The Corp-Vamps

CEO Lord Vance did not inherit Neo-London's crimson towers. He started behind the counter of Ad-Vance Bloodware - a small boutique of advanced cyber-tech he engineered himself - driven by sheer ambition, hard determination, and a relentless will to climb. While the old blood treated acceleration like a disease, he made invention a weapon and climbed until the Corp-Vamps answered to him alone. Now he leads as more than a figurehead: a living mandate etched into the city's turf wars, written in influence, currency, and the quiet terror of those who still believe Neo-London has laws.

Among The Corp-Vamps, CFO Mr. Nightshade is the boardroom and the war room in one body, a commander the streets learn to fear by silhouette alone. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Street proverb still mutters: "The phantom accountant who bleeds competitor treasuries dry." Their ledger is written in influence, currency, and the quiet terror of those who still believe the city has laws.

Miss Bloodwood rose through The Corp-Vamps's inner circle as more than a figurehead - a living mandate etched into Neo-London's turf wars. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Street proverb still mutters: "Queen of high-society extortion and political leverage." Their ledger is written in influence, currency, and the quiet terror of those who still believe the city has laws.

Whispers in Neo-London say Lady Morana was engineered for one purpose: to turn The Corp-Vamps's ambitions into corpses and contracts. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Once per turn: gain +1 Influence. Street proverb still mutters: "A towering executive whose presence freezes opposition." On the board they are singular - one body, one legend, and a trail of ruined contingencies behind them.

Director of Hostile Acquisitions is not hired muscle. Inside The Corp-Vamps, this champion is a doctrine given teeth, deployed when subtlety has already failed. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Once per turn: gain +1 Influence. Street proverb still mutters: "Shatters enemy infrastructure and redirects feeds." On the board they are singular - one body, one legend, and a trail of ruined contingencies behind them.

Market Manipulator is not hired muscle. Inside The Corp-Vamps, this champion is a doctrine given teeth, deployed when subtlety has already failed. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Once per turn: gain +1 Influence. Street proverb still mutters: "Freezes enemy units permanently via lethal digital injunctions." On the board they are singular - one body, one legend, and a trail of ruined contingencies behind them.

Whispers in Neo-London say The Crimson Enforcer was engineered for one purpose: to turn The Corp-Vamps's ambitions into corpses and contracts. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Once per turn: gain +1 Influence. Street proverb still mutters: "A colossal cyber-enforcer in blood-plated armor." On the board they are singular - one body, one legend, and a trail of ruined contingencies behind them.

Whispers in Neo-London say The Immortality Board Chairman was engineered for one purpose: to turn The Corp-Vamps's ambitions into corpses and contracts. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Once per turn: gain +1 Influence. Street proverb still mutters: "An elite assassin-executive who phase-shifts past counter-measures." On the board they are singular - one body, one legend, and a trail of ruined contingencies behind them.

Operatives like Blood Market Vendor do not wear faction colors openly. They slip between alleys and subnets as The Corp-Vamps's deniable blade. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. No badge. No parade. Just a title and a job that never makes the official minutes. They do not hold turf. They puncture it, then vanish before the after-action report finishes compiling.

HR Manager is a specialist title whispered on black channels - the kind of edge-work The Corp-Vamps pretends it never authorized. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. No badge. No parade. Just a title and a job that never makes the official minutes. They do not hold turf. They puncture it, then vanish before the after-action report finishes compiling.

Operatives like Night Auditor do not wear faction colors openly. They slip between alleys and subnets as The Corp-Vamps's deniable blade. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. No badge. No parade. Just a title and a job that never makes the official minutes. They do not hold turf. They puncture it, then vanish before the after-action report finishes compiling.

Severance Specialist is a specialist title whispered on black channels - the kind of edge-work The Corp-Vamps pretends it never authorized. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. No badge. No parade. Just a title and a job that never makes the official minutes. They do not hold turf. They puncture it, then vanish before the after-action report finishes compiling.

Surveillance Operator is a specialist title whispered on black channels - the kind of edge-work The Corp-Vamps pretends it never authorized. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. No badge. No parade. Just a title and a job that never makes the official minutes. They do not hold turf. They puncture it, then vanish before the after-action report finishes compiling.

When The Corp-Vamps needs bodies on the turf, Blood-Debt Enforcers answer the call - street fodder with just enough chrome to matter. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Street proverb still mutters: "Elite corporate security thugs in bespoke body armor." They die loud, get replaced louder, and keep the machine of syndicate war grinding forward.

