Weapons

Donnie stepped in front of John and seized him by the throat.

"Your vampires' sharpest weapons are your teeth, yet you insist on playing with guns and cannons."

Donnie acted decisively. Before the vampires could kill anyone, he struck first, stopping them and subduing John. He was fast—extremely fast—so fast that everyone was stunned!

John's eyes widened in disbelief. How could this Mutant, who specialized in control, possess such exceptional physical abilities?! His mouth hung open, making choking sounds, but he could not say a word. The other vampires nervously raised their guns at Donnie, ready to attack at any moment.

Several Mini-Transformers assembled themselves and watched them menacingly. Outside, Optimus Prime was also itching to move, ready to bring out heavy weapons and bury these filthy creatures here for good.

"One last question. Why did Deacon want me to fight the vampires to the death?" Donnie stared at the pure-blood, gradually tightening his grip. He had no fondness whatsoever for these creatures that fed on ordinary people. If possible, he would kill as many as he could and eliminate a great enemy of humanity.

John's eyes turned even redder. He simply did not know. Someone like Deacon would never reveal his plans to him.

With a crack, Donnie snapped the pure-blood's neck, then mercilessly attacked the other vampires as well! He charged forward, formed a blade in his hand, and instantly severed one vampire's head. For vampires of this level, losing their heads meant they would die after a while anyway.

The vampires cried out as they fought back. Their master was dead; by the rules of the vampire world, they had no chance of surviving either. Even if they returned, they would be executed!

Countless bullets struck Donnie in a dense barrage, but metallic constructs blocked them all. The gang members did not back down either. Taking the opportunity to resist, they knocked several vampires to the ground.

"Don't let them get close enough to bite you!" Donnie roared. One vampire was shot in a vital area, yet did not die immediately. Instead, he tore off his mask and bit a nearby gang member.

Everyone blanched in shock. They had clearly shot him so many times, so why was he still alive? They had never seen an enemy like this before. Were they all Mutants?

With a thunderous boom, Optimus Prime charged inside and turned the last vampire into pulp with his Gatling gun. There was no way he could survive now.

Amid the chaotic battle, Donnie casually killed the ordinary man who had been bitten. As long as a vital area was struck before the transformation into a vampire was complete, he would still die.

"Who exactly are these people?"

The group was filled with uncertainty. This was too strange. They were clearly wounded and bleeding, so why did they still possess such formidable combat ability, along with movements beyond those of ordinary people...

"They're Vampires. Consider yourselves lucky you weren't bitten." Donnie dragged John's body into a patch of direct sunlight. John's body immediately burst into flames and turned to ash.

Everyone else was dumbfounded. That scene, which defied common sense, shattered everything they knew. For the first time, the doors to the New World opened before them.

Donnie paid them little attention. He merely urged Old Bartender to finish modifying his motorcycle immediately. He needed more reliable fighting strength, not someone like Old Bartender, who hid and played dead whenever a fight broke out.

As he was leaving, the burly man, supported by others, shouted at Donnie that he would repay him someday.

Donnie laughed loudly and pretended not to hear him, offering no response. Gangsters were hardly good people, but they were still human. Killing a pack of beasts to save people innocently dragged into this—Donnie did not mind doing that.

He had never been a good person, nor would he ever allow himself to become one. He merely followed his heart, until the day he fell forever in the endless blood-soaked battles of the future.

He, Donnie the Mechanic, could walk beneath the light without restraint, and he could just as freely run rampant in the darkness.

The Vampire Kingdom. It had stood in the world for thousands of years, as long as human history itself. Where there were humans, there would be vampires.

For thousands of years, vampires had fought prolonged wars against humanity's major powers. Though they were usually massacred, they always managed to rise again, only to wage war once more after rebuilding their strength. This recurring cycle had lasted far too long—long enough to disgust some within the Vampire Kingdom.

Deacon looked like a handsome young man, with pale skin, defined features, and a slender build. Only his narrow eyes flashed with an eerie light. He threw his headset onto the table, his expression blank and unreadable.

John had been wearing Deacon's surveillance equipment. He had heard everything. Donnie was more cunning than he had expected and had displayed a level of intelligence quite unlike that of others his age.

But it was merely petty cleverness. It could not change the bigger picture. War between the two sides was inevitable.

"Deacon Frost." A servant entered. "The Council has summoned you. The Councillors have questions for you."

Deacon sneered contemptuously, rose to his feet, and swaggered off. His hair was disheveled, his shirt hung open, and his whole appearance was sloppy, as though he had no regard for the Vampire Council at all.

