Zhan Shen had been, perhaps understandably, suspicious about his sudden request for blood.
Miles couldn’t even justify feeling offended, because the last time around he had asked for the same, he had tricked the old butler into assisting in his transformation into a Vampire.
Thus, it had taken a few minutes to clarify that that was not the case right now, or an attempt to satiate his thirst, and more about using different blood sources for experimentation.
After all, Haruka did say ‘they were welcome to use whatever’. Since she had failed to be specific, Miles was going to assume that the Faesycian’s supply of blood was entirely at their disposal. However, that had come with its own unique set of problems.
Consuming blood from an outer city ripper-doc without any knowledge on who or where the blood had come from was a line that Miles was not willing to cross.
Fortunately, Cadmus had proven to be invaluable here, weaving through a low-level backdoor to breach into the rather ineptly secured Capital Corp. Outer City Medical Database. It was surprising how many law-abiding citizens had provided in-detail health records to the trustworthy corporation, to whom patient privacy was obviously a priority...
Not.
Well, Miles didn’t care, for it worked to his benefit, as all Cadmus needed to do now was cross-reference this patient data with those of the blood donors.
It was a bit troublesome that blood bags labeled with standardized health information were not the norm, the majority using nothing more than a sticker with a scrawled-on blood type and a ‘believe-it’ expiry date, Miles making sure to steer clear of those.
And even when cross-analysis was actually feasible, Miles' perfectly average and definitely ordinary standards meant that any donor with less than stellar health records, that did not provide the gourmet equivalent of blood, were avoided.
All that considered, It should’ve been a fairly time-consuming process, but with Cadmus efficiently handling the bulk of the work, a fraction of an hour was all it took to provide him with far too much medical information on the blood donors.
That was how Miles found himself where he was, lying awkwardly against the embossed metal of the Lefayescan once more, staring at a wheeled table he had pulled over to be within arm's reach. Or more specifically, the small black bag placed upon it.
It was half-open, revealing a metallic interior that wafted out clouds of cold vapor. This was a type of portable refrigeration carrier, filled with the blood bags Cadmus had deemed to satisfy his requirements.
Eighteen blood bags were placed within, categorized based on varying degrees of freshness and blood type, the final three being particularly unique.
Miles was eyeing the most recent of the bags of blood, sourced directly from a stubborn butler who had insisted. Even as he sloshed the bag around, the transparent plastic bag of blood type A+ felt unusually heavy in his hands.
Despite his relative success so far, even this very moment, Miles found himself needing to exert conscious effort to restrain the desire to tear into this blood bag, to gorge on the liquid that he instinctively knew would scratch the dry itch pervading his body.
He had tried gulping air for the last few minutes, attempting to train himself to resist the urge, or at least lessen it.
It had not helped.
Yet, something continued to restrain him. The frayed yet unbroken thread that was his sense of reason perhaps.
Well, that and Zhan Shen who had and was still eyeing him with tactlessly unhidden suspicion.
The old butler was not at all pleased.
Even though Miles had proved that Vampirism was not unstable and that it would not lead to a self-collapsing implosion by over-exceeding Faetality, the old butler was stuck in the opinion that it would be 'problematic'.
He didn't disagree. Sure, it could be problematic, but...
It could also be effective, and it had been.
Miles would not have fared so well in the altercation with the dozen Hakuryuu runts had it not been for Vampirism. The sense of touch of his Enhanced Senses acting almost as a sixth sense, and Unconditional Undeath being the only reason he no longer had a hole in his shoulder.
Zhan Shen was even better aware of this, but it didn't seem to mean that the old butler would be happy about it.
Miles narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular, it hadn't taken long to realize he was stalling.
He was stalling, to hold off from drinking the blood.
A troubled hand pulled through his hair.
A part of Miles knew there was no reason to stew over this so much. He had already drunk blood, a few drops of Zhan Shen’s own.
The blood he consumed next would only be beneficial, strengthening his lifeline that was Conditional Undeath, becoming the fuel that gave it power.
But another part of him knew that back then, back then, he had still been human. He had been alive.
This would be different.
He could feel it, the anticipation, the expectation…
Miles shook his head clear, focusing on his breathing.
Since it was an emotional quandary that was holding him back, Miles just stopped thinking and forced himself ahead.
The bag was almost torn open, as he tilted his head back, and the moment the blood hit his tongue…
Miles knew he had been right.
This was completely different.
He almost gagged, eyes-widening in surprise, but never stopped drinking, not until what remained in his hands was a flat, flabby piece of plastic.
