1% Lifesteal

Freddy had lived his life believing that, for men, looks were utterly irrelevant. Ultimately, the number on the bank statement, status, and owned property mattered the most.

However, as he, a relatively poor, low-status man, sat surrounded by women who were, by how they spoke, definitely from wealthy families, he was forced to update his worldview ever so slightly.

No matter how many fuck-ups he made, his looks seemed to be enough to give him a free pass. Even after he said awfully cringy stuff, some of which had caused him to physically recoil, they simply giggled it away and changed the subject.

Recently, he had grown aware that he had become drastically more handsome, even if he wasn’t all that pretty face-wise. But as the night went on, he realized he had underestimated himself. A lot. Whatever these girls wanted, he had it, and no matter how hard he tried to repel them with his aura of virginity, they were going to get it.

The anxiety gave him itchy hands, and he reached for a drink every so often to take the edge off. As one drink after another went down his throat, it didn’t take long for all the liquid to force a visit to the toilet.

John, who was also busy doing his thing, did his best to explain how to find it, but… it wouldn’t be easy.

Freddy excused himself and got up, shoving his way through the crowd as he went on the mission. Pushing past the mass of people was damn tricky, and his size, as well as the alcohol coursing through his veins, didn’t make it any easier, but he seemed to be making progress—

Until a sudden, powerful strike to the back of his head made the entire world go dark.

***

Mark returned home only to find his family there, surprised that he had returned so soon. They seemed relieved to see his arm still attached to his body and tried comforting him, but he barely heard anything they said. Their voices sounded like they were coming from behind a closed door, and the sound of distant ringing muffled them further.

He pushed past them, walked to his room, went inside, and locked the door behind him. The large bedroom echoed with the locking of his door, and he walked over to the bed. Soon, the blankets were wrapped tight around him, and he sweated profusely, unable to pull his head out of the covers.

The endless pounding of his heart was the only thing he could hear as the mountainous weight of his sin settled on his back.

“Oh, God…” he spat, clasping his mouth shut as his eyes shot open and a profound desire to vomit raged in his gut. He shook and shivered, his teeth clattering as the ringing got louder.

“What have I done?”

***

Matt Canstone appeared in the private booth where Madame was seated.

The guests were already dispersing as Madame held her ear to a contact crystal, listening to a message.

“Madame—” he said, but she interrupted him.

“When?” she asked curtly.

“Ten minutes ago,” the man answered. “He went to the toilet but disappeared among the crowds. None of the guards spotted him leaving the premises.”

She scowled. “I just got news of several men breaking into the apartment we provided him with. They flipped the whole place upside down and even went through the woods he exercised in.”

Matt pondered it for a moment. “I believe they—”

“They shouldn’t have any proof,” she spat as she bit her nails. “I couldn’t find any evidence myself, and we’ve been watching over him for—” Suddenly, her eyes shot wide open as she remembered something. Her jaw clenched, and she bit her nail clean off. “So that’s what he told his trainer…”

Matt stood silently, keeping his posture straight and waiting. Soon enough, she pulled a communication crystal out of her storage device and selected one of the contacts.

The crystal buzzed briefly until a cheerful voice rang through it. “Madame! Dear! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, Harold. I have some news that might interest you.”

“Oh?” the man said. “What happened?”

“Freddy Stern was taken.”

A few moments of silence elapsed until a sigh came through the crystal. “Let me guess, Kraven?”

“Indeed,” she confirmed. “They seem to be rather confident that he has something they want.” Her jaw clenched even harder. “Didn’t you say you already took measures to prevent them from overreaching?”

“I did!” he said. “This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you!”

She gritted her teeth hard enough that they creaked, but she forced herself to relax. “Well, then. Am I allowed to surmise that you’re in the mood to uphold the law?”

“Well,” he started, “I suppose I don’t really have a choice.”

“How’s five minutes from now sound?” she asked.

“Meet you at their premises!” And with that, he hung up.

Madame gripped the crystal so tightly that it shattered, and she looked up at her assistant. “We are leaving immediately.”

She left her seat and rushed toward the nearest window, showcasing superhuman speed. She opened the window and jumped out. Matt seemingly disappeared behind her as he shifted into the darkness of the night, moving across the buildings.

On the other hand, she morphed her arms into gigantic wings and took flight, soaring above the city as she beelined straight toward the headquarters of the Kraven Clan.

***

“Go to the planned location and wait for the next two hours,” Janhalar said to one of his disciples, a young woman. “In that time, the outcome will be decided.”

