Sorry, I'm Just a Weak Little Vampire

The midday bell echoed across the Academy's gothic courtyard.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the ancient, twisted oak trees, casting long shadows over the stone fountains. Students gathered in small groups, eating and gossiping.

Rosalie sat on a carved stone bench. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of her skirt.

Inside her mind, the Destiny Plunder System's virtual panel flashed with angry red warning lights.

[Target: Genevieve. Hostility Level: 0. Plunder Mechanism: FAILED.]

Rosalie ground her teeth together. The system's script required Genevieve to act like an arrogant, abusive noble. Rosalie was supposed to play the victim, trigger Genevieve's rage, and steal her luck points in front of a crowd.

But Genevieve was acting like a slippery pile of mud. She refused to fight back. The system was completely stuck.

A few feet away, a group of low-tier vampires sat on the grass, whispering loudly.

"I heard Lord Marcus threw her out of his bed," a girl with thick glasses gossiped. "The shock broke her brain."

"No way," a tall boy argued. "My cousin works at the Court. He said her pureblood core rotted. She's literally mentally regressing."

Rosalie listened to the rumors. A new plan formed in Rosalie's mind. If Genevieve wouldn't attack her naturally, Rosalie would force a public confrontation.

Rosalie stood up and walked over to the outdoor buffet tables. She picked up a small, crystal plate holding a rare, high-tier blood pudding. It smelled intoxicatingly sweet.

She arranged her features into a mask of pure, sisterly devotion. She walked toward the dark corner under the oldest oak tree, where Genevieve sat alone in the shade.

The system chimed in Rosalie's head: [If target slaps the food away, Host will gain 5 Prestige Points.]

Rosalie stopped in front of Genevieve. She held the plate out with both hands.

"Sister," Rosalie said, her voice loud enough for the gossiping students to hear. "I stood in line to get this for you. I hope it brings your strength back."

Genevieve was leaning against the tree trunk, absentmindedly pulling blades of grass from the dirt. She looked up. She stared at the pudding, then looked at Rosalie's overly eager face.

Genevieve didn't slap the plate. She didn't yell.

Instead, she snatched the plate right out of Rosalie's hands.

Without a word of thanks, Genevieve grabbed the small silver spoon and shoved a massive bite of the pudding into her mouth.

"Oh, wow," Genevieve mumbled, her mouth completely full. "This is actually good. Way better than the garbage the Court chefs make."

Rosalie's hands were still frozen in the air. Her prepared speech about being bullied died in her throat.

Genevieve scraped the plate clean in three seconds flat. She shoved the empty crystal plate back into Rosalie's hands.

"What? Is this it?" Genevieve complained loudly, making sure her voice carried across the courtyard. "Are you feeding a beggar? Go get me three more portions, and hurry up!"

Rosalie's face twitched. She gripped the empty plate so hard her knuckles turned white. She forced a stiff, painful smile.

"I'm sorry, sister," Rosalie forced the words out. "They ran out."

Genevieve's face instantly dropped. She scowled, looking at Rosalie with pure, unfiltered disgust.

"You are completely useless," Genevieve snorted, waving her hand as if shooing away a fly. "Can't even fetch a simple snack properly. Get out of my sight before you ruin my appetite further."

The students on the grass stopped talking. They stared at Rosalie, their eyes filled with weird, judging looks.

Rosalie felt her face burn with intense humiliation. She spun around and walked away fast, her posture stiff and awkward.

[WARNING!] The strange entity in her mind shrieked. [Target's behavior registers as pure greed and laziness, not aristocratic bullying! Host subservience detected. Charm Level decreased by 2 points!]

Rosalie rushed into the nearest stone bathroom. She slammed her fist into the marble sink, cracking the mirror above it.

Back under the tree, Genevieve stretched her legs out and smiled.

Her shameless tactic worked perfectly. As long as she acted like a greedy, lazy idiot without actual violent intent, the system couldn't touch her.

A shadow fell over her.

A low-tier, commoner boy stood nervously in front of her. His hands shook as he held out a cheap, plastic bottle of tomato-flavored blood drink.

Genevieve didn't hesitate. She grabbed the bottle, popped the cap, and took a drink.

"Thanks," she said casually.

The boy's face lit up with shock and joy. He bowed awkwardly and ran off.

Up on the second-floor balcony, Dorian pushed his goggles up his nose. He watched Genevieve drink the cheap tomato blood. The mystery around her just kept getting deeper.