Daylight's sunshine is always bothersome. It's all too easy for vampires to get tired when exposed to this 'full-on exposure.' As noon approached, the hottest time of the day, Murphy had retreated into the house for a light nap.
"Ding dong"
A notification alert from the forum roused Murphy from his light slumber. He glanced at the forum and saw that there were new messages in the application area.
New applicants already, just after he released the test application link?
Well, aren't they prompt?
Opening the application, Murphy found the applicant's ID was "Precipitated Niu Niu Unafraid of Difficulties," humorously labeled as an 'athlete'. He chuckled at that.
This was unmistakably through the efforts of Akuen among the fraternity of his six dorm buddies. The guy was a go-getter and lived up to his reputation as an outstanding student.
Going through the applicant's questionnaire answers, Murphy figured this person, like the fraternity, was a naïve college student with little worldly experience and approved the application.
An old hand like Murphy loved naïve youngsters. It was always so easy to manipulate them.
There were other applications too. Their bizarre IDs amazed and bewildered him. What on earth were these internet users thinking while choosing their usernames?
Usernames like 'Black Silk Under the Keyboard' were the least abstract. The others were too embarrassing to even look at.
'Overflowed Three Five Battles', 'First Day of Ring Attack', 'Electronic Demon Old Qu'...
They were incredibly abstract.
Too abstract!
These usernames were likely the friends of Wumeioge in real life, as all their application forms had Wumeioge's ID as their referrer.
The infamous social butterfly had displayed his stellar social skills again. Murphy was really curious about the composition of Wumeioge's social circle.
But truth be told, the answers on these guys' questionnaires were exemplary: they had rich gaming experience, loved role-playing, welcomed hardcore challenges, and respected the rules. They were the perfect candidates for players, in Murphy's book... or not!
Such uniformity in their answers hinted at Wumeioge's 'guidance' in filling up the forms, right?
Murphy was tempted to reject them.
But then he remembered that he could control the player accounts completely- ban them anytime. Moreover, he urgently needed more members, so it would be appropriate to relax the standards for applications.
If these guys proved inappropriate, he could just send them to the 'Cannon Fodder Group' to undertake the most dangerous missions.
Poor gaming experiences would certainly discourage these ill-suited fellows.
He just wasn't sure how the mysterious gaming helmets would be reclaimed if player accounts were banned. They wouldn't just spin 360° in place and self-destruct, would they?
Hmm, chances of explosion were low, right?
Murphy shrugged and approved these four applications. This meant he already had the needed twelve players, and now, counting himself and the 'Temporary Assistant' Milian, he had fourteen.
That was sufficient to go into battle!
Provided the Witch Hunters did not 'refresh' on his face right now.
Based on what Murphy had gathered from the player's group's stealthy peeping, there would be a delay between application approval and helmet distribution. Taking the fastest local logistics into account, it might still take 6-12 hours on an average.
Two hours had already elapsed since Maxim had set off, excluding the time lost in detours, and considering the limitations of vampires' large-scale rapid daytime movement. Thus, Murphy concluded,
If all went well, the reinforcements would arrive at the earliest by evening today. So, in the best case, he just had to get through this day.
As for whether he, the pawn, would be abandoned by the vampires?
Murphy wasn't worried about that.
He had prepared for this before Maxim left. As long as his loyal Blood Servant was alive to deliver the message, the Midnight Hunters would surely come to his rescue!
"I've done as you asked. I've distributed the usable weapons and armor among the intact rooms at the village entrance. Do you need me to do anything else?"
Milian, wearing old leather armor and carrying a Witch Hunter's crossbow, walked in. She stood at the door and asked Murphy, not sounding particularly friendly.
Murphy didn't mind. He replied:
"If the Witch Hunters come by day, I won't be able to fight in the sunlight. So, I need you to act as a decoy..."
"You want me to rush to my death?"
Milian's face tightened, her fist clenching but Murphy shook his head and said:
"No, you'd just distract them, buying time for my summons to launch a surprise attack and scatter them. Just like the technique you used to lure and kill the Witch Hunter in the cellar. You're familiar with this.
Don't be scared, Milian.
Their primary target is me. Before I'm killed, you're absolutely safe."
"If it's just that, then I'm willing to help."
Milian heaved a sigh of relief.
Although she didn't have much emotional attachment to her family, this was still the place she was born and grew up in. Seeing her hometown ravaged, and having herself nearly violated by the crazed Witch Hunters, made her absolutely furious.
Transylvania was backward and superstitious, but the hostile environment fostered a hardy temperament among the people of Transia. Even the women had fiery tempers.
Milian, a knowledgeable and reserve scholar, was no exception. She was tough and clever, making her one of the most difficult types among the Transia people to deal with.