She nodded, and with that, she ran off.

The entire Kraven Clan was in an uproar. Alarms were blaring, members were rushing deeper into the safety of the underground bunker, and all of their operations were grinding to a halt as they contacted all members outside the premises.

Three elders stepped up and knelt before the patriarch. A tall, lithe woman and two men, one bulky and young in appearance, the other elderly and frail. All of them were hardened warriors of the Kraven Clan, wearing the signature clothing and tattoos of elite members.

These would be the elders who would fight beside him. All three of them were specialized for close-quarters combat. They were neither the strongest nor the most important members of their clan, but they were all he was allowed to take.

Conflict between Lords was commonplace, as was only natural. But the empress would have them slaughtered like pigs if they waged all-out wars and collapsed entire cities in disputes.

He didn’t like his odds with just them by his side, but he hadn’t come without a plan, either. While he loathed to use it, he had an ace up his sleeve that would ensure he got his way, even though it would come at great cost to his clan’s operations.

Even then, it would be well worth it if he could get his hands on the remnant.

In less than a few minutes, the premises were deathly quiet.

A slight tremor shook the ground beneath him as if on cue, and the echoes of their front gate landing in the middle of the courtyard followed soon after.

“Do not fear your destiny,” he told his elders as he turned to face them. “We are facing Basilisk and the Scorched Fleshmancer.

“Prepare yourselves to die.”

***

“You arrived faster than I expected, Madame!” Basilisk greeted Madame cheerfully in his standard disarming tone.

They found themselves right in front of the entrance to the Kraven compound. A large, metallic gate barred entry into it, dyed partly red in the shape of a silhouette of the mythical “vampire,” a creature taking the form of a poshly dressed man wearing an extravagant cloak. A wall of red-tinged stone surrounded the entire area.

It would be trivial for either of them to jump over the barrier, but she thought it would be best to send a message.

Without a response to Basilisk’s greeting, she kicked the metallic gate. Although it was more of a decoration than a proper defensive barrier, the fact that she could send the several-ton-heavy gate flying as if it were made of Styrofoam made even Harold gulp.

In a matter of seconds, followed by an entourage of three powerful three-star archs, the patriarch appeared.

His pale skin highlighted the numerous red lines marking his face. “Basilisk, Scorched Fleshmancer,” he greeted them. “Welcome.”

Madame scoffed. “Refrain from using that infantile monicker when addressing me, Bloodlord.”

“I would prefer you used my true name as well, Narcisse,” he shot back.

“So,” Basilisk butted in, “you should already know why we’re here. Hand the young man over and pay a fine of—”

“You lied to me, bastard,” the patriarch said. “Don’t think I will forget that.”

“Okay, first of all—” Harold started, but before he could get far, Madame raised her hand and interrupted him.

“What did he lie to you about?”

The patriarch sneered. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Madame frowned for a fraction of a second.

The bloody arch scoffed. “You have become rusty, Narcisse,” he jabbed.

“Okay!” Basilisk loudly interrupted them, stepping in between them. “None of this is relevant to the problem at hand. Janhalar, I was rather clear when I gave you the warning. Besides, kidnapping? Do you know the kind of disaster your transgression will cause if it becomes public knowledge? You can’t just do whatever you want.”

Janhalar clenched his fist with his right hand and lifted two fingers on his left. In response to his gesture, the three elders behind him moved in front, readying themselves for battle.

“I promise you,” Harold threatened, “going through with this is a bad idea.” He shot a quick glance at the fuming woman beside him.

Despite an involuntary wince betraying that he was well aware of the danger, Janhalar steeled himself. “You know damn well it’s worth it for what’s at stake—” His words were interrupted as the lithe woman standing to his side barely blocked a spike of bone-like material as it was about to penetrate his eye.

She did so with her unprotected hand and now couldn’t take the bolt out, no matter how hard she pulled.

Madame’s arm had morphed, moving her bones in a configuration that created an improvised crossbow, with her tendon acting as a string and a shard of her bone as the projectile.

A bead of sweat dripped down Janhalar’s neck. All three elders pulled out curved twin daggers, with the woman only managing to hold one due to her injury. Basilisk shook his head, preparing himself to fight. The atmosphere around them grew tense. All six of the people present were poised to strike, and soon enough, the needle dropped.

The ground beneath the Kraven fighters’ feet morphed into stone serpents, but it wasn’t long until they were dashing out of the way, clearly prepared to face such tactics. The bodies of all three elders turned red, with the tell-tale bulging veins appearing along the surface of their skin as they all triggered Blood Rush.

