I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

Zach's blood rushed to his head.

He raised his pistol, aimed it at the figure's back, and pulled the trigger.

boom!

Gunshots rang out in the enclosed factory, making everyone's eardrums buzz.

The muzzle flashed, illuminating Zach's contorted face.

The bullet hit its target.

A spray of dark liquid gushed from the figure's abdomen.

The surrounding thugs erupted in excited shouts.

They all desperately wanted to own a gun, and seeing its power now sent their adrenaline soaring to its peak.

"Charge them!"

Zack charged forward, gun in hand.

Then he stopped.

The figure who had been shot did not fall.

It slowly turned its head.

The bright beam of the flashlight shone on that face, and all the shouts seemed to be cut off by an invisible hand, coming to an abrupt halt.

It was a deathly pale, bloodless face.

His eyes were bloodshot, with two dark flames burning in his irises.

His lips parted, revealing two rows of teeth, among which the two upper canines were unusually long for a human, sharp, curved, and glistening with moisture.

A stranger.

A monster.

The bullet wound in its abdomen is healing at a visible speed.

The torn skin seemed alive, wriggling, contracting, and closing towards the center, while fresh blood flowed back into the body.

A few seconds later, the wound disappeared, leaving only a bullet hole in the shirt.

"What is this! Who are you!"

Zack's voice changed tone, becoming sharp like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on.

The only response he received was a gust of wind.

That thing moved.

It moves so fast that a flashlight beam can't keep up.

In the blink of an eye, it appeared in front of the two thugs from ten meters away.

He raised both hands and then swung them down.

There were no weapons, only ten fingers.

But those ten fingers were sharper than any blade.

Both heads were detached from the neck at the same time.

The cut was so clean it looked like it had been made with a scalpel, and fresh blood gushed out from the neck cavity, drawing two dark red arcs in the beam of the flashlight.

The two headless bodies stood still for almost a second before collapsing to the ground like puppets whose strings had been pulled out.

Zach let out a scream that went completely awry.

The sound didn't sound like something a grown man could make; it was high-pitched, broken, and filled with primal fear.

He raised his gun and frantically pulled the trigger.

Bang bang bang bang bang.

All five bullets hit their mark.

The bullet pierced the thing's body—chest, abdomen, shoulder—exploding into puffs of brick dust on the wall behind it.

That thing didn't even pause for a moment.

The bullet pierced its body, leaving five bullet holes oozing blood and foam.

Then the bullet holes began to heal, just like the gunshot wound in the abdomen, the flesh writhed, contracted, and closed.

Five seconds later, all five bullet holes disappeared.

It walked towards the crowd.

A leisurely, unhurried pace, like taking a stroll.

The iron pipe hit its shoulder, but it didn't turn around.

The cleaver struck its arm, slicing through the flesh to reveal the pale bone beneath, and then the wound closed up completely within two seconds.

He was like an indestructible giant, approaching a tiny ant on the ground.

The ants' screams, struggles, fear, and everything else...

Nothing could make this giant hesitate or hinder him.

The massacre began.

Ivan crouched behind a broken wall in the distance, his pupils dilated to their limit, his shirt soaked with sweat.

He came in completely unaware of the monster's presence.

"Self-healing, bloodsucking... He must be the vampire that Pris sent to stalk me!"

Night Demon Potion's night vision allowed him to see every detail clearly.

Those gang thugs who usually acted arrogantly and domineeringly were like chickens being herded into a slaughterhouse in front of that thing.

They screamed, they ran, they swung their iron pipes and machetes and hacked desperately, but all their attacks were like tickling.

That thing was so fast that you couldn't even see its afterimage.

Its fingers pierce through human skulls as easily as puncturing wet cardboard.

Its fangs could bite through a human's neck as easily as it could bite through a sausage.

All fatal wounds healed rapidly within seconds.

Shooting, slashing, and beatings were all ineffective.

The desperate wails echoed through the empty factory, one after another, growing fewer and weaker.

It was like a group of candles being extinguished one by one in the wind.

Ivan crouched behind the broken wall, his back pressed against the cold brick surface, his palms sweaty.

The gap between the two sides was so large that it was despairing.

The difference wasn't ten or twenty times; it was a crushing defeat on a completely different level.

It's like an ordinary person having to go head-to-head with a fully loaded semi-trailer traveling at 100 kilometers per hour.

You can see it, you can hear it, but there's nothing you can do about it.

At this moment, the boundary between mortals and the extraordinary is so clear and cruel.

Ivan swallowed hard.

As his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, he noticed his hands were trembling.

But it wasn't all fear.

Beneath the fear, something more primal and fiery was burning.

He stared at the figure reaping lives in the darkness, at the fatal wounds that healed completely in seconds, at the absolute power that transcended all physical attacks.

He wanted to be like that too...

After a brief moment of shock.

Ivan turned and ran, using all his strength, like a rabbit being chased by a hound.

This is a basic human instinct.

He had no idea how many eyes were watching him from the shadows.

But he knew very well that in this situation, the more he acted like a terrified ordinary person, the safer he would be.

In just one minute, he had completely left the factory area, running more than 400 meters.

The gravel path underfoot turned into a dirt trail, with gentle hills covered with trees and weeds on both sides, the withered grass tips rustling in the night wind.

In the distance, the outline of Bolton City was clearly visible under the night sky, its myriad lights resembling scattered gold dust on black velvet.

The silhouettes of tall concrete buildings and factory chimneys are staggered and interspersed.

The stinging pain forced him to stop.

When we ambushed the thugs in the factory earlier, he was hit hard on the back with two sticks.

At the time, my adrenaline was so high that I didn't feel anything, but now that I've stopped, the pain has surfaced like rocks exposed after the tide has gone out.

Two ridges swelled up on my back, and the bruised skin was soaked in sweat. Even when I was still, it was throbbing with pain.

Not to mention that the swinging of the arms while running pulls on the muscles and skin of the back, which multiplies the tearing pain several times over.

He was bent over, his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

"If he was sent by Pris to spy on me, his purpose shouldn't be to kill me. This distance is safe."

After catching my breath, a wave of frustration washed over me.

"Damn it, how are we going to clean this up? More than twenty thugs are dead."

"Moreover, there was a clear conflict between me and Zach before, there were witnesses, and there was a motive."

"Logically speaking, the vampire who was in charge of monitoring me shouldn't want to make a big deal out of this."

"At most, he'll make a simple show of force to scare those people away when I'm in danger."

"That way I can legitimately associate myself with Priss, and I'll be able to live more peacefully on Gooding Street in the future."