Chapter 1047: Where's the Promised Weapon?
"Alright, the pact is complete."
"Now, let's start the blood transfusion."
"Don't worry, no matter what happens..."
"You'll just think it was all a nightmare..."
"Heh heh heh..."
The old man's final laugh sent a chill down the spine. Old Qin stared at the IV bag above him, watching a single drop of murky blood fall into the pale yellow liquid—exactly like the scene from the promotional video.
Then a wave of weakness washed over him.
His vision went dark, and it took a moment before he regained clarity.
Old Qin still couldn't move. He looked to the left side of the hospital bed, where a massive werewolf crawled out from a pool of blood, filthy crimson still dripping from its fur.
The werewolf slowly crept toward Old Qin, then extended its sharp claws.
"Damn, a blood-soaked werewolf right off the bat? And I can't even move!"
Even though he knew this was probably just a scripted scene, Old Qin was still a bit rattled. After all, this was a next-gen VR experience, with immersion so intense it didn't rely on traditional cutscenes like old games.
But just as the werewolf's claws were about to touch Old Qin, flames suddenly erupted across its body, and it crumbled to ash amidst a shriek.
Old Qin barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before he felt something crawling up his legs.
It looked like the remains of dwarves—pale-skinned, skeletal little monsters making unintelligible hissing sounds. Their eyes were hollow pits, and their noses and mouths had merged into a single vertical, grotesque slit. These messengers grabbed onto Old Qin's legs, hands, and clothes, climbing up until they pressed against his face...
"Help! Save me!"
The screen went black. When it lit up again, Old Qin found he could move.
Yosefka's clinic was empty. Old Qin sat up from the hospital bed and swung his feet to the floor.
The earlier fatigue was gone, replaced by a feeling of boundless energy coursing through his entire body.
Obviously, to play a character in games like *Dark Souls* or *Bloodborne*, the player's attributes had to be fully enhanced. Everyone joked that without a bonfire, an undead was worthless, but they could still swing a sword taller than themselves without getting winded—the physical rules here were vastly different from the real world.
Old Qin walked around the room, noting how messy it was.
A chair lay overturned. Bookshelves lined the walls, thick with dust, with some books scattered on the floor. Broken surgical tools were haphazardly placed on cabinets, and shattered blood transfusion bottles littered the ground.
Everything around him was dim and decrepit. The floorboards creaked with every step, as if the place had been abandoned for ages. Yet somehow, this was where the blood transfusion had taken place—it felt deeply unsettling to Old Qin.
It looked like a ghost town.
On a nearby chair, a conspicuous piece of paper caught his eye. Old Qin picked it up and saw scrawled handwriting: "Seek the pale blood to triumph in the hunt."
"Nice, that classic *Dark Souls* vibe. Only Chen Mo can pull off this kind of eerie atmosphere. Tossing a random piece of paper on a chair with two cryptic lines—instant style points."
"Let me take it easy first. I'm not used to this new game pod's controls yet. Give me a moment to calm down."
Old Qin had only recently bought the Matrix game pod, and he was still adjusting to this new way of interacting.
In older VR pods, you just thought about an action, and the character would execute it automatically—all movements were pre-programmed.
But now, he had to perform every action himself, and the sensory experience was almost indistinguishable from the real world.
Old Qin had worried he'd be scared. With immersion this strong, the game felt like a nightmare. A slight breeze, a subtle environmental cue—many players with fragile nerves might not handle it.
But he realized he was overthinking it. He wasn't scared at all; instead, he felt a reckless urge to charge ahead.
This was another benefit of consciousness-implantation technology: it could largely suppress players' negative emotions, keeping them calm during gameplay.
In other words, brave and timid players wouldn't differ too much in this game, especially with the life-sign monitoring equipment ensuring safety.
Old Qin tried moving around—punching, kicking, dodging, bending, jumping, rolling.
The character's physical abilities far exceeded a normal person's, so these moves came easily to him. Dodging, in particular, felt incredibly agile. The only awkward part was rolling. In the past, a single thought would make the character execute a perfect roll automatically. Now, he actually had to do it himself...
But rolling wasn't strictly necessary. He could quickly sidestep or backstep in any direction—shorter distance than a roll, but more flexible. Combined with bending and jumping, he could probably dodge boss attacks without rolling at all.
Everything felt fine. The only problem was: where was the weapon?
*Dark Souls* gave you a weapon right away. The prequel at least handed you a broken sword. But *Bloodborne*? Empty-handed...
"Knowing Chen Mo's style, the weapon's definitely hidden somewhere ahead. ...What the hell is that wolf?"
On the first floor of the clinic, a massive wolf was gnawing on a bloody corpse. It was over two meters long, its paws several times larger than Old Qin's head.
"Crunch, crunch..."
The sound of the wolf chewing on bones made Old Qin's teeth ache.
He tried to sneak past the wolf, but it was incredibly alert. It lunged at him with claws bared, and one swipe took two-thirds of his health!
"...Definitely a trap from Serent. I'm not falling for it, heh."
Old Qin took two quick steps forward, instantly creating distance from the wolf, then calmly pushed open the door and walked out.
Sure enough, the wolf didn't follow.
"See? See? Any veteran who beat the *Dark Souls* prequel knows this is a classic setup. Just like the big-ass demon at the start of the prequel—you're not supposed to fight it. You run out, grab a weapon, then come back to deal with it. Alright, let's go find our weapon."
Old Qin felt deeply impressed by his own intelligence.
Sure enough, a glowing item sat under a tombstone in the courtyard ahead, emitting an enticing white light. Old Qin didn't bother questioning why the clinic's front yard was a graveyard. He happily rushed over and picked it up.
10 Quicksilver Bullets.
Old Qin: "...Alright, guess it's still further ahead."
Pushing open the clinic's main door, he spotted a corpse on the ground with another item.
"This time it's gotta be the weapon! Give me the weapon!"
He grabbed it excitedly. 4 Blood Vials.
Old Qin: "???"
What the hell? Where's the promised weapon?!