Magic Multiverse 7 (Patreon)

Sam had been hoping that, under sunlight, maybe with the help of a cup of tea, he would be able to handle the existence of vampires better.

It was not to be. On the contrary, without his focus being split by Wesley, who had been at the edge of a mental breakdown, he was able to sit down and focus fully on the information he received from the skill, which came with existential dread.

He sat at the kitchen table, digging deep into the Intermediate Vampire Lore skill. The more he dug, the more frustrated he got. Vampires were stronger than humans, vicious, and lacking in any kind of guilt or empathy that might hold them back.

Worse, apparently, the older they got, the stronger they became.

Since even a new, fledging vampire was supposed to be stronger than an ordinary human, that was not good news.

“Luckily, most of vampire lore is about how to kill them,” he muttered to himself as he took a sip of tea. There were a lot of options, including sunlight, a stake through the chest, holy water, fire, decapitation… Also, they had some interesting weaknesses like being unable to walk into one’s home without an explicit invitation. Also, even if they hadn’t shown their demon face, there were ways to distinguish them from humans.

More importantly, the lore was clear that fledgling vampires usually lacked tactical sense or fighting skills, and detailed several tactical approaches to deal with them with relative ease.

The problem was the older vampires. His current knowledge had several tactics related to them, which unfortunately could be summed up as starting a fire and hoping to run faster than one’s companions while praying for dawn.

“Maybe a better version of the skill would contain ways to deal with them,” he muttered, taking another sip, only to find his tea got cold while distracted.

He dumped his tea to the sink, wishing that he had the presence of mind to ask Wesley for his contact information, but he hadn’t expected Wesley to be summoned by his old curmudgeon of a father, removing his easiest way to farm more points.

A pity, as Wesley might have allowed him to farm both boxing and vampire lore rapidly.

He needed more information, so he decided to visit the library. Not to check books, but newspaper archives. Vampire lore had some investigative details that could be used to trace vampires from public sources. Not very effective ones as it felt like they were compiled in middle ages, but they could be adapted to newspaper stories relatively easily.

It was the best way to understand the scale of the problem.

Unfortunately, just like his Wand Magic Theory, Vampire Lore skill lacked any broader relevant context. He had no idea the world had a thousand vampires, or a million of them. And, accepting the existence of a bunch of quirky hidden magicals was easier to accept than demon-possessed corpses.

Especially since it indirectly confirmed that demons existed as well. Unlike vampires, he had no idea what demons were capable of, other than their existing and being dangerous.

Fun.

“Life was easier when my only concern was juggling amateur football and shitty jobs,” he whispered as he entered the library. Though, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse the system. After all, it was clear that the world had always been fucked up behind that dangerous layer.

Wrestling with the existence of vampires was better than ending up wrestling a real one, not even able to understand what was going on.

Digging through the newspapers didn’t make him feel any better. Checking obituaries and tabloid stories about suspicious deaths wasn’t an exact science according to his skill, but even if a small fraction of the clues were correct, the number of vampire-related deaths around London was far higher than he could feel comfortable with.

“That’s not good,” he muttered, but he didn’t leave immediately. He stopped by the mythology session, checking a few books about mythology and folklore, which he had always dismissed as useless before. But, with his skills as a guide, maybe he could find something real.

Unfortunately, his brief search didn’t give him anything. He didn’t check out any books because he didn’t want to start talking about magic or vampires with Hermione.

Not yet.

He still remembered Dudley’s drunken warning about erased memories. He didn’t know exactly what triggered their memory-erasing contingencies, but it was too early to test.

As he took the tube toward their agreed meeting spot for a date, he was already thinking about another issue.

His flat. It was shared. Previously, he hadn’t seen that as a priority, but that was before learning something as simple as an invitation could be led to being killed in his sleep. He needed a place of his own … and for that, he needed money.

“Well, I do have a method, don’t I?” he realized, and the moment he stepped out of the station, he gave a quick call to Liam.

“Sam, what a nice surprise,” Liam opened. “Have you had any thoughts about the opportunity?”

“This weekend, right?” he said. “How much is the purse?”

“It’s very good for a beginner,” Liam responded. “Two grand if you win, a grand if you lose. You’re lucky. Usually, beginners are lucky if they can get a few hundred.”

Sam knew that Liam wasn’t lying. One advantage of playing amateur sports, that one hears things, including general rates. But, he also knew since Liam was offering that much without proper testing, he must have been facing a time crunch. “Make it three grand for a win, and we have a deal.”

“Two and a half.”

“Three,” he insisted, and Liam accepted. He could probably push Liam more, but leaving some extra on the table would make things easier. Then, just in case, he added. “Also, in case you have some side deals, be careful. I’m better than you might think,” he warned.

The last thing he needed was for Liam or one of his friends to bet big on him losing just because he was a fresh face, and then blame him for the loss. With the extra skill points from Wesley, he might pay off.

After all, illegal gambling was the reason for the draw. His warning wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would help.

“Don’t worry. I don’t dip my fingers to that side. I just scout the talent. Tomorrow, be at the gym, at seven. We’ll take a car from there.”

