The vampires quickly regained their composure.
"Just a human. Nice knife, but that's it," one hissed.
Their bodies were leagues above any mortal. Dodge the weird cleaver, and he was meat.
Dozens sneered and charged, fangs bared, claws flashing.
Eyes of the God of Death!
Time crawled.
Daniel flicked his wrist.
Shnk! Shnk!
Two heads rolled. Two bodies burst into ash mid-sprint.
No pause.
He waded in, watermelon knife singing, strength stat doing what it did best.
Ash exploded like gray fireworks with every swing.
The entire club froze for half a second, then the rest lost their minds and swarmed.
Daniel grinned and dove straight into the horde.
Bite this, claw that, no tactics, just feral. Against a Nichirin blade and maxed Strength? Child's play.
Raise. Slash. Raise. Slash.
No mercy, no blinking.
Soon the floor was carpeted in dust, ankle-deep in places.
The last handful cowered in a corner.
"Don't come closer!"
Who's the monster now?
Shnk! Shnk! Shnk!
Silence.
Daniel flicked ash off the blade. Kill count: 34.
He strolled out, casually beheaded the two door guards (vampires, obviously), and whistled.
"System, paint me some targets."
A dozen blood-red markers bloomed across the New York map, courtesy of the terrified redhead he'd interrogated earlier.
Daniel cracked his neck.
"Grind time."
For the next three days, he became a one-man apocalypse.
Bars, clubs, even a whole damn church (priest, nuns, janitor, all vamps). Didn't matter.
South side to north side, three sleepless nights, four hundred and twenty-seven vampires turned to confetti.
Residents only complained about the weird gray snow that wouldn't stop falling.
Fourth night.
The next nest was locked down like Fort Knox: extra guards, steel shutters, the works.
Word had spread.
Daniel crouched in the shadows across the street, sizing it up, when a gravelly voice spoke right behind his ear.
"Vampire Killer?"
He spun, knife half-raised. Nothing.
"Left."
Daniel finally spotted him: tall black guy in a leather trench coat, shades at night, literally blending into the dark like a DLC skin.
Daniel's eyes went wide. "Bro, that stealth is broken! I didn't even get a red outline!"
Blade: "…"
He was just standing there.
"What did you call me?" Daniel asked.
"Vampire Killer. That's what the bloodsuckers are screaming about. Four hundred plus dead in three days. Gotta be you."
"Lame nickname," Daniel muttered, then eyed Blade up and down. "You?"
"Blade. Same hobby."
"Ah. Competition for my mobs."
The watermelon knife twirled once, thoughtfully.
Blade raised both hands. "Relax. I'm not here for your kills. I want Deacon Frost. One of his top lieutenants is inside, but thanks to your murder spree, every nest is on lockdown. We kick the door, the rat bolts down the sewers, and we lose him."
Daniel tilted his head. Made sense. These mobs actually had brains and ran.
"So?"
"Team-up. You get every other vampire in there. I just need the lieutenant alive for five minutes."
Daniel opened his mouth to refuse on general principles.
"I've got twenty more nests that aren't on your map yet."
"Partner!" Daniel's hand shot out instantly. "Pleasure doing business."