At this point, the bodies of the neighboring family of three had already been taken to the nearby cemetery and were being prepared for a dusk burial.

  According to the original game plot, Aurora would only crawl out late at night. So Marvin wasn't in a rush. Since his soul had been transferred into the body of this bewildered NPC (and had, quite by chance, interrupted the vampire's mental hypnosis of the original owner), he knew he had to cut off all his previous social ties before the vampires noticed something was amiss and came searching for him.

  The technology tree in this world was a total mess. In the big cities, they had satellites, mobile phones, cars, and subways, while out in the remote countryside people still had to draw water from a well. In developed areas, electronic currency and securities markets thrived, yet in less advanced regions, folks were still using gold, silver, and copper coins or even bartering goods.

  Cold weapons and firearms coexisted, and technology clashed with the supernatural in this weird, contradictory world.

  Zephandrel, where Marvin was based, ranked among the most developed cities in this realm, meaning its public facilities were as complete as they came.

  He hopped on the subway and made his way to the local high school before sauntering into the classroom he was scheduled to teach that day.

  This high school wasn't cheap; most students were children of middle-class families, so the classroom maintained decent order. As soon as the teacher walked in, every student fell silent at once.

  Marvin stepped up to the lectern and the students opened their textbooks, ready to take notes.

  "Everyone, close your textbooks. Today you won't have to take any notes," Marvin announced calmly. "Your assignment for today is to choose a topic from everything we've studied this semester and write a paper on it."

  He scanned the room and then said loudly, "Once you've chosen your topic, head over to the library to gather materials and write a historical paper. This will be your homework for the week. For the next few days, you'll be on self-study."

  The students immediately erupted into cheers. They might not have known exactly how to write a paper, but the idea of free self-study was exciting enough! With their warm farewells echoing behind him, Marvin left the classroom and headed toward the principal's office.

  The office door was ajar, and inside the principal was sitting in a high-backed chair, absorbed in a newspaper. Marvin pushed the door open and stated bluntly, "Principal, I'm resigning."

  The principal looked up and, recognizing that the teacher who was resigning was none other than the young master of the Fontaine family, simply nodded. Everyone knew that this history teacher was actually a noble who didn't really care about his teaching salary. The principal said, "Alright, but Mr. Marvin, please stay on for one more week until we hire a new history teacher, okay?"

  "No thanks," Marvin replied. "I've already given the students a week's homework, and for the next week, history class will be replaced with self-study. They'll be heading to the library to work on their papers."

  The principal managed a wry smile. "It seems you're really set on leaving. So, are you planning to go back to running the family business?"

  Marvin shook his head and chuckled. "No, I'm planning to sell my shops and then form an expedition team for some adventures."

  "Sell them?" The principal was taken aback. He knew the Fontaine family owned two shops in Zephandrel, each worth hundreds of pounds.

  Here, 'pounds' referred to Pendragon pounds—a unit originally for weight that later became the highest currency in the Eastern Pendragon Empire. One pound note was equivalent to an ancient Souledes gold coin, and by the exchange rates from his past game life, one gold coin was worth around thousand dollars.

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  By that math, Marvin was a bona fide millionaire. With no loans or debts to speak of.

  To sell everything just to put together an expedition team was as crazy as selling prime property in New York or California just to become a mercenary abroad.

  Not wanting to get too personal, the principal just smiled and arranged Marvin's resignation without further comment.

  With his resignation finalized, the next step was clear. Buy all the equipment he needed to arm himself.

  As a former professional VRMMORPG player and an expert in early-game leveling strategies, Marvin knew exactly which weapons to wield, which armor to wear, and which missions or dungeons to tackle. In this area, he had no trouble at all.

  He left the school and strolled over to a nearby weapons shop. "I want to buy a sword," he said.

  "Master Fontaine would like to purchase a sword?" the shop owner asked, instantly recognizing the young master of the Fontaine family. Knowing he had plenty of money, the owner eagerly tried to push the exclusive, diamond-encrusted ceremonial swords designed for nobility. "You have great taste. We have all types of swords here. We just got a fresh batch of top-quality pieces—relics, they say, from the ancient High Elven Empire. Perhaps you'd be interested..."

  "What material?" Marvin asked coolly. "If it's made of meteoric iron, magical copper, mithril, refined steel, glass, polar ice, blood-forged steel, chaos rock, or even dragon bone, I'll buy it."

  At the mention of these materials, the shop owner nearly fell over, laughing nervously. "Master Fontaine, my little shop doesn't stock those high-end materials... I might be able to get some meteoric iron or magical copper off the black market with some effort. Mithril and refined steel are controlled by the Imperial Army, and glass and polar ice are so rare across the continent that I simply don't have them here!"

  "And what about blood-forged steel, chaos rock, and dragon bone? Aren't those legendary materials, the stuff of mythical artifacts? I doubt they even exist in reality."

  "Those materials don't exist, and yet you claim you have everything?" Marvin sighed in exasperation. "Fine. Show me your best stock. And don't try to fool me with ornate, hollow designs."

  "Very well," the shop owner replied with a sheepish smile. "Right now, we have two types of longswords. One made of iron and another forged from steel. The highest grade we carry is a Damascus Cloud Pattern Steel sword, treated with the church's most advanced chrome-plating technology and quenched with AO methods. Its quality is top-notch..."

  "What sword models do you have?" Marvin interrupted.

  "We have the standard Spacien cavalry sword from the military, and an Eastern single-edged curved sword called the Paramayen. And if you need something with extra killing power, we also have a Western hybrid sword with a thick spine and a weighted pommel. One swing of it can easily cut through a man's neck."

  "Just the single-edged curved sword will do. I also want a short sword. An Illybian-style short sword from ancient Pendragon. The blade must be sharpened. Don't give me an antique that's all style and no substance."

  "I also need a set of lamellar armor with at least three layers of linen padding, covered by a coarse silk-cotton cuirass. Nothing too flashy. Any standard dye will do."

  "Understood." The shop owner quickly sent an assistant to retrieve the items, adding with an apologetic smile, "Master Fontaine, are you planning to join the royal guard? Just yesterday, a royal guard bought a similar set of equipment here, along with a mace for breaking heavy armor. Would you like to see that as well?"

  "No, thanks," Marvin said. "For breaking heavy armor, a firearm is far more suitable."

  "Of course, of course." The shop owner eagerly agreed, secretly relieved since guns were far too expensive. A single handgun would cost at least two or three pounds, plus the bullets. A mace was much more practical and affordable for knocking someone's head off.

  Before long, the assistant returned with the items. The shop owner helped Marvin slip into the lamellar armor and drape the silk-cotton cuirass over him. Instantly, he looked every bit the dashing hero.

  He hung the short sword from the buckle on the left side of his leather belt, and in his right hand, he casually swung the refined steel single-edged curved sword. The blade let out a low, menacing hum as it cut through the air.

  "Not bad," Marvin said appreciatively, clearly satisfied with the sword.

  The shop owner gulped nervously, suddenly struck by an inexplicable fear. Watching Marvin swing his sword so effortlessly reminded him of a few hardened veterans he had once encountered. Men so deadly that even standing in their presence made him want to turn and run.

  "This lamellar armor is 5 pounds, and the silk-cotton cuirass is 1 pound. The two swords together cost about 0.3 pounds. I'll waive the extra small charges for you," the shop owner said cautiously.

  "Alright." Marvin replied as he reached into his money pouch and pulled out a few banknotes.

  He turned and left the shop, and the shop owner, watching his retreating figure, felt a quiet relief that he had narrowly escaped a fate far worse than a simple sale.