Sam nodded and ended the call. Three months ago, before the system, he would have called his decision stupid. A month ago, he would have called it short-sighted. But now, after learning that there were real monsters, a few illegal fights no longer felt like the worst thing that could happen.

Money was important, because he needed a new flat without any roommates who could invite a vampire inside without knowing. It was the only way for him to sleep with peace of mind. Luckily, even if he lost the fight, a thousand pounds would allow him to find a new place, and upgrade the general quality in the first place.

Meanwhile, a win would allow him to cut back his working hours, which would be even better. As for betting on the fight, he didn’t even consider it.

Betting on his own fights was a quick way to get his knees broken by big blokes carrying large sticks.

But, as he approached the park he agreed to meet Hermione, he put those thoughts behind and instead stopped by a shop, picking two sandwiches and some juice. Their initial plan was to pick a restaurant, but with the sun shining, it felt like a mistake.

It was already autumn, so every sunny day was to be treasured.

He didn’t hurry up since he still had half an hour before the agreed meeting time, but when he arrived, Hermione was already waiting for him, fidgeting as she sat on a blanket, with a picnic basket strategically placed to cover her legs somewhat.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to enjoy the nice weather.

He understood why she was fidgeting. She was wearing a skirt, which barely came to her mid-thigh. It wasn’t exactly scandalous, but it was not the way she dressed. Her blouse was similar, with a cleavage that toed the line between cute and sexy.

She looked beautiful enough to draw wandering eyes, which led to her fidgeting.

He smiled as he approached her. For her to react like this, the fashion on the magical side must be even more conservative than her usual preference.

A great sin, though as the beneficiary, he wasn’t complaining.

He caught her gaze, waved, and once the distance was close enough, he pointed at the cute picnic basket in front of her. “It’s good that I’m not the only one who thought about having a nice picnic,” he teased her as he raised the bag while closing the distance. “Though I should have put in more effort.”

She smiled shyly. “It doesn’t—“ she started, which was all she was able to say before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a quick but searing kiss.

Then, he sat next to her, letting his worries disappear for a moment. Learning about vampires had been bad, but after magic and systems, it was easier to accept. There was no need to ruin his fun day.

“So, how was work?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It was hectic, but we managed to handle it. The meeting had been a mess, though. We had a … new filing system for the dentist’s office, which is tricky,” she added, her voice changing halfway, trying to avoid talking about magic.

She was not a good liar, but he let it slide. The last thing he wanted was to complicate the situation. They had a good thing going on in their bubble. Her magical work, just like her fiancee, was a topic to be tiptoed around. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own secrets.

“Should we start eating?” she asked when he opened a bag of crisps.

“Not unless you’re hungry,” he said. Then, he raised the bag. “I kind of have to. A lot of exercise means a lot of calories, and crisps are a decent cheap source.”

“They are not, it’s empty calories.”

“It’s if you have to stuff yourself during work so you can finish a full training session,” he said. He knew it wasn’t ideal, but proper nutrition cost too much. “Now, you were talking about your office.”

“Fine,” she said, and started telling her story. He didn’t interrupt her. Listening to her talk about work was calming. Also, even avoiding magic, there was a lot to complain about, including lazy coworkers who were only there due to nepotism, incompetent bosses, and unnecessary paperwork.

Apparently, office politics were just as frustrating in the magical world.

He hummed, finding her story of mundane complaints relaxing, especially when intersected by occasional kisses.

“That part must be really stressful,” he interrupted her when she told an obscure part.

She tensed a bit. “What do you mean?”

"You get this little crease right here when you worry too much," he explained as he caressed between her eyebrows. She swatted his arm, blushing, and he grinned, stealing a kiss. “Continue.”

But, this time, he didn’t let her talk without his tricks. The fun kind, wandering hands and lingering lips. A little sweet talk had been enough to convince her to sit on his lap.

“This sandwich is delicious,” he said as he took a bite. “The bread is particularly amazing. Where did you get it?”

“Mrs. Weasley … likes baking,” she said, pausing halfway. He ignored the pause, as he recognized the last name from a certain system notification. Combined with her sudden shift, he had a good idea who she was talking about. Her mother-in-law.

After that, he noticed her mood dropping a bit, reality intruding, so he started telling some funny stories, back from he was still training with a team.

“You really miss football, don’t you?” she said.

“I do, but unfortunately, it’s a challenging path. A few succeed, many fail. I just ended up as one of the many losers. But, I’m warming up to boxing,” he said.

Her face scrunched. “Isn’t it painful?”

“True, but at least I own the schedule. That’s the only sport I can reasonably combine with full-time university after I get in,” he said, once again fibbing the truth a bit. After learning about vampires, his desire for higher education had dropped sharply, but he wasn’t going to tell Hermione that.

Not without he could reveal about the existence of the vampires in the process as well. Well, the fact that he knew about it. She must have known about it already.

They finished the food, falling silent. Not because there was a problem, but because he decided to take advantage of it now that the park started to get empty after most people went back to work, leaving their spot conveniently vacated.

His hand, previously resting on her knee, climbed up so that it was resting on her inner thigh, where her skirt covered, and started brushing against her soft flesh. She gulped.

