Chapter 52

A/N: I've got fever. I feel like I would be the happiest person in the world if I die right now. Battling through dizziness and a runny nose, I managed to translate a chapter. If I get good tomorrow, I will upload. But if I don't upload tomorrow just assume that the fever got worse. Bye.

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WUUUUU!

A sharp sound pierced the air, making everyone freeze. Both the blood servants and the man in sunglasses were momentarily stunned. What was that sound?

Breathing?

But what kind of breath could cause such a disruption? What kind of lungs could draw in so much air with such force?

In the next moment, it became clear.

The man planted his right foot firmly into the ground, and an immense surge of power rippled through his body. His leg tensed, pushing back slightly, and then—BOOM—an explosive force erupted from him.

Waves of scorching heat radiated in all directions, sweeping over the room like flames. Even the cold-blooded vampires, normally indifferent to temperature, winced at the sudden, intense heat.

Under their stunned and bewildered gazes, the man grinned.

He gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands and lifted it high.

Boom!

A deafening explosion rocked the room as the man transformed into a blazing firestorm, tearing through the nightclub like a dragon. In a matter of seconds, he moved through the tightly packed blood servants, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Scarlet sparks scattered as he reappeared at the entrance behind the blood servants. With a swift motion, he swung the cross sword, sending embers flying.

For a moment, everything seemed frozen. Then—thud—all the blood servants' heads dropped to the ground simultaneously, and their bodies ignited like kerosene-soaked barrels. The nightclub was filled with screams of despair as the fiery blaze consumed them, turning each one into ash. The once-crowded room was now eerily empty.

"What the hell just happened?"

The man in sunglasses, who had been prepared to start his own killing spree, was dumbfounded. His usually cold demeanor cracked as disbelief spread across his dark-skinned face. There had been hundreds of blood servants in the nightclub. While they weren't a match for him, they were more than enough to overwhelm ordinary people. It would've taken him time to wipe them all out.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, they were all gone. And what was that flame?

A mutant, perhaps?

For the first time in a long while, the man, Eric Brooks felt a genuine interest stir within him as he looked at this stranger.

As Eric watched the man leave the nightclub, he cracked his neck and decided to follow. He paid no attention to the chaotic screams of the crowd, who had just narrowly escaped death.

Outside, the nearby streetlights barely flickered, casting dim shadows over the alley. Eric saw the man preparing to mount a motorcycle. Approaching him, Eric stumbled a bit and called out, "Hey, are you a vampire hunter?"

The man, already seated on his motorcycle with his sword placed carefully beside him, looked over. "No," he replied simply.

Under the faint streetlights, Eric could finally get a good look at the man. He was young, neither white nor black, but had distinct Eastern European features.

"Sergei," the man introduced himself, extending his hand.

"Eric Brooks," Brooks responded, shaking Sergei's hand firmly.

Sergei had been sent by Leon. Although he didn't fully understand why Leon needed a blood sample from a real vampire, he wasn't one to ask too many questions. His job was to carry out the mission. Leon had provided them with some basic intel, but they were largely on their own for tracking down the rest—part mission, part experience-building.

Sergei could tell that Eric, the man in front of him, knew a lot about vampires.

"So, what are your next plans?" Eric asked bluntly, his tone direct and to the point.

Sergei could sense that Brooks wasn't the best at small talk, but it didn't bother him. He appreciated the straightforwardness, and there was no reason to hide his intentions either.

"The woman mentioned the Century Building as the vampire headquarters," Sergei said, his sentence trailing off. Eric's eyes lit up beneath his sunglasses, ready to respond, but before he could speak, Sergei had already revved the engine of his motorcycle. The exhaust roared as Sergei sped down the street, leaving only a parting line.

"Good night, Mr. Eric."

Watching Sergei disappear into the distance, Eric didn't hesitate. His hatred for vampires flared as he walked over to a classic sports car parked nearby. Starting the engine, he quickly set off in the same direction—toward the Century Building.

Meanwhile, inside the Century Building, the vampires partied, unaware that death was fast approaching. They reveled in the blood and music, completely oblivious to the disaster headed their way.

Ten minutes later, Sergei arrived at the Century Building, located in the northernmost part of the Bronx. The clock struck ten, and the area buzzed with life as people enjoyed the night around the block. Sergei parked his motorcycle on the side of the road, resting one foot on the ground. He looked up at the towering seventy or eighty-story building. With his sharp hearing, he could catch the faint sounds of raucous celebration from the top floor.

Weng!

Without warning, Sergei activated his Observation Haki. Instantly, the entire building's auras flooded his mind. He could sense every single presence, each one distinctly human. But then, there were the cold, predatory breaths—those of the vampires.

With determination, Sergei dismounted his motorcycle, grabbed his cross sword, and began walking toward the entrance of the building, each step deliberate and measured.

The building was luxurious, and naturally, it was guarded. Several armed security guards noticed Sergei approaching with a cross sword in hand. Instantly, their faces turned serious. Drawing their guns, one of them shouted, "Hey! This isn't a place for you! Get out now!"

As one of the guards reached for his radio to call for backup, a flash of fire appeared in front of his eyes. In the blink of an eye, Sergei, who had been dozens of meters away, vanished. When he reappeared, he was behind them.

The guards remained in their original positions, seemingly frozen in time. A faint, fiery red line traced across their necks before they even realized what had happened. Without a sound, their bodies ignited and crumbled to ashes, sparks scattering into the air.

These security guards weren't human—they were blood servants.

Their guns clattered to the ground, but the surrounding crowds remained oblivious. Unaware of the danger unfolding, no one noticed the deadly encounter.

Sergei strode confidently into the building, his cross sword gleaming in his grip.

Ten seconds later, the building erupted with the sounds of gunfire and roaring chaos. The nearby blocks were soon filled with alarms as the commotion spread through the area.

"Enemy invasion! Kill him immediately! Alert the master!"