Mission Failed

He opened his character panel. Still mostly blank—but now a black-framed achievement flickered ominously at the top:

[Werewolf Curse]You have inherited the viral strain by killing Werewolf Montico.Classification: Barbarian Species | Viral Organism | Blood Creature

Dawei blinked.

"High-end doesn't even begin to explain this," he muttered.

It wasn't just a title. The system had given him three racial classifications. All tied to the monster he'd killed—or become.

He didn't even know what those attributes did, but he knew this much:

This game had depth. Dangerous, frustrating, exhilarating depth.

What he didn't know was why the god-level mission failed. He'd technically completed an impossible act—killing an S-class boss. So why had he failed instead of been crowned MVP?

There was only one person who might explain it: Dioise, the Great Sage.

If the official site couldn't clarify it—and it didn't—then it was time to let the lore gods speak.

He fast-traveled back to Dioise's cottage. As his avatar materialized, a fresh system message flickered:

System Prompt:Dioise's attitude toward you has changed: [Mixed]

Dawei groaned. "What kind of RPG even uses 'Mixed' as a reputation state? Just say you don't know how you feel, old man."

Still, he pressed forward and submitted the mission.

The sage listened quietly as Dawei recounted everything. The fire, the potion, the chaos, the bite. He didn't embellish. Didn't brag.

When he finished, Dioise was silent for a long time.

Then finally, the sage spoke:

"Child… strictly speaking, it was not you who killed Montico.""You were bitten."

Dawei raised an eyebrow. "And that's different because…?"

Dioise turned toward his window, voice slow.

"The werewolf virus doesn't just kill. It transfers.It infects through blood and can only pass to one recipient at a time. Once the new host accepts it… the former dies."

And just like that, everything snapped into place.

Dawei froze, the puzzle locking into clarity.

So that's what the [Werewolf Curse] meant. It wasn't just a title—it was the virus.

Montico hadn't been killed. He had been replaced.

And Dawei… was the replacement.

Dioise continued with a sigh. "For me, it wouldn't have been hard to kill Montico, especially outside of the full moon. But I didn't want to. I… wanted to save him."

He paused, tone softer now. "He was a kind soul once. He sought strength to challenge the Vampire Count—not to conquer, but to resist. He hated what he became."

Dawei sat back, stunned.

Of course. A noble prince turned beast. Hunted. Cursed. And in the end, just trying to pass it on—to be free.

The strange conversation they'd had made more sense now.

That moment when Montico asked, "Do you desire eternal life?"—he wasn't offering a blessing.

He was asking for a way out.

"And that's why he asked me that question," Dawei muttered aloud. "He just wanted someone to take the curse off his shoulders."

Dioise nodded gravely.

"You didn't kill him. You freed him."

Dawei exhaled sharply.

So that's why no loot had dropped. Why there'd been no boss drop or rare equipment.

Because he hadn't killed the boss Montico. He'd killed the man Montico—after the transformation wore off.

And the virus, recognizing him as a willing successor, had allowed the cycle to continue.

That's why he wasn't dead, despite the fatal injury.

The game's system, hyper-intelligent and self-correcting, had flagged the bite not as an attack, but a transformation.

Dawei wasn't damaged. He was… changed.

"Holy crap," he muttered. "I got tagged into a bloodline I didn't even sign up for."

But as his mind reeled, something darker dawned on him.

The werewolf virus had originated from the Vampire Count.

Which meant… Dawei had just become a sleeper agent of a major undead villain.

A player, owned—enslaved—by an NPC.

The horror rolled over him like cold water.

"Am I… a minion now?" he whispered. "Did I just become an evil faction's delivery boy?"

For the first time since entering Mercenary World, Dawei genuinely wanted to chuck his headset into a wall.

Dioise, sensing his turmoil, placed a hand on Dawei's shoulder.

"Though you now carry the curse, it need not define you."

His eyes shone with ancient wisdom.

"You carry Montico's legacy. You may yet redeem him—and yourself."

And with that, Dawei's purpose shifted again.

He hadn't just lost a mission.

He'd inherited one.