“You’re fidgeting again,” he whispered playfully.

“Because you keep poking—” She inhaled when his hand slid further, resting against her wetness. “Sam!” she hissed. “There are still people.”

“We’re far away,” he responded.

“They can still see where your hand is,” she said.

He smiled and pulled the empty part of the blanket over her legs. “Now they can’t,” he said, his fingers dancing against her wetness.

“That is not how a picnic—”

He kissed her quietly, slow enough to look merely romantic from a distance, but his fingers between her legs already pulled her panties to the side, and directly teasing her entrance. His other hand rested on her belly, but above her shirt, reinforcing the innocent look from a distance.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t imagining it since you sat on my lap,” he challenged her.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But just because I imagined it doesn’t mean we have to act on it. What if we get caught?”

“Then, we’ll get caught,” he whispered, then let his voice sharpen. “Open your legs.” She did, her submissive side still too easy to trigger. “Good girl,” he whispered, and she shivered.

“You’re evil,” she whispered.

He laughed softly, then kissed her neck while his fingers moved faster. “That’s the fault of your body, as sweet as sin.”

She moaned in protest, but with her warmth already drawing his fingers in, it was not much of a protest. Soon, her hips rebelled, picking up a rocking pace. He responded by freeing his shaft. “Sam,” she whispered. “We can’t. Not here.”

“We can if you’re quiet,” he said as he hooked her panties aside, his shaft pressing against her entrance.

“You’re evil,” she repeated, but her hips still came down, devouring him. She bit her lip hard to contain her moan, her walls tight around him.

“Good girl,” he said very softly.

He responded with the pace of his hips, and she trembled. He steadied her body with his free hand, making sure the moment looked romantic … to some degree of success.

A jogger passed near them, her walkman strapped to her waist, so she didn’t hear Hermione’s whimper. His hips kept moving, steady and deep, and felt her clench around them in helpless rhythm. “You’re lucky she’s wearing earplugs,” he murmured, teasing her as if it were her fault.

“I hate you,” she breathed. There were times such words might hurt. Right now, as she hit a desperate climax after the burst of adrenaline, was not one of those times.

[Spectacular Personal Victory, +10 Tantric]

[Secondary Special Character Defeated, Hermione Granger]

[+5 Wand Magic Theory]

[Secondary Special Character Defeated, Ron Weasley]

[+5 Chess]

Desperate to silence him, she kissed him hard. She bit his lip as well, hard enough to leave a mark, punishing him at the same time. He just chuckled, still inside her. He was also happy to get a boosted Tantric reward, but mostly because it confirmed the nature of victory might change the end result.

It might be useful in the future.

“Are you happy now?” she muttered after her trembling stopped.

“Oh, not yet,” he responded, and much to her shock, continued to move. This time, he was the one who picked up the pace, taking full control. Even with their preparation, what they were doing was impossible to hide, so he was careful watching around to make sure their privacy survived.

At least, to the degree it was possible in a public park in the middle of the day.

Her hips lost control, rocking wildly. “That’s it,” he whispered. “Ride me fast. Just try not to moan.”

“I can’t—” she responded, interrupted by a moan. To be fair, it was difficult for him to hold back as well, the pleasure hitting hard, especially with the stress of the last night.

He clamped his hand over her mouth, stopping his attempts to make things innocent. No one was in their line of sight, so he decided to take advantage. He fucked her in hard, devastating pushes, making her bounce in a way that was impossible to be mistaken, feeling her tighten around him.

This time, he exploded, triggering her climax, barely holding back a groan, which came with a funny surprise.

There was no reward.

Apparently, the system counted it as a loss.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, which made Hermione look back. “What’s so funny?” she asked, defensive.

“Your cute purrs, like a kitten,” he responded, not really ready to explain the weird rules of his secret system. As he expected, she blushed while she fixed her outfit and slid to sit by his side.

He didn’t stop her. There was a difference between playfully pushing her to the edge of her comfort zone and making her uncomfortable. Instead, he hooked his arm around her waist, letting her rest against his chest.

They stayed like that, while he was already planning the next leg of their date.

However, he was interrupted by a loud flipping of wings. He looked, only to see an owl circling above them. A weird thing to happen during the day, but he could see paper stuck in the poor bird’s leg.

He turned Hermione, about to ask her whether they could help, when he saw her panicking. “I need to visit the ladies’ room,” she whispered, standing up hurriedly.

“Sure,” he said, acting deliberately nonchalant, guessing it was another detail about magical society when he saw the owl following Hermione.

It likely meant that the paper stuck on its leg was some kind of message, which was a weird method of communication. Like messenger pigeons, but with owls.

He decided to ignore it. Hermione returned to his side five minutes later, looking guilty. “Let me guess. While visiting the ladies’ room, you got a call, summoning you for an emergency.”

She looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I know I promised a full day—“

He interrupted her with a gentle kiss. “Don’t worry about it,” he said as he stood up, helping her tidy up the picnic stuff. “You can’t control your work. It’s already impressive you managed to steal half a day. But that means you owe me your entire weekend. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, her smile back.

At least he had time to look for a new flat.