Prey

After entering the hidden bar, Willis felt something unusual. The interior decoration style here was different from any he had seen before, exuding a grandeur and mystery belonging to the night, as if the designer were a non-human race. The aesthetic difference made Willis feel a sense of discomfort.

Especially for a bar, the soundproofing was almost too good; not a sound could be heard from outside the door. And when the Black doorman opened it, Willis estimated the door's thickness. It was pure metal, a full five centimeters thick, almost the level of a bank vault.

However, the lively atmosphere, the beauty beside him, and the alcohol already taking effect within his body made Willis subconsciously ignore the unusual surroundings.

Humans in group activities enter a state of irrationality. The noisy, wild music, the people swaying to the rhythm, and the girl holding his hand, making him dance involuntarily, all stimulated Willis's senses, igniting his latent herd mentality.

After dancing for a while, without the need for any illegal stimulants, Willis, drenched in sweat from the activity, felt like a completely new person from head to toe, as if he had shed his shackles and been reborn. He felt utterly transformed, making him question if his previous life had been a waste.

The blonde girl then let go of Willis's hand and, skipping happily, went to the bar's DJ. She took a microphone from him and began to loudly announce something to the crowd on the dance floor. The DJ then turned off the deafening music, switching to a more mellow tune.

Perhaps music truly has the power to manipulate hearts. As the tune changed, the previously wild crowd immediately quieted down, like a halftime break in a game. Only Willis, controlled by inertia, continued to move for a while before stopping under everyone's gaze, looking as comical as a clown.

The DJ's booth was in the most prominent spot in the bar. Standing there, the blonde girl could be seen by everyone. She pointed at Willis, who was so ashamed he wanted to disappear into the floor, and shouted, "He's the boyfriend I found tonight."

The spotlight appropriately fell on Willis, and as the fervor subsided, restoring his original personality, he showed a hint of shyness. The surrounding people also wisely moved aside, leaving ample space for Willis under the spotlight.

The blonde girl continued to shout, "His name is Willis, he's twenty-three years old, has no bad habits, doesn't do drugs, doesn't smoke, and only drinks a little."

As she finished speaking, accompanied by a short musical interlude from the DJ, the crowd on the dance floor cheered, leaving Willis somewhat bewildered.

When the excitement died down, the blonde girl said, "Willis usually neglects exercise, so his blood circulation isn't strong. But through the stimulation of alcohol, moderate activity, and the hormones secreted by various psychological activities, his body is in its optimal state. His blood tastes the most delicious."

As she finished speaking, everyone on the dance floor except Willis erupted in revelry. The intense emotion made Willis feel an inexplicable fear, as if they were barbarians performing a ritual before a feast, and he was the chosen, pitiful sacrifice.

In an instant, Willis thought of many things. For example, his ex-girlfriend who dumped him and his friend who incited him to change both had the same tattoo on their arms. He had seen that tattoo pattern on a wall outside this bar.

His arrival here today was not accidental but a meticulously planned, step-by-step lure. Even his ex-girlfriend's relationship and his friendship with that scoundrel were part of a conspiracy, a plan.

Screaming in terror, Willis stumbled and tried to escape, but he was blocked by a human wall formed by others. Then his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. Extreme fear had caused him to lose control of his body.

The previously frenzied handsome men and beautiful women had become hideous, their pupils changing color, their fangs protruding beyond their lips, their faces filled with greed and insatiable hunger.

An adult man's blood volume is about four thousand milliliters. With the number of vampires in this bar, they couldn't even feed themselves ten times over by draining Willis. He was the kind of premium resource that higher-class nobles enjoyed daily, something these lower-class vampires could only dream of.

Even with the help of the Ha-gui tribe among humans, Willis was carefully selected after much deliberation, and a trap was set to lure him to this vampire bar. There was no question of them drinking their fill; a couple of sips to taste would be enough for a vampire.

"Why! Why!" Willis cried, tears streaming down his face. He could imagine his fate: "Who can save me?"

The blonde girl leaped down from her high perch. Even professional stunt actors would need to roll to absorb the impact from such a height, but she merely bent her knees slightly and absorbed the force without her high heels breaking.

Walking through the crowd, pushing aside her kin, the blonde girl helped Willis, who was crying like a little girl, up from the ground. She considerately wiped away his tears with a tissue from who-knows-where, comforting him softly like a child, "Don't worry, don't be scared... Fear will make your blood taste bad, and that wouldn't be good."

"You are food that was painstakingly selected. Any method of processing that spoils the taste is blasphemy."

Hearing the blonde girl's words, Willis's body went limp, and he was about to collapse again. However, the seemingly delicate arm of the blonde girl wrapped around him, as if the man weighing over a hundred pounds was as light as a decorative handbag.

Then her eyes changed color, her fangs protruded, and holding Willis's neck, she brought it towards her mouth—as the one who lured Willis here, she had the right to the first taste.

But when her fangs were still one centimeter away from piercing Willis's skin, a massive dark shadow crashed into the dance floor. Several vampires, caught off guard, were smashed to the ground along with it, sustaining serious injuries that would require a long time to heal even with a vampire's regenerative abilities.

That dark shadow was none other than the tall Black man who had been guarding the door. As a non-pureblood Blood Clan transformed from a human, he was looked down upon. However, due to his imposing appearance, he managed to blend into the circles of these Lesser Bloodline vampires, serving as a deterrent at the door for any unruly individuals.

Yet, this very being was now dissolving rapidly like a slug sprinkled with salt, turning into a pool of pus and quickly evaporating.

The killer of this non-pureblood Blood Clan calmly closed the bar door behind him, seemingly intending to create a kill room for a decisive battle with them, the Blood Clan.

Even the legendary Daywalker would not dare to claim they could escape unscathed when facing so many pureblood vampires.