In front of a building with a strong sci-fi feel.
"This is it. Any plan?" Mike asked.
"Yes!" Blade said, "Go in, then kill every Vampire we encounter."
"This plan is truly... thoughtful." Mike nodded, "But I have no objections."
"Just as I wished." Night Werewolf's style was always to charge in head-on.
"Whatever." Morbius shrugged, "Anyway, I'm not the one at the front."
The combat "plan" was settled in a few words, making the meeting concise and efficient.
Night Werewolf's body suddenly swelled, bursting his clothes, then he howled and charged directly towards the main entrance.
He could have taken off his clothes before transforming... Tsk tsk, having a rich family sure makes a difference.
Clang!
The tempered glass door was shattered by Night Werewolf, and dense gunshots echoed from inside.
Morbius spread his arms, flew into the air, and disappeared into the night sky.
Blade and Mike walked inside.
Night Werewolf's battle scene was still incredibly bloody. However, the Vampires fighting him were clearly not comparable to the small fry from the Vampire factory.
Night Werewolf was suppressed.
"Suppressed" was a euphemism; to be precise, he was being shown off by several Vampires, taking bullets with his body.
These Vampires wore three-color camouflage, steel helmets, and standard special forces weapons, with their tactical coordination showing a strong Seal Team style. Clearly, these Vampires were either directly converted soldiers or had undergone military training after becoming Vampires.
This indicates that the Vampires' influence has already infiltrated the military. This is a very dangerous signal. If left unchecked, in another hundred or so years, the U.S. major parties might have to add a Vampire Party.
Blade and Mike exchanged glances, simultaneously drawing their Blades and joining the fight, one on the left and one on the right.
The situation immediately turned around.
Soon, seven or eight Vampire corpses, turning into ashes, lay on the ground.
"Are you alright?" Mike saw that Night Werewolf seemed a bit wobbly, unable to stand steadily.
"N-no, I'm fine." Night Werewolf's voice was rough, like his throat was lined with coarse sandpaper.
He shook his head.
Two bullets flew out.
"Much better." Night Werewolf rumbled.
Immediately after, dozens of bullets squeezed out of the bullet holes on his body, clinking and clanking to the ground, and the wounds healed in the blink of an eye.
Night Werewolf's skin could withstand police pistols, but not military standard rifles. However, for Night Werewolf, it was still not fatal.
Night Werewolf was about to charge to the second floor. Mike pulled him back.
"Such great strength." Mike's arm didn't look thick, yet he was able to hold him back, which surprised Night Werewolf. He was secretly alarmed and also wondered why Mike stopped him.
Mike didn't explain, but instead tore off a piece of curtain and threw it towards the entrance to the second floor.
Da da da...
Super dense gunshots, bullets hitting the floor and walls, sending concrete fragments flying.
"Machine guns!" Night Werewolf's expression changed.
If he had charged in directly just now, he wouldn't have died, but it would have definitely given him a hard time.
"Wait a little longer." Mike said.
Wait for what?
Night Werewolf was puzzled, but didn't ask, just scratched his chest with his claws, somewhat irritated. After turning into a Werewolf, despite being able to suppress his bestiality, he was still very impulsive and irritable.
Two Vampire guards stood at the stairwell, their weapons M249 light machine guns. They were focused, staring at the stairwell.
The stairs leading to the second floor were designed as a straight ramp, not the common ">" shape.
Two light machine guns provided overlapping defense, giving off a "one man can hold off ten thousand" vibe.
Of course, there was also an elevator, but the plastic explosives installed inside could blow people and the elevator car sky-high.
The two Vampire gunmen didn't notice a Shadow silently approaching from behind them.
"Hehehe..." The black Shadow let out a strange laugh.
The two Vampire gunmen were horrified and looked back. What awaited them were Morbius's sharp, pointed nails.
Swish! Swish!
The two Vampires were slit at the throat. Their eyes showed expressions of horror. Vampires are not humans; a slit throat or a kick to the groin are not fatal wounds. Under normal circumstances, the bleeding would stop quickly, and then the wound would heal.
However, they were stunned to find that the blood not only didn't stop but flowed out faster. They dropped their guns and desperately clutched their throats with both hands.
But it was useless.
A few seconds later, the two Vampires turned into mummified corpses with bulging eyes, curled up.
Two lumps of blood, like living red slimes, hopped, hopped, hopped into the black Shadow's cloak.
Mike: "Let's go."
The three went upstairs, only to see two strangely deceased mummified corpses.
"It's Morbius's doing." Blade said.
Along the way, Vampires occasionally popped out, but they were completely unable to stop the trio's progress. The occasional mummified corpses seemed to be Morbius displaying his presence.
About ten minutes later, the three arrived at the top floor, and Morbius descended from the ceiling with a whoosh.
The short-haired man leading the group opposite was powerfully built, exuded a fierce aura, and wore retro clothing.
"Is this Dracula?" Mike asked Blade. Morbius with his mustache shaved off was the image of Dracula Mike imagined.
Blade shook his head, his expression serious: "He's not like the Dracula I've seen, but Dracula can change his appearance. After his resurrection, his appearance often changes, but he will eventually return to his original form."
Morbius licked his lips, his eyes flashing red, and he excitedly said: "He has the scent of Dracula's blood on him. That's right, it's this aura, although not strong enough, it's enough to make other Vampires submit."
"Dracula" stepped forward, looking down disdainfully: "Hmph! Werewolf, Vampire, half-breed, human, what an interesting combination. Dracula? I am him, and I am not him. I prefer to be called Drake!"
Drake's gaze fell on Mike: "Are you Mike?"
"That's right."
"I can feel your power, but no matter how powerful, it cannot withstand the power of time. When you are old and frail, your former power will turn into a smile. Accept my first embrace, and when I sleep, you will become the King of Vampires, second only to me, above all others." Drake's gaze was sharp and domineering, his tone carrying an undeniable authority.
Mike couldn't help but let out a "Pfft" of laughter.
This guy must have slept for too long, his brain's broken, right? An ancient version of the "domineering CEO"?
It is said that high-ranking Vampires can obtain others' memories from blood. Doesn't he know that with technological advancement, there are many ways to live longer? Why turn himself into something neither human nor ghost?
Why do ancient Vampires often fall into slumber?
One reason: their seven emotions and six desires gradually disappear with the passage of time. Once they disappear, they are living wood.
No opposite sex to desire, no delicious food to eat, no things to do... What's the point of living like that?
Mike's laugh caused zero damage, but the insult was Max. Drake suppressed his anger: "You will regret this. Kill them."
Talos, behind him, led his remaining subordinates, charging towards Mike.
Fierce and menacing.
Night Werewolf roared and charged forward, knocking over two Vampires blocking his way, then was intercepted by two other Vampires.
The Werewolf curse gives Night Werewolf a natural hostility towards Vampires, just like two species that are natural enemies; when they meet, they must kill the other side.
It's uncomfortable if they don't fight.
Upon encountering Drake, Night Werewolf's bestiality seemed uncontrollable.