Blood tasted nothing like the jarring combination of iron and metal it had been before. No, this was downright delicious.
Fortunately, it wasn’t ‘out of this world’. Miles could imagine himself living without it, as the blood was at most, merely on par with the best culinary he had ever had the fortune of eating.
The relevant notifications followed.
Ding!
[1 BP (Blood Point) gained.]
Ding!
[Personal BP restored to 8/10]
‘Hmm, the average blood bag contains about 500 ml? Which is once again approximately a pint, so getting a blood point for a pint is as expected.’
Despite the ‘decent' taste, what made blood remarkable, perhaps even irreplaceable, was the fact that it had satisfied the uncomfortable thirst that had been nagging him for the last few hours…
Perhaps Miles had been lost in that feeling of comfort, as it was only after he had autonomously reached for the next blood bag, when he was on the very verge of ripping into it, that he realized what he was doing.
Miles hurried to restrain himself, dropping the blood bag like a piece of scalding metal.
Deep breaths.
‘I’m in control. I’m replenishing the blood points. Not going blood crazed... again. I'm not drinking blood like a beast gone feral...’
It took a few moments for Miles to reaffirm control and feel reassured enough to take back the blood bag. A glance revealed that this one was just three days old, blood type A-. With a focused breath, he ripped in.
Ding!
[1 BP gained.]
[Personal BP restored to 9/10]
Feeling the dryness and the discomfort decrease even more, Miles sighed in welcome relief. More careful this time, he reached for another. Five days old, blood type B+.
Ding!
[1 BP gained.]
[Personal BP fully restored to 10/10]
The empty plastic bag crumpled as Miles slapped it onto the side of the Lefayescan.
Finally.
He felt good. Whole, sated, and–right.
Miles was comfortable in a way he had forgotten he could be.
'Holy hells, this–this is nice.'
No longer did he have to suppress the discomfort or ignore the unruly thoughts he could not believe were born of his own mind.
Miles was more than just a bit comforted by the knowledge that he would be back to himself once the blood points were fully replenished.
Yet, a traitorous part of his mind couldn’t let it go.
How much control of himself would he lose, if he had lost more blood? More than just 3 blood points?
If it had already been this challenging…
Miles shook his head clear. That was a problem for a different time.
Hoping to distract himself, he set his sights on the Omnisight and the FRI scans that had been chained into an animation by Cadmus while he had been focusing on drinking the blood.
Strangely enough, the FRIs seemed to have sensed nothing from the blood entering his stomach and digestive system.
Instead, the unseen blood that should have been in his stomach, had spontaneously manifested in his circulatory system automatically added to the blood within, the actual process of transfer going undetected by the Lefayescan.
Moreover, the drinking of blood and fully replenishing his Personal Blood Points had resulted in a noticeable change in the blood energy. The vivid red of the blood in his veins had brightened, but when observed in the FRI animation, the intensity and voraciousness of the blood had reduced significantly.
It was an obvious conclusion that the amount of blood available had an effect on the flow of the energy, perhaps even being related to the thirst he had been suffering from.
Musing on the implications of the revelations, Miles moved on to considering the effects of the differences in the blood bags he had drunk so far.
The blood being three days older seemed to have led to no noticeable change, along with no virtual difference despite the change in blood type, but this wasn’t nearly sufficient to arrive at any useful conclusion on the subject.
More experimentation was necessary.
But before he did, Miles shifted his attention, scrutinizing the skill he had attempted to use, unsuccessfully, multiple times now.
[Skills: Haemomancy - {Ripae Sanguine (Blood Bank) - Inferior}]
If the skill was ever going to have any effect, now would be the time. Expectant, Miles reached for another blood bag, this one being seven days old, type B-.
Ding!
[1 BP gained.]
[Stored in Blood Bank: 1/100]
Miles' eyes widened, a grin creeping into his face. At long last, there was an effect from the silent skill!
‘So it’s an actual bank for blood! 10 blood points, roughly equivalent to about 5 liters of blood undoubtedly referring to the personal blood in my body. Thus, anything additional, up to 100 points, would be stored here in this bank.’
Nevertheless, he had to wonder.
‘Would it have been so difficult to explain the specifics of this skill through the system the moment I gained the skill? Like the Newborn class was explained in detail?’
Miles pursed his lips.
Perhaps he was overreacting, but was it really so much to include explanations for the skills given by a seemingly omnipotent, omniscient system? It was almost as if it had been designed to make things more difficult than was needed.
