Deacon's News

Donnie splashed a basin of cold water over the bespectacled man's head.

Icy droplets streamed down the bespectacled man's head and fell to the ground with a splashing sound. The bespectacled man, unconscious, was jolted awake by the sudden cold shock and abruptly opened his eyes.

With a pained groan, he instinctively reached for the back of his head, where Donnie had viciously struck him not long ago.

"What exactly do you want? I'm no threat to you anymore. There's no need for you to keep hounding me!" The bespectacled man was terrified. Donnie had cast a huge shadow over him. He desperately wanted to calm himself down and negotiate with Donnie one-on-one, to persuade him to let him go. But his legs would not stop trembling.

This guy was a complete savage! He struck without mercy!

Donnie sneered as he studied him. More than once, he had considered killing the bespectacled man. The man bore the deep marks of both Vampires and the Ha-Ghost Clan; no matter how eloquently he argued, no one would ever accept him again.

At the very least, Donnie would not believe him. The bespectacled man held a high position, and there was virtually no chance that someone like Donnie—without money or influence—could recruit him.

Nor would Donnie ever recruit him. This Ha-Ghost Clan member had willingly become the lackey of Vampires, trash that fed on humans. It was already generous of Donnie not to kill him on the spot.

Between humans and Vampires, there could only be war. It was a war between two species with entirely different life characteristics.

"Talk. Tell me everything you know." Donnie toyed with his phone, spinning it over and over in his hand.

The bespectacled man's eyes followed the phone as it moved. He understood that it was a lethal weapon, capable of unimaginable transformations in the hands of this Mechanic. It could kill him in an instant.

"I'll talk. I'll tell you everything. I only ask that you don't kill me." Sweat poured down the bespectacled man's face, mixing with the cold water until they were impossible to distinguish. He took off his glasses to wipe them, but Donnie knocked them from his hand.

The glasses flew into the wall with a crisp crack.

"The Vampires had me lead the team to negotiate with you. They swore that if it came to a fight, a force of more than a hundred well-trained, well-equipped men could easily eliminate you. Even if they failed, they could still retreat safely. That's why I came." Without his glasses, the bespectacled man could not see clearly. Donnie's face was a blur in his vision, making this seasoned negotiator, skilled at reading expressions, deeply uncomfortable.

"You thought the same. You thought over a hundred men could take me out, which was why you led them here." Donnie said.

The bespectacled man barely maintained his composure, widening his eyes as he tried to make out Donnie's expression. For a negotiator unable to read his opponent's face, it was practically the same as failure.

The bespectacled man told Donnie that the Council had promised him backup, including war machines such as armored vehicles and tanks to support him.

"The Council did consider eliminating you outright, but they weren't confident. They were even more concerned about provoking the Mutant Polaris behind you. So their primary order to me was to negotiate with you. They hoped to reconcile with you. But..."

"But someone sabotaged it from within." Donnie stood up. "You were abandoned. Used as a pawn to escalate the conflict, you were completely discarded."

The bespectacled man gritted his teeth. "I don't believe the Council abandoned me. Someone interfered! Deacon! It has to be him! He's been acting strangely lately, and his contradictions and clashes with the Council have become public. Other than him, I can't think of anyone else who would target me."

The bespectacled man explained that the Vampire Kingdom was currently being hunted by numerous Vampire Hunters and had suffered heavy losses. Unless they had no other choice, they would not engage Donnie in a full-scale battle again. At the very least, they would deal with Donnie after eliminating the Vampire Hunters.

The Vampire Hunters were extremely active now. Some of them were especially ruthless, with one in particular relentlessly pursuing Deacon. Wherever Deacon went, that person followed to hunt him down. Many important Vampire strongholds had been uprooted, and the losses were staggering, enough to completely alarm the Council. To deal with these Vampire Hunters, the Council was urgently preparing a comprehensive plan.

"Tell me every Vampire stronghold you know."

"I only know Deacon's base. I know where his territory is! It's in Ocean City, New Jersey! The Night People Club! Deacon is often active around that area!"

The bespectacled man began begging Donnie. If Donnie could spare him, he would pay a vast sum of money. After working for the Vampires all these years, he had accumulated an astonishing fortune, all of which he could give Donnie in exchange for his life.

Donnie brought over a laptop and forced him to transfer the money on the spot.

"Transfer the money to me now, and I'll let you leave immediately," Donnie said. "You're nothing more than an irrelevant person to me. There's no reason for me to lie to you."

Holding the laptop, the bespectacled man finally looked up at Donnie. He wanted to confirm whether Donnie was telling the truth. But unfortunately, without his glasses, he could not see clearly at all.

The bespectacled man opened a website and entered a string of numbers. A large sum was transferred into Donnie's account—more than eight million dollars. He had worked directly for the wealthy Vampire Council for many years, and having reached that position, he naturally had many ways to amass wealth.

But in the end, it all went to Donnie, merely serving as a dowry for someone else.

Old Bartender staggered in carrying a bottle, his face flushed red and his manner thoroughly drunken.

"That's enough. Stop pretending. It's boring as hell." Donnie was growing impatient. He pointed at the bespectacled man. "Kill him and dispose of the body. We don't have much time."

Old Bartender's mouth twitched, and he instantly sobered up. Behind his seemingly drunken face was an unmistakable look of shock. He looked at Donnie, desperately wanting to ask how Donnie had seen through him. He had indeed been pretending—pretending before S.H.I.E.L.D., before the Vampires and Ha-Ghost Clan members watching in secret, and especially before Donnie. It made him seem more harmless.

"If you were really that useless and brainless, the Vampires would have killed you long ago. You couldn't possibly have lived until now. At least, I don't believe a slick old hand would spend every day hugging a bottle and drinking himself into oblivion, leaving himself defenseless." Donnie spoke blandly, his calm eyes revealing neither anger nor pleasure.

Old Bartender silently tossed away the bottle in his hand. Alarm bells rang in his heart, and he became wary of Donnie. In some ways, this young man was growing increasingly cunning. Without a word, he carefully pulled a small knife from a gap in his belt and walked toward the bespectacled man.

The bespectacled man broke down, screaming for Donnie to spare him. He cursed Donnie as a despicable liar who did not keep his word, then turned around and desperately begged Donnie to let him go, saying he would do anything.

When Old Bartender approached him, a vicious glint flashed in his eyes. He sprang up in an instant. Anyone who could survive in the Vampire world had to have some skill. He aimed for Old Bartender's neck, intending to kill him in one blow.

But in the next moment, he fell into complete despair.

With lightning speed, Old Bartender grabbed his hand. As he stepped forward, the knife in his hand plunged deep into the other man's neck. His movements were swift and clean, without the slightest hesitation. In that instant, Old Bartender showed why he had survived for so many years. His skilled, seasoned movements were nothing like those of a frail old man.

Donnie was not particularly surprised. Without some real ability, Old Bartender would have died long ago while on the run.