Jules Gailen enjoyed his . The inhabitants of Lakeside were scared to go out at night; even the Watchmen were wary of him. He stalked the town like a living shadow, striking terror into the hearts of all. His killings had risen into the double digits; twelve murders, though he hadn’t been able to level since the night he arrived. Apparently his Class hungered for more challenging targets.

The two-inch thick, padlocked door of the Midnight Star, a basement speakeasy and premier location for shady and unscrupulous activities, shivered, then bent inward, then splintered, with the assorted and within going for various weapons or diving under the tables in the dimly lit, smokey common area.

A man in ragged clothes, his back bent, prowled across the room, moving at an unnaturally fast pace. Jules leapt over the bar and gutted the bartender before he could react, feeling the familiar warmth of wet blood as it stained his hands.

That was easy. The bouncer was more difficult; practiced, and with experience fighting in such close confines with such poor lighting. It ended with the two of them wrestling on the floor, Jules holding a broken beer bottle to the man’s throat. Another potential victim approached from behind, slamming a broken table leg into the back of Jules’ skull. His head spun, and he let go of the bouncer, who promptly threw him onto the ground and stomped him in the ribs.

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As the would-be victims quickly turned into the assailants, blood pooled around Jules. He could feel his life leaving him, his bones cracking, his heart palpitating. In a moment, something snapped.

Level 16!

Talent Advancement!

<🩸Revel In Bloodshed🩸> 🠊 <🩸Overpowering Bloodlust🩸>

When the guards finally investigated the disturbance the next morning, they found every inch of the space splattered with blood and gore, from the floor to ceiling. It proved difficult to identify any of the victims.