Nevertheless, Miles was still very satisfied with the effects of Ripae Sanguine. Simply put, with a fully filled 100/100 blood bank, this was equivalent to an additional 10 lives!
Forget the nine lives of the Felinei, the Vampire Blood Bank went for the win!
Well, assuming, the conversion ratio between blood points and health points was uniform that is. Miles wasn’t exactly sure, but from what he had seen from his regeneration, it wasn't one-to-one.
However, the most interesting observation was what had been detected by the FRIs during the process.
Which was nothing. Just nothing, as there seemed to be no change in his faesiology, nothing to notice.
The chained FRI animation only showed the standard motion in the blood energy, and even Cadmus confirmed there had been no comparative change in the blood energy itself.
They could only assume that whatever unseen process had transferred the blood in his stomach to his veins, had worked once more, except this time the final location was different. Presumably transferring the consumed blood to the Blood Bank, wherever or whatever that was.
Realizing that this was an inexplicable feature of his supernatural physique, and was a mystery that could not be solved with a simple Lefayescan FRI, Miles decided to move on.
Since the Ripae Sanguine skill could even help him control his hunger for blood, he felt rather justified in filling himself up on blood bags. So, Miles continued, selecting blood bags in increasing order of date sourced, while still varying the type.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Ding!
[4 BP gained.]
[Stored in Blood Bank: 5/100]
By now, he had already tested all eight blood types, and yet there had been no visible difference in the results due any of them. His blood points had replenished accordingly, and that had been all.
‘Blood type is irrelevant then. That is confirmed. But what of the sourced date? So far nothing but we’ll see.’
Miles continued, now ignoring the blood type and only considering the date.
Three bags of blood and nothing had changed with the results, his blood points had continued to rise.
Ding!
[3 BP gained.]
[Stored in Blood Bank: 8/100]
But the moment he tasted a blood bag exceeding the 20th day, Miles felt a change.
Ding!
[1 BP gained.]
[Stored in Blood Bank: 9/100]
The change was in the taste. He could feel the age in the blood. Old, almost rusty, and considerably more unappetizing, but not to the point that he couldn’t ignore it.
‘Ugh, terrible. Tastes like someone dumped rotten cyberware in perfectly good soup.
‘But the result is quite interesting. Doesn't the efficiency of oxygen delivery by red blood cells diminish around the third week? Could that be what is affecting the taste? Very possible, but if that is so…'
With only a moment’s pause, Miles continued to consume the blood bags. As the blood grew older, the taste continued to worsen, but at least the blood point gain continued.
Ding!
[2 BP gained.]
[Stored in Blood Bank: 11/100]
Miles was absolutely appalled by the flavor of that last blood bag, tasting his mouth to see if it would ever leave. Still, he shifted his gaze towards the final of the fifteen. This one happened to be over 45 days old.
‘That significantly exceeds the typical storage duration of a blood bag maintained under optimal conditions. Which means, there should be a deviation from the norm here...'
But just as he ripped out the top of the bag, a putrid odor assailed his nostrils, almost reminiscent of the decaying corpses from the alleyways of Yumekuro.
Miles really didn’t want to consume this, but compelled himself to, reassured that this was in the pursuit of science, and somehow managed to swallow a mouthful.
Ding!
[Toxic blood(lesser) consumed.]
[-0.3 BP gained. Negligible, not considered.]
Even as the notifications came in, Miles was sputtering. The blood was utterly repugnant, like the former rotten cyberware soup had been garnished with... death.
‘...It was a good lesson at least.’
However, the repulsive taste lingered persistently over his taste buds.
Unable to overcome the trauma of the atrocious blood, Miles hurled himself off the Lefayescan and rushed to grab one of Zhan Shen’s outer city canned drinks. Most of them were of the brand ‘Boundless Energy,’ supposedly produced by Vulcan Corp. the world-class weapons manufacturer, if the label were to be believed.
Miles couldn't care less and guzzled it down, but even a good serving of artificial chemicals failed to completely wash off the taste, the unnaturally strong flavor only helping to weaken the taste of rotten blood.
It only made him even more exasperated with the situation, wishing for a glass of good wine. But how could an outer city Faesycian possibly have anything on par with a glass of Clurichaun?
He could only sigh in defeat.
Zhan Shen who had been watching everything, was seemingly amused, “What? I know very well how picky you are with your ‘cuisine’ Master Miles, but who knew it would carry over to blood as well? Some things never change,” and nodded sagely.