The servant did not mind. Deacon had always been like this, and he was entitled to be.

The Vampire Council was too ancient—so ancient that it disgusted and repulsed rising factions like Deacon's.

The Vampire King had ignored affairs for years, leaving most authority in the Council's hands. But in the eyes of the rising factions, the Council was as rotten as decaying flesh. There were only thirteen seats in the Council, each controlled by one of the traditional Thirteen Clans. This arrangement had lasted for thousands of years, long enough to make many families furious and sickened.

Deacon Frost had grown up in this corrupt era. Countless families, large and small, stood behind him, the Thompson Family among them. They followed Deacon because they wanted to change their weak position. They wanted a place in the Council and to drive out the Thirteen Clans.

The chairman had been overwhelmed lately. The Vampire Hunters had intensified their purge of vampires. Many strongholds had fallen, large numbers of vampires had been killed, and many blood banks had been destroyed. It was already affecting the blood supply of the entire Vampire Kingdom.

They could not rely solely on buying blood from hospitals and the government. They did not have that much money, and blood was expensive.

The chairman was furious. He shouted at Deacon when he entered, demanding to know why he had provoked the Mechanic.

"That damned Mutant has the backing of Charles and Erik, and S.H.I.E.L.D. is watching him too! Are you insane, provoking him at a time like this? We've already lost too many people. Do you want to start a war with the Mutant forces as well?!" The chairman slammed the table. He could not tolerate Deacon acting on his own without going through the Council. It would bring them another crisis.

Deacon scoffed. They had argued like this many times before. He despised these old fossils for their excessive caution.

"Humans are merely food. We are creatures that feed on humans!" Deacon said.

The chairman sneered, and the other Councillors sneered as well. They laughed at Deacon for knowing nothing, for still being immersed in the era when vampires had been at their peak centuries ago.

"Do you know how many vampires remain in the world today?" the chairman said coldly. "One million! There are billions of humans around the globe, yet with our vampires' rate of reproduction, we have only barely reached one million in total! You know nothing at all! This world is far crazier and more dangerous than you imagine!"

Deacon froze for a moment. He was genuinely shocked. Ever since he had been transformed into a vampire, he had been immersed in the dream of vampires being supreme above all else.

"There are far too many races hidden in this world. They remain secluded year-round, but any one of them could emerge and wipe us out. And that is without even counting humans and Mutants joining the war!" The chairman spoke earnestly. The man before him was so young that he knew nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me? You should have told me long ago..." Deacon's face darkened. He had never been patient, and someone as brutal as him had slaughtered countless members of his own kind.

"Because you have never been a pure-blood. We are different. We were born pure-bloods, born with the mission of fighting for vampires." One councillor suddenly spoke. His words represented the Council's view: a Half-blood transformed after birth had no right to enter the upper ranks.

Deacon was driven mad with fury. At that moment, he even wanted to kill that councillor. Over the years, the Council had constantly suppressed and excluded him because he had been transformed later in life. He had never been qualified to participate.

In the end, Deacon sneered and said, "You will all pay the price," before turning and leaving. He had truly developed murderous intentions toward the Council. The God-Making Plan had already been mostly deciphered, and he had been waiting for the right opportunity.

His footsteps faded away, and the Council fell silent once more. Everyone had heard Deacon's threat, but none of them reacted.

One councillor looked at the chairman and asked, "Shouldn't we stop him? It seems he has deciphered something crucial. We don't know what it is, but we could take it from him."

"I know what it is. I have always known." The chairman spoke casually. "My family's ancient records contain scattered references to what is written on that Human Skin Parchment. It is nothing more than the method for creating the battle slaves of our ancient ancestors. There is no need to worry. We can take it after he succeeds."

He had concealed much from the other Councillors as well. After all, there were conflicts and struggles even among the Thirteen Clans. Though he did not know the exact nature of those slaves, based on what he knew, they were simply weapons of war. He was certain that information was not recorded on the Human Skin Parchment. Even Deacon would not know the true nature of those weapons; the parchment only contained the method of creation.

According to the records, vampires had an extremely terrifying enemy in the ancient era thousands of years ago.

At that time, the vampire race had been massacred one-sidedly and nearly pushed to the brink of extinction. Even Progenitor Dracula had suffered crushing defeats time and again. Thus, Dracula created these biological weapons to fight that terrifying enemy and the army that followed him.

According to the records, that terrifying enemy appeared to have been a Mutant.

His name was Apocalypse.