stable. This one was—so I kept it.”

  She glanced down at the card in her hand.

  “Might sell it. Or trade it, I don’t know.”

  Adam’s mind clicked into place, recalling the update the system had made before they’d entered the current scenario. A player marketplace. Tradeable items… A grim but effective way to treat power like currency. He didn’t ask more—there was no time for it. He was simply relieved neither of them had gone through what he had. No bone-shattering pain, just manageable decisions.

  And speaking of that… Adam folded his arms and added.

  “I had to do something similar. Sort of.”

  He hesitated, glancing between them.

  “That divine energy the system forced into me—it started tearing me apart from the inside. The cursed energy in my body and the divine power couldn’t exist together. I didn’t have the luck of harmonizing them. So I used my parasite to seal it before it killed me.”

  Angela’s mouth twitched faintly in what might have been disgust. At the mention of the word parasite, her expression briefly soured. She didn’t say anything, but the wrinkle of her nose spoke volumes. Adam noticed but said nothing. He only gave the smallest shrug of his shoulders—an unspoken acknowledgment that, yes, it was what it was. He wasn’t proud of it, but it had saved his life. And at this point, that was enough.

  As the group continued discussing the aftermath of their respective situations, the slow stirring of the unconscious members gradually shifted the atmosphere around them. Chloe was the first to show signs of life, groaning softly as she blinked open her eyes, disoriented. Kazue immediately dropped to her side with a relieved gasp, helping her sit up with a hand on her shoulder. The pink-haired girl winced, rubbing the side of her head.

  “What… did I miss?”

  She muttered groggily, then blinked again.

  “Wait—why does it feel like I got sucker-punched by the universe?”

  Not long after, Sebastian let out a sharp cough, his eyes fluttering open with a start. Gregor and Li were already next to him, stabilizing his upper body before he could sit up too quickly. He looked around in confusion, eyes scanning the platform and then focusing on Adam. His voice was hoarse but composed.

  “Did we survive?”

  Gregor gave him a light nod, and he exhaled.

  “Thanks God.”

  Dayana was next, pushing herself upright with a grunt, assisted by Takeshi and André, who had woken a few moments earlier and was still rubbing his temples with a grimace.

  “I feel like I got stepped on by a mammoth… again.”

  Dayana said, her voice low and dry.

  “Someone remind me why we joined this damn vampire reunion again?”

  Takeshi snorted and offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet as he rolled his shoulders, still visibly recovering.

  But none was louder than Jonathan. The sharply dressed, ever-nervous rookie gasped and bolted upright like a man rising from a drowning nightmare, shouting,

  “I didn’t mean to click that—Wait, where am I?”

  His voice echoed off the cracked walls of the ruined chamber. Everyone turned toward him, startled, and he immediately turned red, shrinking in on himself as André patted him on the back with a laugh and told him to breathe. Jonathan mumbled an apology and nodded sheepishly, trying to steady his breathing.

  With everyone now awake and—more or less—functional, the moment to regroup finally arrived. Angela was the one to break the lingering silence, standing tall and adjusting the strap of her satchel as she looked at Adam. Her voice was firm, but not unkind.

  “So… what’s the plan now? We’ve got everyone on their feet and in control over these vampires. What’s our next step?”

  Adam, who had remained seated in quiet contemplation, slowly pushed himself upright and dusted off his coat. He looked around at the faces surrounding him—some pale, some still visibly recovering from the recent chaos, but all attentive.

  “You all saw the system screen. The Hidden Subplot that got triggered. That was number five out of five. The last one. And it’s huge.”

  Takeshi crossed his arms, his tone curious but serious.

  “So… what, we go after the giants now? Try to win them over too?”

  Adam shook his head.

  “No. That’s not it. Not yet. I think we’ve learned by now that these scenario descriptions aren’t metaphorical. They’re more literal than they seem. Every word matters.”

  He took a moment to let that settle before continuing.

  “The wording in this subplot… it clearly stated that this isn’t something we’re meant to create. It’s something already in motion. A plan. A scheme. Orchestrated by someone—or something—that wants to wipe out the Paladins. I don’t think we’re the authors of this path. I think we’re stepping into someone else’s script.”

  Kazue raised her hand slightly as she stepped forward, her expression thoughtful.

  “Wait. That’s… kind of like what happened in the second scenario, right? When we found out the pirates and the government were just pieces being moved by Thaddeus?”

  Adam nodded, while Falk moved on Sebastian’s shoulder, a little uncomfortable after hearing that name.

  “Exactly. Which means we need to be even more careful this time. If we go along with this blindly, we might help the wrong side without realizing it.”

  Drake, who had been quiet throughout the explanation, finally spoke up, his voice calm as always.

  “Then what do we do instead?”

  Adam inhaled deeply, steadying his thoughts.

  “We don’t follow the subplot. Not as it’s written. But that doesn’t mean we ignore it either. If someone is trying to manipulate both the vampires and the giants, then the only way to expose them is to learn more about both sides. We already have the vampires. Now it’s time to understand the giants.”

  Kazue nodded in agreement, her voice firmer now.

  “That makes sense. In the last scenario, we didn’t really understand the world until we had the perspectives of three major characters. The more points of view we get, the clearer the picture becomes.”

  No one objected. There were no sarcastic remarks, no skeptical glances, no tired sighs of protest. Everyone simply nodded, some slowly with arms crossed and brows furrowed in deep thought, others more decisively, driven by the shared instinct that had kept them alive this far. It wasn’t full agreement born from conviction—no, it was understanding. Fragile, quiet, unspoken understanding formed not from trust, but necessity.

  Adam let his gaze linger on each of them for a moment, letting the silence settle. His eyes drifted toward the cracked walls of the ruined cathedral, now emptied of nobility and filled only with the echoes of powers that had nearly destroyed them all. He exhaled deeply, not with fatigue, but with resolve. Then, taking a single step forward without descending from the platform, he raised his hand and activated his transformation skill again, buffing his body once more.

  “It’s almost time. Let’s wait for the Elders and Vampire Lords of Velmoria to return… Oh yeah, we need to ask about Vaelric as well; that was one big surprise.”

  He stood there for a moment, unmoving. This time, he would not be summoned. This time, he would ask the questions—and they would answer.