Vampire Till I Die (1)

The items listed on the dimensional marketplace rotated at random. Aside from staple survival goods like canned tuna, I generally adjusted the stock on the fly according to circumstances. Naturally, sweets and confectioneries rarely made the cut.

"People are literally starving to death out there. Who the hell has time for dessert?"

Taking consumer purchasing power into account, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had even started selling cheap tap water in bulk on the marketplace. As long as they boiled it, it was perfectly drinkable. Compared to guzzling rancid puddle water or toxic rain, clean tap water was infinitely more hygienic and safe for their health. Yet the dango required to purchase that tap water in bulk was roughly equivalent to the price of a single bag of potato chips.

"The unit economics just don't make sense."

Contrary to my expectations, however, the demand for desserts was absurdly high. The gallery users made that abundantly clear, raising an absolute uproar for sweets to be stocked immediately.

"They're way more popular than I thought."

Entertainment was virtually nonexistent in this other world. In fact, far from having hobbies or leisure, the vast majority struggled to secure basic food, clothing, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and shelter. Under such bleak conditions, the arrival of the gallery marketplace had gripped them like an intoxicating drug. Above all, they were fanatically obsessed with the taste and quality of modern food, drink, and sugary confectioneries.

I had put them in the gacha pool, but the reception was surprisingly lukewarm. In truth, even general marketplace listings sold out the instant they were posted, but the barrier of entry for gacha was considerably higher. At the end of the day, no matter how many dango you poured into pulling, if luck wasn't on your side, you walked away empty-handed. That was simply the nature of gacha.

Even so, I had zero intention of putting them on the open shelves. I had made them available primarily for my sub-mods in the first place.

Public opinion normalized in an instant. Realizing that threats and collective outrage held no sway over me, the forum denizens immediately pivoted toward statistical analysis. Specifically, cracking the gacha drop rates.

The gacha featured three prize categories: Common, Mid-Tier, and Jackpot Top-Tier. Ten percent for Mid-Tier wasn't terrible on paper, but if you were sniping solely for Honey Butter Chips, it was virtually equivalent to landing a jackpot.

Predictably, the general sentiment among the users was sour, but I remained utterly unperturbed.

"A one-percent individual rate is downright generous, isn't it?"

Besides, that one percent only applied if you were aiming strictly for the chips. Combining Mid-Tier and Top-Tier results yielded an eleven percent success rate. Anything from Mid-Tier upward yielded pure profit the moment you resold it on the player market. Honestly, how was the gallery gacha any different from modern crypto speculation?

System notification pings chimed without a moment's pause. Of course, prizes didn't drop so easily. But in a lottery like this, all it took was for one person—just a single lucky soul—to hit the mark.

The instant someone scored the prize, forum users who had been merely spectating swarmed the thread like starving locusts.

Alongside the spectators who came just to gawk, wealthy magnates who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had gathered to buy the item instantly ignited an all-out bidding war.

I didn't step in to ban these auctions. It wasn't scalping; it was simply a lucky winner and desperate buyers agreeing on fair market value under pure supply and demand.

Of course, there was never any guarantee the winner would sell. These medieval inhabitants, who once couldn't even stomach beast meat, had gone utterly mad over the taste of modern processed snacks. Even when offered sums equivalent to millions of won for a single bag of chips, they refused to part with it.

Review posts like this continuously fanned the flames, ensuring the frenzy never showed signs of cooling down. In fact, things escalated to the point where desperate users began pitching resumes to claim any vacant Assistant Moderator slots, hoping to snag the perks directly.

"Not that I have any intention of hiring new mods right now."

Fortunately, the burning gallery was generating heat in a positive direction. Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned my attention to a matter I had been putting off.

And with that, the trolling sub-mod had been thoroughly normalized. Leaving the squawking Full-Health Elf to complain into the void, I shifted my gaze toward another assistant moderator—the perpetually silent Vampire Till I Die.