Miles scoffed, annoyed by the fact that the old butler had somehow managed to read his thoughts, even as he broke into another can of the terrible energy drink, “It’s called having a refined palate old Zhan, not like you ever understood, and no, that blood was just purely bad.”
As if to make a point, he took the still almost full bag of expired blood and dropped it into a container of what he believed was clinical waste disposal.
Zhan Shen shrugged, “Let’s ignore the Vampire who can’t handle some expired blood, but Master Miles, your successful experiments with blood aside, it is almost dawn…”
Miles paused, mid-swig of the energy drink.
Time had passed and it was officially the next day. It was just that from inside this windowless sealed clinic, he had failed to notice.
Miles glanced at his pale skin, rubbing his hands for a moment. The rotten flavor in his mouth felt even worse now, but with a deep breath, he dropped the half-empty can into the waste disposal.
“Very well old Zhan, let us face the music, or rather, the Sun.”
***
Miles walked after the elderly butler, having exited the clinic through the back door, entering a small, cramped alleyway.
Even if it was a different district altogether, it was still the outer city, easily causing Miles' nose to crinkle in disgust once more.
At least it was devoid of heaps of discarded corpses. He supposed a ripper-doc clinic that had a mountain of dead behind it would not inspire confidence in potential customers.
Miles had donned a simple yet classy hat that covered his face in a comforting shade. It was from old Zhan for he was not a hat person in general, but the circumstances had warranted it.
He had also worn his personal gloves, covering his hands entirely in sleek and minimalist dark goblin leather. It was not a functional piece, and mostly a fashion statement. Today however, it would be serving a purpose.
With these two additions, there were no longer any exposed areas of his body or skin. A simple precautionary measure to avoid or lessen the worst-case scenario.
Miles glanced around, noting that while it was not the break of dawn just yet, the dancing aurorial lights in the sky were beginning to fade away, chased away by the soon to ascend sun. It was the faded light of a soon-to-be morning that illuminated the area instead.
In tacit agreement, their eyes fell upon a nearby dumpster, a dark green metallic affair, more of a box than anything else. It was perfectly placed at the end of this alleyway, directly between the walls of the ripper-doc’s clinic and the walls of another unremarkable building.
They didn’t speak, both thinking the same, but Miles moved first.
With a graceful bound and further movements fuelled by the Nameless Movement Art he pounced onto the dumpster, from it grabbed onto the ledge of the clinic building, and with a single arm easily pulled himself over.
Miles had held onto the hat with his other hand, but had still managed the fairly impressive feat of acrobatics.
Except… Zhan Shen had somehow beaten him because by the time Miles was looking around, the elderly butler was already pacing over the roof, far ahead of him.
Miles could only shake his head, as his eyes returned to the location he found himself in.
If the sight of concrete ridden with fae fungi and the occasional dead animal wasn’t enough of a sign, it was obvious this was not a rooftop that was meant to be reached.
Haruka’s Faetastic Emporium was a building with a single floor, which meant that while they stood upon it, the majority of the nearby buildings were tall enough to shelter their location from the sun to a considerable extent. It wasn’t perfect cover, but there would be enough shadows for Miles to retreat to.
Time passed mostly in silence as Zhan Shen stood still observing the sun rise, while Miles paced around under the shadows.
He was… not feeling optimistic about the experiment, confident that had his heart been alive, it would have been beating like a drum. Even his hands felt unusually clammy, leading him to rub the palms a little too often.
Try as he might, Miles couldn’t shake off the feeling of being somewhere he shouldn’t be, observing a domain that was now no longer his.
But, he shook off those weak thoughts, tampering down over the familiar emotion… fear.
Eager to distract himself, Miles set his sights beyond the rooftop they currently found themselves in.
With enhanced vision and this elevated positioning, he could witness the outer city District of Hamelin and its transformation through the morning.
While the sunlight was nerve inducing for him, for the mutated variants of birds, their alien cries adding a unique tune to the waking city, it was a new beginning.
Miles had sought a distraction, and those birds were plenty distracting.
A flock of heartless starlings fought with each other, raining feathers, despite the fact that they had just woken up, their cries and screeches a cacophony.
The devil’s pigeons joined in soon enough, not to fight, but to aggressively and systematically pick off the weaker of the starlings, swiftly feeding on the screaming birds like the devils they were.
A three eyed raven, a species supposedly endemic to the region of Capital City, observed wisely and silently from a discrete perch on the ceiling of a nearby building.
