Thud!
The receptionist, with her neck twisted, collapsed to the ground.
!?
The manager, witnessing the scene, was momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected that Ryan, a mere human, could possess the strength to snap a vampire's neck.
However, the manager quickly regained her composure. With a swift sidestep, she narrowly avoided Ryan's downward kick.
Boom!
Ryan's right leg smashed through the pinewood desk, splitting it in half.
"My desk!"
Watching the desk, which had accompanied her for over a hundred years, reduced to worthless rubble filled the manager with rage. She immediately swung her claws at the back of Ryan's head.
Whoosh! The claws whistled through the air.
!!
Sensing the imminent danger, Ryan quickly rolled to the right, narrowly avoiding the claws that seemed capable of tearing through metal.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The manager showed no signs of stopping, leaving Ryan no opportunity to regain his footing.
Crack!
At that moment, the "dead" receptionist suddenly raised her hands, gripping her temples to reset her head with a gruesome twist, then stood up in a disturbingly unnatural manner.
"That hurt, Mr. Westeros!" The receptionist, now visibly angry, watched as Ryan, having finally found an opening, kicked the manager away and stood back up. She demanded, "What did we do wrong to deserve this?!"
"He's a spy, Vaneesha! Nightfall has been exposed! A special forces team has breached the front door!" The manager had already deduced Ryan's true identity.
"What?!" The younger receptionist quickly understood and, baring her fangs, lunged at Ryan. "If that's the case, then you'll become one of us, Mr. Westeros!"
"Like hell I will!" Ryan kicked the slower-moving receptionist away.
With some distance gained, Ryan began strategizing his escape.
He knew vampires were powerful, but he hadn't expected them to be this difficult to deal with, especially the manager, who, despite her youthful appearance, could be over two hundred years old.
One-on-one might have been manageable, but two-on-one was overwhelming.
So, Ryan quickly reached behind his back, mimicking the motion of drawing a gun.
!?
Though the manager wasn't afraid of ordinary firearms, she hesitated at this action.
Thud! Thud!
Ryan turned and ran, leaving the two female vampires behind.
"Cowardly human! Face me directly!" Enraged by the sight, the manager sprinted after him at lightning speed.
"Sir! You can't escape!" The receptionist followed closely.
Bursting out of the office, Ryan stopped running when he reached a wider, more foul-smelling cell block. He grabbed a rusty, bloodstained metal spike from a rack of various torture devices to use as a weapon.
"Human!"
At that moment, the manager launched herself forward with a powerful leap, baring her fangs as she aimed for Ryan's neck.
Ryan's impressive stamina and combat skills had convinced the manager to forcibly transform him. She wanted to first replenish her tribe with this strong, young blood before considering her next move to evacuate Nightfall.
But Ryan seemed to time his move perfectly. He raised his right hand, gripping the spike that resembled a sharpened iron rod, and swung it with all his might.
Thud!
A dull thud echoed through the room.
"Ah!" A sharp scream followed.
The manager, struck in the head, crashed to the ground, rolling several times before coming to a stop, clearly needing some time to recover and temporarily losing her ability to move.
"Mr. Westeros, stop resisting! The weapon in your hand can't kill us!" The receptionist, who had caught up, was now locked in combat with Ryan. She dodged his attacks while shouting loudly.
Suddenly, a sharp tearing sound filled the air as Ryan plunged the spike into the receptionist's abdomen, causing dark red, viscous blood to pour from the wound.
"Haha! I've got you now, Mr. Westeros!"
But the receptionist seemed unfazed, instead grabbing Ryan's right forearm tightly with her left hand.
Smelling her own blood, her eyes turned blood red as she licked her cracked lips with excitement. "Finally, I get to taste your delicious blood, haha!"
"Get lost! I have no interest in you!"
Cursing, Ryan used the momentum to retreat, causing the receptionist to miss her mark. He quickly leveraged his captured right arm as a pivot, spinning his body in the opposite direction, and used his legs to trap the opponent's left arm.
Then, with his left hand, he quickly locked onto her head, forming a flying armbar in an instant.
Ryan pulled with all his might, applying intense torque to the receptionist's left arm and wrist.
Crack!
"Ah!"
The crisp sound of bones breaking was followed by another anguished scream.
The armbar easily broke the receptionist's left arm, allowing Ryan to free himself from her grasp.
However, despite her shattered left arm and the stab wound to her abdomen, the receptionist remained unbothered. She struggled to her feet, grinned at Ryan from a short distance away, and sneered, "Hehe~ You won't get away from me, sir. I'll make you my slave, forever serving me—"
Rat-a-tat-tat!
Suddenly, the distinct sound of a machine gun interrupted her threats.
It was the ARS team, equipped with black tactical gear, arriving on the scene. The lead gunner used screen-locking and smart explosive rounds to sever the receptionist's limbs, forcing her to become a "ghostly figure."
The manager, who had just recovered, met the same fate, losing her limbs and being reduced to a ghostly figure as well.
Although Ryan couldn't kill any of the vampires with the iron spike in his hand, the various explosive rounds used by the ARS team, especially the BFG plasma gun wielded by the ARS team leader, were more than capable of blowing vampires to pieces or burning them to ash.
Next:
"Agent located, secure!"
"Area secure!"
"Delta team, advance. Charlie team, hold position."
"Let's move."
The sound of the ARS team swiftly securing the area echoed throughout the cell block.
After eliminating the two visible vampires, one squad remained on guard, while another maintained a tight formation as they moved forward to clear other areas.
"Phew!"
Ryan finally let out a sigh of relief, feeling a sense of liberation.
As he looked at the still-dazed receptionist, a thought came to mind, and he suddenly laughed to himself, saying, "Instructor Krauser, I think the flying armbar works really well."
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