With a loud twang, several more bolts of bone came rushing at them, and while they managed to block most of them, the bulky elder received one of the projectiles directly to his left rib, groaning with pain.

Janhalar’s pores seeped out blood, and it wasn’t long until it coagulated into a full-body armor surrounding him and javelins that he threw with intimidating speed at his opponents.

Basilisk’s skin was soon covered in stone scales to help him defend himself from the incoming projectiles, but Madame seemingly had no issue dodging the overbearing barrage, and even while avoiding it, she managed to push forward, making her way to the elder, who received a bolt to the ribs. His gait was uncertain, and it wouldn’t take much for Madame to catch up with him.

The tall, lithe woman whose hand had been pierced reacted immediately and rushed to her comrade’s help, but the soil beneath her shifted. A gigantic head of a snake appeared below her, its jaws spread wide and ready to bite down on her body. Reacting instantly, she jumped, but that wouldn’t be enough to avoid a four-star arch’s attack while already caught in it.

The serpent’s jaws slammed shut, and the woman’s legs were cleaved clean off, just slightly below the knees. She tried to scream, but it took only a moment for Madame to reach her.

Her hand injured and her legs gone, the elder lifted a dagger, her body raging with the intense pulsing of her heart, but that meager defense went thoroughly ignored as Madame slammed sharp claws directly into her torso. Just as the woman’s soul abandoned her body, a pulse was sent in its stead.

With loud snaps and the sound of flesh stretching to the breaking point, the woman’s body morphed into a freakish biomass roughly in the shape of a monster with two bulky arms. Using its unwieldy limbs, the creature shambled toward the patriarch.

An angry snarl escaped Janhalar’s lips as he repelled a stone serpent head with a giant spear, but it was caught in his throat as Madame picked up the abomination she had created the way a little girl picked up her doll and threw it with such speed that he could barely raise a defense.

“Patriarch!” the skinny old man yelled, and the mass of flesh began to glow.

“Crap!” Janhalar yelled as he moved his arms before him to block; just in time as the corpse grew bright hot and violently exploded, sending charred flesh and guts everywhere, knocking the patriarch back and overloading his Coagulated Blood Armor, causing his defenses to dissipate.

Madame immediately used the opening to rush at the injured, bulky elder, and Janhalar used Blood Rush to boost his speed and try to stop her, but after taking a single step forward, another massive serpent appeared, this one slamming his body directly and sending him tumbling.

The injured man was reached, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. Several bloody spikes thrown by the patriarch whizzed through the air past Madame’s head, dodged with delicate grace, but her movement created an opening.

The elder stabbed his twin daggers at Madame’s body and somehow miraculously reached his target, sinking the weapons into her flesh.

The shadow of a grin appeared on his face, but it vanished as he realized there was no blood. Her tissue simply moved out of the way to allow the blades to enter her body, and her claws tore another heart out as the elder joined his comrade in turning into a monstrosity.

“Patriarch’s Domain!” Janhalar yelled.

The air shifted.

Janhalar’s body suddenly exploded in a shower of blood, but it didn’t simply splash to the ground. The crimson liquid began floating and spinning around the people present, rapidly expanding its radius and multiplying in volume every second.

A raging typhoon soon enveloped all the combatants, and Basilisk, despite his best attempts, couldn’t get out of the range in time.

The thick, oozing blood coated Madame and Basilisk, drastically restraining their movements and attempting to invade their bodies as it turned into freaky red maggots trying to bite through their skin.

Since the moment the ability was used, however, Madame hadn’t moved an inch. And now, she lifted her hand into the air as she uttered, “Vigor Flame.”

Upon contact with her hand, the blood ignited. At first, the flame was a few scarce sparks being washed away by the raging tornado of blood, but those sparks spread like wildfire, igniting the mighty life force within the blood, soon turning the entire area into a raging inferno.

Janhalar screamed as he canceled the ability, and he barely scraped enough blood to return to his body without having to be left entirely drained.

“Ouroboros,” said Basilisk, and the soil around Janhalar’s body morphed into another snake. It surrounded his body, devouring its tail and constraining it until the mighty patriarch could no longer move.

“All right!” screamed Janhalar, clearly ready to surrender. “I will sell 40 percent!”

Madame frowned.

“Sixty percent,” responded Basilisk.