The birds were loud, but their noises were familiar, even to Miles who had lived in the Inner City for the majority of his life.
It was interesting to note that while these birds had awoken, the same was not true for the city as a whole.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Miles was in an area where most buildings had little windows, but the expected hustle and bustle of a waking city was markedly absent.
Either it was still too early for most, that, or the people were taking the war with the orcs outside in the Everglades quite seriously. After all, it wasn’t rare for straggling fae to sneak into the city over the outer wall and slaughter a few dozen people before the Knight Corps were summoned.
Miles didn’t care much, not at the moment, for his rapt attention was on the golden light that had painted the sky in hues of orange and red.
Soon enough, the streaks of sunlight appeared over the building they stood upon, one particular ray just directly before where Miles stood.
It was time.
He could just reach out to touch it, if he wanted…
“Well? Are you going to do it, or not? Time shall not change the results,” the annoying voice of a certain butler rang out. Zhan Shen was standing in the direct sunlight, completely unaffected, as if in challenge.
Miles hated to admit it, but the old butler had a point.
There was that instinct, warning him, telling him not to enter the sunlight–but with a focused exhale, he slowly and carefully dipped his left hand into the sunlight, the leather of the gloves glistening under the illumination…
And, nothing happened.
Miles continued to hold the hand for a few minutes, but still, nothing changed.
There was a bare feeling of heat, but it was so slight he wasn’t even sure if it was just natural.
Miles couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief.
At least he knew that indirect contact with the sun was safe. Even in the worst case scenario he could consider wearing a full body leather suit or something of the sort.
Pulling back the unaffected hand, next, Miles removed the glove upon it.
Even before he placed his hand within the sunlight again, the skin prickled, hair rising almost in warning. But again, Miles pushed past it and placed his hand into the sunlight.
A few seconds passed, and nothing happened.
There was that persistent sense of discomfort, of instinctual danger, but little else.
Miles’ hand did not spontaneously combust, nor did it feel weakened, or god forbid, started to sparkle.
It was strange to be honest, he had expected something–
When suddenly, the hand trembled beyond his conscious control, and a searing heat wracked through bone and flesh.
With a pained yelp, Miles pulled back his hand, hurriedly checking for injuries.
Scorching heat rippled through his blood vessels, as if a plunderer had entered inside of him to ravage and pillage. The effect had been entirely internal, but for a moment there, he could swear his skin had been heated to the point it had flashed red.
The system responded with a series of notifications.
Ding!
[Cursed {Third: Sol’s Hatred} Celestian Sol demands payment from all Vawul that enter his domain.
As a Newborn, the remnants of your humanity lessens the cost.
Skill: S̴e̴l̷f̶-̸C̵o̷n̸t̶r̷o̷l̵(̶?̶)̸Haemomancy Lvl. 0 lessens(?) the cost.
Title: Balanced? further lessens the cost.]
Ding!
[-0.1 BP (Negligible. Not considered.)
Total Blood Points remaining: 10/10 + 14/100.]
[Celestian Sol accepts your sacrifice.]
‘Well, shit. As expected, Sol’s hatred is indeed the Sun’s hatred.’
He was to all intents and purposes, ostracized from walking around in the day.
But, he had been expecting a completely different result. Not some sort of blood tax. One which had even been lessened because of Newborn, the Haemomancy derived from Zhan Shen’s Self-Control, and the title Balanced?
Miles couldn’t help but spare a curious glance at the Sun above. Even from the safety of the shadows, the very sight gave rise to fear, and he shifted his eyes away.
‘Celestian Sol. Does that actually refer to the Roman personification and God of the Sun? Does the system mean to say that Gods are real? Or is this just another instance of using Latin for no functional reason?’
Miles crossed his arms as he tapped his foot, deep in thought, ‘And what is this strange glitch impairing the mention of Self Control? It’s almost as if the System is confused? Is that even possible?’
Dragging him out of his thoughts, Zhan Shen posed a question, “I take that didn’t go well?”
Miles heaved a conflicted sigh, staring at his pale hand. It had now returned almost entirely to normal along with the faded pain, “Yes, it did not, but it also is not that bad.
“Hold on, let me see how Sol reacts when I step in entirely, but am not exposed to the sun…”
Miles pulled on the glove he had just removed, tightened the hat over his head, and…
He couldn’t bring himself to take that last step forward.
It was a single step that separated him from the safety of the shadows and the glaring heat of Sol’s sunlight, but it felt uncrossable.