When The Corp-Vamps needs bodies on the turf, Corporate Ghouls answer the call - street fodder with just enough chrome to matter. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Street proverb still mutters: "Expendable street trash wired into the penthouse mainframe." They die loud, get replaced louder, and keep the machine of syndicate war grinding forward.

Sanguine Sifters fill the cheap seats of war: expendable, hungry, and paid enough to forget who owns tomorrow. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Street proverb still mutters: "Low-tier administrative vampires harvesting street-level digital vitae." They die loud, get replaced louder, and keep the machine of syndicate war grinding forward.

Tourists see a structure. Syndicates see Factory: a living node in The Corp-Vamps's grip on Neo-London's map. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: While crewed: +3 Resources at the start of Income I. Crew it or watch it go idle - Neo-London does not forgive empty architecture. As long as it stands crewed and humming, the surrounding blocks remember who collects the night's tithe.

Tourists see a structure. Syndicates see Commercial Centre: a living node in The Corp-Vamps's grip on Neo-London's map. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: While crewed: +3 Currency at the start of Income I. Street proverb still mutters: "Permanently increases baseline passive Resource production by +2 during the Income Stage." As long as it stands crewed and humming, the surrounding blocks remember who collects the night's tithe.

Bank is architecture as warfare. Raised on contested turf, it anchors The Corp-Vamps's claim in steel, code, and ritual. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: While crewed: +1 Currency on each opponent's Income II (minted; does not drain opponents). Crew it or watch it go idle - Neo-London does not forgive empty architecture. As long as it stands crewed and humming, the surrounding blocks remember who collects the night's tithe.

Tourists see a structure. Syndicates see Police Force: a living node in The Corp-Vamps's grip on Neo-London's map. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: While crewed: +1 DEF 🎲 when any of your cards are attacked (stacks with other Compliance Hubs). Street proverb still mutters: "Restricts enemy movement vectors across adjacent turf sectors and siphons output." As long as it stands crewed and humming, the surrounding blocks remember who collects the night's tithe.

Crypt-Zero Cold Storage is architecture as warfare. Raised on contested turf, it anchors The Corp-Vamps's claim in steel, code, and ritual. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Your Overlord and creatures roll +1 ATK die until end of turn. Building enters recovery for 1 turn. Usable during Manage or Confrontation. Street proverb still mutters: "Shields a portion of your resource pools from being plundered during enemy Raids." As long as it stands crewed and humming, the surrounding blocks remember who collects the night's tithe.

Black Market is architecture as warfare. Raised on contested turf, it anchors The Corp-Vamps's claim in steel, code, and ritual. In the districts haunted by crimson glass towers and contracts signed in vitae, their legend sticks to wet pavement. Field reports reduce their myth to one ugly sentence: Unique (only one Black Market in the game). While crewed: enables the Black Market trade stage for all players. Crew it or watch it go idle - Neo-London does not forgive empty architecture. As long as it stands crewed and humming, the surrounding blocks remember who collects the night's tithe.

Monofilament Fangs is chrome for corp-vamps. +2 ATK; attacks ignore armor defense rolls when targeting creatures with lower HP than this unit.

Subdermal Hemopump is chrome for corp-vamps. +2 HP; whenever this unit slays an enemy card, fully restore its HP.

Blood Siphon is sold as a productivity implant. In Corp-Vamps clinics it is a leash: when steel meets flesh, the attacker pays in blood and the host drinks it back.

Audit Seizure is a corp-vamps signature play. Force an enemy player to lose 3 Currency; if they cannot pay, choose and destroy 1 active enemy Mercenary.

Blood Tariff is a corp-vamps signature play. Choose an enemy creature. Its owner must pay 2 Currency and that creature takes 3 damage.

Hostile Takeover is a corp-vamps signature play. Force an enemy creature into Recovery Mode for 2 turns unless the owner pays a 4 Currency ransom immediately.

Vampiric Drain is a corp-vamps signature play. Choose an enemy creature. Steal 3 HP from it and gain +1 Influence.

Corp-Vamps auditors do not negotiate with underperformers. The weakest asset is written off - permanently.

Corp-Vamps lawyers encode retaliation in blood. Sign the clause and your strike is photocopied - same force, aimed at the wrist that threw it.