“I—”

Morleppe rushed forth before the patriarch could continue, dragging the fleshy abomination along. The elderly man that had been pushed aside clearly didn’t dare step in her way, as he had seen what happened to the other two, so it didn’t take long for her to get dangerously close.

“I accept!” Janhalar agreed, and Basilisk raised a wall of stone snakes to stop Madame from getting any closer.

She screamed as she slammed the mass of meat into the barrier with a nasty crunch, and gore splattered all over the men on the other side. “What the hell is this!?” she screamed. “Basilisk, you piece of—”

“Just hear me out, okay?” he said, raising his arms to placate her, but that seemed to be doing anything but. “Look, Janhalar’s clan has a mining business under their wing.”

Her expression turned cold as she realized what this was about. “You treacherous pig,” she said.

“Well, I wouldn’t really call myself a pig,” he joked.

“All right,” she said. “Now that he is restrained, I’ll get the young man myself.”

The snakes on the wall hissed at her as they shifted and got in her way again.

Her head slowly turned to face the man, and he jumped back in mock fright at her crazed gaze. “I have to be there for my business partners, you know,” he justified. “It’s a matter of reputation.”

The Ouroboros that still held Janhalar tightly restrained crumbled into dust, and the man shook it off his robes as he moved to the side.

“Look,” Basilisk said, “I get it. You probably feel rather miffed, but think of the bigger picture! I’m sure we can make a deal. How’s 10 percent of my shares sound?”

Madame clenched her teeth so hard that they began cracking one after another, emitting a sound that resembled chewing on gravel. Until it abruptly stopped. “I will remember this,” was all she said as she turned around and began walking away.

“I’ll give you 20,” he tried.

She snapped her finger in response, and Matt Canstone moved through the shadows, beheading the last living elder and vanishing before Janhalar could retaliate.

“Well, shit,” was all the city lord could muster as he stared at Madame’s back.

Janhalar glowered at him momentarily before scoffing and turning around, walking away with an evident limp in his gait.

***

Freddy suddenly felt cold as a splash of water hit his naked body. Panicked, he rushed to get up, but his head hurt so bad that he could barely think straight. The dizziness and disorientation hit him immediately, and he found himself puking the alcohol he had drunk that night.

“Get up!” a coarse voice yelled, and soon, a kick followed directly into his stomach.

Someone gripped his hair and lifted his entire body off the ground. He could hear snickering all around him.

Another bucket of water was spilled over his head, but that wasn’t enough to undo the intense trauma his head had suffered.

“This bastard is so soft,” another voice said, clear and manly, and a moment later, a punch landed on his stomach, and the hand gripping his head slammed it into the wall, worsening the nausea.

“Hey, Jared!” a third voice said, this time slightly nasal. “Heal him.”

Moments later, a soft, warm touch pulsed through the top of Freddy’s head, and he could finally comprehend what was happening. “What the fuck!?” he screamed as he reflexively threw Flowing Strike with his leg, kicking at the man before him. His leg landed on the man’s ribs, and his target buckled as a loud groan escaped his lips.

Finally taking a moment to look around, his gaze scouted the room. There wasn’t much to see. It looked like an abandoned construction project made of brute concrete with numerous pieces and bits of rusty metal lying around. The only way out seemed to be through a firmly shut metal door.

“You! You bastard!” the same coarse voice came from the person who had been manhandling him until a moment ago.

He looked at the man, but it was hard to focus his sight. As he did, however, he felt his butthole clench.

The first thing he spotted were the vibrant red tattoos.

The man was still bent over, but it didn’t take him long to get up to his feet, standing head and shoulders taller than himself, burly and bald.

The other three were also without any hair, all tattooed in red from the top of their shiny scalps to the bottom of their feet.

Without thinking, Freddy swung another kick at the giant man’s leg, but the man caught his foot easily and threw him at a wall behind them as if he weighed nothing.

Freddy slammed the wall back first, and all the air in his lungs was pushed out as he fell to the ground, too winded to breathe.

Still not a big fan of being thrown at walls, was all his panicked mind could muster as he tried to think of anything.

“This fucker kicks like a truck,” the big man said, and the other three laughed at him.

Oh, I’m so fucking screwed.

Suddenly, the metal door cracked open, and a young woman dressed in red robes entered. Her cheeks were tattooed with thin, red lines, and her eyes held an icy calm that sent shivers down his spine.

The four men instantly bowed to the woman as they stepped back.

She approached Freddy, and yet again, before he could even see what had happened, he was knocked unconscious.