What was before him was a simple, common thing, a ray of sunlight, but it felt… so, so wrong.
Like when one would find a massive pile of giant feces, there was no way you would step in it, right?
This was similar, a mixture of disgust and fear.
Zhan Shen let out a discrete cough, “Has your undeath made you a coward Master Miles? To the extent that you fear, recoil and run away from pain?”
Miles released a nervous breath, the harsh words from the old butler helping him get a handle on his emotions. He tapped a loose fist against his heart in gratitude and furrowed his brows, “...No.”
His mind made up, Miles pushed past his instincts, past the disgust and fear… and stepped into the light.
He held his breath, almost afraid to let it out.
The glaring morning sunlight bore down upon his suit, gloves and hat…
Miles was tense, prepared to dash out the moment the heat began to burn him, and it did, though so considerably less, compared to what he had been expecting, that he was waiting for it to get worse.
It was akin to a light pinprick, a slight agitation that rifled through his blood vessels, but that was about it.
It was stifling and painful on some level, Miles could almost feel his blood vanishing as payment, but it was meager enough to be ignored.
A few minutes passed, the initial fear long gone by now, ‘This is good enough, as long as Sunlight does little for as long as I’m well covered, I can handle it.’
Miles allowed himself another half an hour of basking in the sun, until he was bored enough by standing still that he returned to the shadows.
Almost immediately, the system notification came.
Ding!
[Cursed {Third: Sol’s Hatred} Celestian Sol demands payment from all Vawul for the duration they remain within his domain.
As a Newborn, the remnants of your humanity lessens the cost.
Skill: S̴e̴l̷f̶-̸C̵o̷n̸t̶r̷o̷l̵(̶?̶)̸Haemomancy Lvl. 0 lessens(?) the cost
Title: Balanced? further lessens the cost.
Celestian Sol grants mercy to the Vawul who respect and fear his might, garbing and hiding their corrupted flesh from the touch of divine light, further lessening the cost.]
Ding!
-0.01 BP. (Negligible. Not considered)
Total Blood Points remaining: 10/10 + 14/100.
Celestian Sol accepts your sacrifice. ]
From the phrasing in the notification, it seemed that this Sol either had a point to prove or severe power posturing to be done.
Regardless, Miles was relieved to know that he could to at least some extent survive under the sun.
He would be quite literally cooked if he exposed himself to the sunlight, but while well covered he could survive.
Miles began to pace under the shadows of the building again, stewing in the implications of these revelations.
First was Celesitan Sol or the Sun, the personification of the celestial body revealed to be an overzealous blood tax collector overseeing the Vampires’ weakness to sunlight.
Next came the reasons for lessening the ‘tax’ cost.
The same as before, they were Newborn, Self-Control, Balanced?, and now apparently, clothing to avoid direct contact with the sun.
All these reasons seemed to carry a common theme, of being less Vawul, of being less a feral creature, the kind the Vampire he had encountered in the mansion was, or even what he himself had become in the fight with the Hakuryuu.
Then there was the effect of Self-Control(?), a title that had initially been rejected by the Vawulan System on the grounds that it did not align with the path of the Vawul, and later shifted into Haemomancy.
Yet, for some reason Celestian Sol seemed to think the original skill still existed, citing it as a reason for a further waiver of his blood tax payment. It seemed possible that the basis under which Sol segregated those who entered his domain was not entirely about Vampirism, but something else.
‘Does that mean for any other Vawul who isn’t Newborn, who does not have Self-Control or Balanced, the blood tax would be worse? If it’s any more than this, assuming that they don’t have a fully replenished Blood Bank, wouldn’t they just dry up in a few minutes?’
Miles couldn’t help but thank old Zhan and whatever spiritual mojo he carried in his blood that had led to him being blessed with all these useful titles and skills.
Yet, even with those advantages, he was vulnerable to the Sun. If his clothes got damaged or ripped, Miles would begin to lose blood all over again.
To finish this experiment perfectly, he would have to venture out into the sunlight with minimal covering, but he figured he already had a good enough idea of what would happen if he did, not to mention the limited amount of drinkable blood remaining.
So… Miles passed over the self-inflicted torture of being boiled under the sun.
When they returned to the inner city, Miles fully intended to drag out a Faesiology Analysis Cubicle into the sun and experiment further, but as of right now, he didn’t believe that the ripper-doc would be very conducive to such an attempt.
Not to mention setting the cubicle on the rooftop would be a massive pain.
Thus for now, experimentation with the sunlight was complete.