The true notoriety of Blade—the Daywalker—might have been unknown to the freshly converted half-breed Vampires, but among the pure-blood lineages, his name was legendary.
In the modern age, the elders of virtually every major clan had distributed warnings featuring his photo: Cherish life, steer clear of Blade. His reputation in the Vampire world rivaled that of the most wanted criminals, a figure plastered on metaphorical wanted posters across the supernatural underworld.
The Vampire girl clinging to Zhou Yi immediately recognized Blade and his terrifying reputation. She instinctively clutched Zhou Yi like a cornered animal, seeking shelter behind his tall, sturdy frame.
Blade wicked look, a chilling flash of fangs, was enough to intimidate her completely. Zhou Yi could feel her body lock up, rigid with fright. Though he knew Blade was just trying to scare her off, Zhou Yi was slightly exasperated by the hunter's sheer deterrent power; the girl's reaction was too extreme.
He turned, embraced her stiff body, gently stroking her back, and addressed Blade with mock disapproval: "Hey, pal. Is it fun to scare a girl?"
Blade showed a mocking, toothy smile. "The girl behind you isn't a harmless pet. She might just bite you to death."
Zhou Yi, who was enjoying the game, rolled his eyes. "Brother, you're a Dark Hero. Violence is your solution. Can you skip the lecture?" He didn't want Blade to ruin his chance at some fun.
"Pal, this doesn't concern you. If I were you, I'd find another dance partner instead of disturbing me." With that, Zhou Yi pushed past the Vampires paralyzed by Blade's presence and walked away, the girl in tow.
Blade watched Zhou Yi's retreating back, shrugged, and even offered a casual middle finger. He'd tried to save an unlucky human, but the idiot hadn't taken the hint. Do I really look that much like a bad guy? Blade wondered.
As they moved away from the main crowd, the Vampire girl looked at Blade—now gone—and the Vampires who'd ceased their aggression. A surge of unimaginable excitement overwhelmed her. The adrenaline rush of brushing past death, of conquering the obstacle that was Blade, was thrilling for a young, rebellious creature.
This intense, ecstatic pleasure caused an unusual emotion to bloom in her heart toward the man holding her hand. It was the admiration of the weak for the strong, coupled with the terrifying possessiveness inherent in all beings. She wanted to transform Zhou Yi, to make him a Vampire so she could possess his formidable power forever.
Driven by this sudden, desperate urge, the girl became unusually eager. She actively pulled Zhou Yi's hand, almost jogging, dragging him toward the small, empty rooms on the second floor.
Zhou Yi observed her frantic actions, finding the situation increasingly interesting.
Meanwhile, the Blood Clan Guard roaming the dance floor made a disastrous discovery.
Light Axe, still nursing the internal wounds of his defeat at the hands of the Dawn Knight, had grown restless. Though his physical injuries were healed by fresh blood, his pride was shattered. He rejected the company of his beloved Weilian, grabbed a heavy hammer to replace his ruined axe, and sulked into the empty back kitchen.
He was searching aimlessly when a clang of pots echoed behind him. He spun around. Squatting on a stove was a shirtless, hairless, oddly-shaped creature with murky, strange eyes.
The creature's look of mocking, predatory assessment instantly brought back the humiliation Light Axe felt, mentally overlaying this new monster with the shadow of the Dawn Knight. Enraged, Light Axe roared and lunged, swinging his giant hammer.
On the other side of the club, Rehart was also ambushed.
Having quickly tired of searching the crowd, the bald Vampire leader jumped onto the stage. From the edge, he could clearly monitor most of the dance floor. He felt a perverse satisfaction watching Blade scurrying into the corridor like a frantic rodent.
He was so focused on Blade that he missed the anomaly behind him: a hooded figure approaching slowly. The figure was hunched, his clothes draped rather than worn, revealing a chest structure unlike any human or Vampire—ribs and chest completely fused and protruding, an exceptionally strange and disgusting sight.
The hooded figure moved with calculated silence, creeping up behind Rehart without alerting him.
However, Rehart's long-time partner, Chuba, saw everything from his position below the stage. He recognized the shape immediately: the Alien Species. Without warning, Chuba raised his rifle and opened fire behind Rehart.
The rifle was loaded with .45 caliber silver-plated bullets, the tips containing silver nitrate and garlic extract—a concoction lethal to Vampires. Chuba didn't care about the other Vampires on stage; saving Rehart was his priority. Since most present were half-breeds, he felt no need to hold back.
Chuba unleashed half a clip in a single breath. The stage was filled with muzzle flash and the sight of Vampires instantly incinerating into ashes. But the Alien Species, the intended target, proved unexpectedly resilient.
The silver-plated bullets hit, but unlike with Vampires, they barely left a mark. There was no flash of fire, not even a significant hole. The silver nitrate and garlic extract only caused the wounds to ooze a thin layer of pus. Had he not witnessed the tragic demise of the other Vampires, Chuba would have suspected Whistler had given them blanks.
The sudden commotion caused a frantic stampede. Rehart, a seasoned partner, needed no explanation. The moment Chuba's gunfire ceased, he spun around and immediately opened fire.
Rehart's weapon was a brutal tool modified by old Whistler: an XM1014 shotgun converted into a high-speed arrow gun. It ditched bulky bullets for pure silver, one-inch caliber spikes, powered by an enhanced pneumatic structure. This weapon had a firing rate of 6,000 feet per second. It was Whistler's ultimate countermeasure against pure-blood Vampires, now wielded by a Vampire himself.
Pulling the bolt, then the trigger, Rehart fired four silver arrows in quick succession. The blunt-headed spikes didn't penetrate deeply but slammed the target backward with tremendous kinetic energy. The silver remained lodged in the creature's body.
A weapon capable of one-shotting a pure-blood Vampire had struck. Rehart raised the gun and kissed it, captivated by the raw violence of the firearm.
But even this devastating weapon failed to secure the kill.
Heavily wounded, the Alien Species scrambled up from the corner and fled on all fours. Its speed was astonishing; even the battle-hardened Vampires could barely track its shadow. Shooting was futile.
The two quickly lost sight of the creature, but that was no longer their immediate concern. All members of the Blood Clan Guard were now under attack, and their specialized weapons were proving ineffective. The hunt had gone catastrophically off script.