"Why hasn't she said a word?"

Given her insatiable sweet tooth, this silence had stretched on for far too long. For her to remain completely unresponsive even while the entire forum was ablaze with Honey Butter Chip hysteria was downright bizarre. Right around the time I began wondering if something had genuinely gone wrong, a prompt flashed across my screen.

"What?"

In the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠video feed, Godjukheup had slipped through a portal and vanished into parts unknown. Right after that, this bizarre system prompt had materialized.

"Indefinite inactive state?"

Had something happened to her? Unfortunately, I had no direct means of confirming her status. Just as I was caught in deep thought, a strange resonance hummed through the bunker room that belonged entirely to me.

Wuuuung—

"?"

Lifting my head from the mattress, I glanced toward the far corner of the room. There, the space warped and shimmered. It was completely different from a Rift—an ominous portal bathed entirely in eerie crimson light.

Viscous blood trickled down the razor-sharp edge of the giant scythe.

"Haaahhh-aah..."

Standing inside the cabin that had been neatly sliced in two, Erzsebet rubbed her heavy eyelids with a prolonged yawn.

"I've been so sleepy lately..."

To suppress her ancient curse, she was supposed to drink blood. Yet instead of drinking foul-tasting, unnutritious blood, she had substituted it with cola and coffee. She didn't fully comprehend the reason, but their colors were practically the same, weren't they? And in practice, it had genuinely worked. It had helped her progress from stiff, broken translationese into articulating crisp, complete sentences.

"I... I really need to drink blood, but..."

The side effects had finally caught up to her. An unbearable, suffocating wave of drowsiness had begun to drag her down. She glanced around the ruined cabin, where the forum troll who had previously posted murder threats lay collapsed in a gruesome heap after being subjected to a swift reality ban. Erzsebet crept forward, dipping the tip of her tongue into a smear of his spilled blood.

"Blech!"

Naturally, it tasted revolting. Who on earth had ever claimed that vampires actually loved blood? It reeked of metallic iron, and the stains were a nightmare to wash out of clothing. With a tearful, miserable pout, Erzsebet retreated back to her desolate ancient castle.

"I know I have to drink it, but I don't want to..."

Instead, she yanked a chilled can of cola from the refrigerator and washed the foul taste from her throat. A quiet dread was beginning to settle in her chest. She had begun to realize that every time she unleashed her powers or drew upon her magical might, the bouts of drowsiness struck with greater frequency and weight. Eventually, it would spiral past ordinary naps, potentially plunging her into a deep slumber lasting hundreds of years.

"I have to tell the Head Mod..."

The last time she had accidentally dozed off, hadn't she gone completely missing from the forum for several days? Erzsebet loved her present life more than anything. Believing that the Head Mod might have a solution, she was just about to pull up the chat interface when—

"—!"

Every shred of strength abruptly vanished from her limbs. Erzsebet collapsed onto the cold stone floor of the audience hall with a dull thud. Pushed past its absolute threshold, her exhausted body had simply shut down, surrendering to sleep.

No...! I haven't even finished my cola yet!

Clenching her teeth, she glared desperately at the hovering system interface before her fading vision.

Does he think I'm ignoring him because I don't want them?!

Before sinking entirely into the dark abyss of slumber, she gathered every ounce of her fading concentration and focused her remaining mana. Forcing her crimson eyes wide open, she triggered her magic.

"Ngh..."

With that final gasp, every drop of energy deserted her body. As her eyes fluttered shut against the crushing tide of sleep, right before consciousness slipped away completely—

"Whoa, where the hell is this?"

A familiar, casual voice echoed through the empty audience hall. Struggling against the heavy weight pressing on her eyelids, she forced them open a sliver. She was greeted by an intoxicating, impossibly sweet aroma—and a lone human.

"Godjukheup?"

"...Head Mod?"

Standing right there in her castle was none other than the Head Mod himself.