10.

"Uh, what the—?"

The blood mist swirled unnaturally, drawn toward the blood bead like iron dust to a magnet. Lin Feng stumbled back, watching in horror as every drop of blood drained from the deer. Its rich, red bloodied wound faded to a pale, eerie white in seconds.

When the process ended, only pristine, juicy meat remained—no blood, no gore, no mess.

Lin Feng's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Finally, he let out a strained laugh. "Oooookay, so my cape is a vampire. That's... fantastic. Just what every Isekai protagonist dreams of: vampiric powers without weaknesses."

He poked the deer's lifeless body with a stick, half-expecting it to spring back to life as a zombie. "Well, at least it saves me the trouble of cleaning the meat. No messy hands, no gross blood. Thanks, Cape Dracula. You're a real time-saver!"

Now he needs to skin it, cut it and cook it. He came closer again nervously smiling as he touched cold fur body.

His nervous grin broke when he saw his hands. His fingernails had elongated, looking like sharp, beast-like claws. He lifted them to his face, groaning.

"Great. First, I get a cape that snacks on blood, and now I'm turning into werewolf. Why not throw in fangs while we're at it?" He flexed his fingers experimentally, trying to see the bright side.

"Although..." He ran one claw down the deer's fur, effortlessly slicing the fur like a sharp knife. "Huh. No knife? No problem. Cape gets blood, I get claws. Win-win!"

Lin Feng crouched beside the deer, muttering nervously as he inspected his claws. "Okay, Lin Feng, think. Beast claws, vampire cape, and all. No need to panic. You're fine. You're doing great!" He gave a half-hearted thumbs-up with one clawed hand, then immediately regretted it when the gesture left a scratch on his own palm.

He sighed, flexing his fingers again. The sharpness of his nails made him shiver. "Look at these things! If I ever get back to Earth, I could make a fortune in Hollywood." He tapped one nail against the deer's fur and watched it slice through effortlessly. "Or maybe I'll just open a butcher shop."

The deer lay there, bloodless and eerily clean, its fur soft under his touch. "Alright, time to skin this thing," Lin Feng said, cracking his neck and trying to sound confident. "I mean, how hard can it be? People do it in survival shows all the time. I've seen, like, one episode of Man vs. Wild. And hey, if those memories I got from this body are good for anything, now's the time to use them."

As he began cutting into the fur with his claws, the motions felt disturbingly natural, like muscle memory guiding his hands. He paused, narrowing his eyes. "Wait a second. How do I even know how to do this expertly? I grew up in a city where the closest thing to nature was the park outside my apartment."

"Oh. Right. The original Lin Feng. Guess his skills are part of the package. Thanks, buddy! Just don't haunt me or anything, okay?" He gave an awkward salute to the air, then got back to work.

The fur peeled away with surprising ease, his claws working like expert tools. "Wow. This is... efficient. Like, terrifyingly efficient. If I didn't know better, I'd say I've been doing this for years or rather I did, because I am Lin Feng now." He tilted his head, inspecting his handiwork. "You know, this actually looks pretty good. If Gordon Ramsay ever visits this world, I'm totally showing off."

He kept talking to himself. "Alright, so, step one: skin the deer. Check. Step two: get firewood. Step three: cook this baby up. Step four: not think about the fact that my cape ate its blood. I mean, who needs therapy when you need to survive every moment, right?"

The deer's exposed muscles gleamed under the dappled sunlight, and Lin Feng frowned, suddenly aware of how raw it all looked. His stomach grumbled audibly.

"Nope. No way," he said, shaking his head furiously. "I am not eating this raw. I don't care how hungry I am. I'm a human being, and humans cook their food. We're civilized creatures. Well, most of the time." He shot a suspicious glance at his cape, which swayed gently in the breeze as if feigning innocence.

Lin Feng sighed, stuffing the fur in his sack, gathering up the skinned deer and slinging it over his shoulder. The weight didn't bother him as much as it should, which was another unsettling reminder of his new... condition.

"Alright, back to the pond. Fire, water, maybe a decent meal... and some time to process the fact that I'm turning into a freaking werewolf," he groaned, stomping through the forest. "I swear, every protagonist gets something cool—OP swords, magic systems, heck, even slime powers! Some guy got reborn as a vending machine and lived his best life! But me?" He pulled out his revolver, spinning it awkwardly before nearly dropping it. "I get an American solution to a Chinese fantasy problem and a fashion choice that screams 'edgy antagonist backstory.'

He stumbled over a root, catching himself against a tree. "I mean, sure, unlimited ammo is cool and all. John Wick meets cultivation, very original. But couldn't I at least get a status window? Maybe a mini-map? Even a stupid 'System' that goes 'ding' when I level up?" He kicked a pebble, then immediately regretted it when his toe hurt. "Instead, I'm out here cosplaying as Little Red Riding Hood's evil twin with a weird furry fetish. At this rate, I'll end up in one of those 'My Life as a Cultivator Went Wrong and Now I'm a Wolf-Boy' light novels."

His rambling continued as he marched, the forest around him eerily quiet save for the occasional rustle of leaves. Unbeknownst to Lin Feng, the blood bead at his neck gleamed faintly, its warmth pulsing softly in rhythm with his steps.