As the countdown reached its conclusion, a deep darkness enveloped everyone.

When the light returned, they found themselves standing on a bustling street in a foreign land.

Shino blinked in astonishment. "Isn’t this… Queens?"

As he took in his surroundings, prompts appeared before them, detailing their mission:

[Clear Condition (1): Survive for 40 minutes]

[Clear Condition (2): Kill five royals]

[The royals will randomly appear in various locations. Killing them will earn extra rewards.]

Kill five royals?

Shino felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Surviving for 40 minutes seemed a far more attainable goal than hunting down a royal. Fighting a Duke would already be a monumental task, let alone a royal.

Lost in thought, shadows began to shift, and vampires materialized around them.

These vampires were all Blood Fiends, the ninth generation—the weakest of the lot.

One Blood Fiend lunged at Shino, but he reacted instinctively, delivering a swift kick to its head. The creature convulsed before vanishing into nothingness.

Ninth-generation vampires had pitiful recovery abilities; if you severed their limbs, they couldn’t regenerate them. They could only mend small wounds, making them easy prey.

The Blood Fiends attacked in a relentless swarm, their crazed movements reminiscent of a game called "Vampire Survivor," where waves of monsters kept coming.

Shino felt a familiar sensation: hunger gnawed at him once more.

No good…

His eyes flashed a feral red. Dropping to all fours, he pounced on a severed hand, sinking his fangs into it.

Crack!

He bit through the bone, gulping down the blood and flesh, but the taste was nauseating.

“It’s like… rotting flesh.”

He grimaced, forcing himself to swallow the blood. Yet, it barely scratched the surface of his hunger. He would need to drain at least ten of these low-level vampires to feel satisfied.

With that thought, his eyes glowed crimson. He became a wild beast, throwing himself into the fray against the Blood Fiends, tearing at their limbs and drinking deeply from their wounds.

After about five minutes, he finally paused, feeling slightly fuller.

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But the battle was far from over.

Higher-level enemies began to emerge from the chaos—Blood Knights, eighth-generation vampires.

However, Shino, now energized, saw them as mere obstacles. He unleashed his primal instincts, attacking with ferocity.

The Blood Knights wielded razor-sharp claws, scratching at Shino’s skin, but he quickly learned to convert blood into Blood Energy. His vampire heart transformed the stolen life essence into a healing force, mending his wounds almost instantly.

Through the battle, Shino began to experiment, extending his claws into lethal weapons. His nails grew into sharp daggers, slicing through flesh and bone with ease.

He was taken aback by his own power.

“So, I can fight like this?”

Of course he could. He was a Duke, after all, but he was just starting to tap into his true potential.

Each encounter with the low-level vampires helped him adapt and refine his abilities. He learned to spread his wings, sensing the magic of flight coursing through him.

But then the Barons entered the fray. Though seventh-generation vampires, their recovery abilities were formidable, and Shino found himself straining against them.

He soared into the sky, evading their fierce claws, but soon realized that Counts also possessed wings. The air became a battleground.

As he clashed with a group of airborne vampires, the fight intensified. It was challenging, yet Shino held his ground.

As another five minutes ticked by, the tension in the arena escalated with the emergence of Viscounts. These vampires had the chilling ability to control their own blood, shaping it into deadly blades and spears. Though their range was limited, their sheer numbers pressed Shino back, forcing him into a defensive retreat.

“The key is, this is only Viscounts. If Marquesses and Dukes start appearing, I’ll be in serious trouble with my current abilities…” Shino mused, glancing around. The silver lining was that the elite vampires were still few and far between. Most of the foes he faced remained Blood Fiends and Blood Knights.

He observed the Viscounts with a mix of caution and determination. “They can project their blood; there’s no reason I can’t do the same.”

With a concentrated effort, Shino opened his wrist, watching in astonishment as his own blood began to spew forth, scattering aimlessly. He focused his thoughts, feeling an instinctive pull—a sensation of his blood extending, almost as if it were a limb reaching out.

Suddenly, a Viscount charged at him, wielding a blood spear. The sharp tip plunged into Shino's shoulder, eliciting a primal scream of pain.

Splat!

“Aaah!” The pain ignited a fierce determination within him. Gritting his teeth, he forced the blood back inside him, then let it scatter again.

“Focus! Focus!”

With sheer will, he pulled the blood from his wrist, concentrating it into a solid form. To his exhilaration, it shaped itself into a blade. He swung it with newfound skill, slicing the Viscount cleanly in half.

But just as quickly as it solidified, the blood scattered again.

“I’m still not used to it…” he muttered, panting heavily.

As the chaos of battle raged, Shino noted the dynamics of the arena. In this “virtual world,” everyone had been thrown to different locations. While the inexperienced scrambled to fight and flee, the veterans sought shelter in the buildings, rummaging for weapons and supplies.

In this type of tier two map, brute strength alone wouldn't guarantee survival. Tools were essential.

Meanwhile, Ye Gong had found a shotgun, along with a stash of silver bullets. However, these weren’t ordinary silver bullets; they were crafted from Mithril, specifically designed to inflict severe damage on vampires and create wounds that healed slowly, if at all.

Yet, in a painful twist of fate, Ye Gong quickly learned the downside of using Mithril. He had strapped some of the casings to his fists, using them for melee attacks, but the Mithril’s toxicity was taking its toll. He winced as he felt a sharp pain radiate from his hand, realizing the skin was turning black and rotting away.

“I can’t use my hands to hold it!” he cursed, dropping the casings. Abandoning his plan for direct melee attacks, Ye Gong turned his focus to searching for additional bullets.

In this frantic situation, staying in one place was a death sentence. As time passed, however, it became evident that the vampires were growing.