Rubbing his sore behind, Dracula shifted his position and crossed his legs as he settled into the throne.
He gazed up through the skylight embedded in the throne hall's ceiling, looking at the blood moon hanging high in the night sky, and muttered to himself:
"So… how long was I asleep this time? Where am I? What year is it now?"
[System booting… system rebooting… reboot complete.]
[Host, you are currently located on the outskirts of Paris, capital of France. The current year is 1700.]
"Ah, 1700 Paris… That means we're still in the feudal noble era, huh?" Dracula scratched his head, desperately trying to recall the historical knowledge he'd crammed over a thousand years ago. "Wasn't the Storming of the Bastille in 17-something?"
[July 14, 1789 – The Storming of the Bastille. The French bourgeois revolution begins.]
"Right, that's the one. Eh, not that it matters." Dracula changed position again and slumped lazily across his throne. "What really surprises me is… you're still here. I figured once I went into hibernation, you'd ditch me and look for a new host."
[This system is permanently bound upon activation. Unless the host dies, separation is impossible.]
"Yeah, yeah, I wish I could die," Dracula muttered. "Hey, figure out a way to kill me, will you?"
In response, a status screen popped up before his eyes.
[Host Name: Dracula (Gabriel Belmont)]
[Level: ???]
[Strength: ???]
[Agility: ???]
[Magic: ???]
[Endurance: ???]
[Luck: E (an honest rating, given your track record)]
[Abilities: ???]
[Please review your stats. Can you think of any way to kill yourself? I may serve you faithfully, but even a system has limits, you know.]
"Not my fault." Dracula yawned. "Back then, I only got strong to get revenge on those two bastards—God and the Devil—who used me like a pawn. Now that my vengeance is done, I can't even die in peace?"
Hatred—it had once fueled him like nothing else. Fueled by vengeance, Dracula had spent seven centuries traversing countless worlds with the help of the system, relentlessly seeking ways to grow stronger.
To slay God, a being of creation-level divinity, he'd studied under other creator gods, piloted super-mechs capable of destroying galaxies or even universes, and exchanged thoughts with eldritch deities of chaos.
He never imagined that a once-housebound layabout like him could unleash such unstoppable drive—all for revenge.
And when a powerful being casts away all limits and throws themselves fully toward a singular goal… what on earth could possibly stop them?
In the great war between Heaven and Hell centuries ago, he took advantage of the chaos and managed to destroy both of his sworn enemies in one fell swoop.
But nothing is more hollow than revenge fulfilled. Now, all Dracula wanted was to waste away in peace.
[On that note, I must seriously reprimand you, host.]
The system's voice suddenly sharpened.
[You had the chance to dodge God's final, self-sacrificing seal—and you chose not to. You wasted centuries of effort for nothing.]
"I couldn't be bothered," Dracula replied lazily. "Would've been nice if I died. Speaking of which… You were created to guide and protect the world, weren't you? Why'd you pick a demon lord like me as your host? Pretty ridiculous, don't you think?"
[As a system crafted by the will of the macrocosm to save the world, I concluded that choosing an invincible host would be far more efficient than hand-holding a weakling through character development.]
The system paused, then added:
[Also, you are the only one in this world who has saved it—twice—on your own. Frankly, between God and Satan, I believe you are the one who loves this world most.]
Dracula scratched his butt. He neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, he murmured:
"Hey, system… I'm hungry. Got anything to eat?"
[Host, your castle contains a wide range of preserved ingredients and prepared meals. This system can provide divine weapons, forbidden techniques, and broken-level powers—but not food. That would… tarnish my dignity.]
"Useless system. You're not even good for snacks." Dracula lazily shouted, "The World!"
A muscular man in shining platinum armor gradually materialized at his side.
"Huh? You changed color? Weren't you gold before?" Dracula said, surprised.
The Stand said nothing, silently waiting for his master's orders.
[After the host defeated God, this Stand underwent final evolution. Its current designation is: The World Over Heaven]
This Stand, "The World," was something Dracula had acquired as a reward after helping a delinquent-looking student defeat an overly dramatic chuunibyou vampire during his training travels.
[Host, with all due respect… you were hardly in any position to mock someone else's chuunibyou. Pot, meet kettle.]
"Whatever, that doesn't matter." Dracula ignored the system and began giving orders.
"The World, fix my hair."
"Brush my teeth."
"Wash my face."
"Shave my stubble."
"Spread this blanket over my throne."
Once The World finished every chore, Dracula lay down on the throne, wrapped in his blanket like a burrito.
Dracula rubbed his stomach, then glanced toward the distant kitchen deep within the castle. After a brief moment of thought, he sighed:
"The World, oh World... even after evolving, your attack range is still just twenty meters?"
[Host, that's enough already! If The World had a mind of its own like Echoes ACT 3 or Gold Experience Requiem, it would've beaten you to death by now!]
"Oh? Then I'd love to see it try." Dracula yawned lazily. "Whatever. The kitchen's too far. I'll take a nap first. Good night."
[Host, could you please show some motivation?! I woke you up in this era for a reason—you have a mission to fulfill! Not to lounge around like this!]
"Doesn't matter. Even if I fail the mission, you can't do anything to me." Dracula mumbled with his eyes shut. "Besides, why bother with half-baked quests? I'd rather sleep for another three hundred years. There'll be more games to play by then."
[Very well, Host. If you insist on being this lazy... then don't blame me for what comes next.]
The system's tone turned icy.
Dracula squinted at the air. "What are you planning?"
[Weren't you hungry, Host? I've brought you a few… sweet and delicious snacks.]
[I may not be able to control you—an overpowered anomaly far beyond the norm—but I can control your mission targets. Taunting them, luring them into this empty castle… it's a piece of cake.]
Bang!
The grand doors of the throne hall were suddenly kicked open.
Dracula lazily turned his head.
A small group of high-ranking vampires entered, led by one particularly smug-looking fellow who sneered at Dracula:
"Prepare to die, Dracula!!"