"What do you think?"
"What do you think I think?" Several angels exchanged glances. Had demons mutated recently? Immune to holy light? This wasn't drug resistance!
They recalled a rather philosophical saying: the poor relied on mutation, the rich relied on technology. Backed by Heaven, they were rich enough to do whatever they wanted. How could those fellows from Hell compare to this group of wealthy, handsome elites? Had they really pushed them too hard, forcing them to mutate from eating genetically modified food?
They could not figure it out. The two seraphim were staring at each other wide-eyed. Gabriel lowered his head to look at his hand. He dared swear that he had not held back at all. Forget a Third-Generation Vampire—even a second-generation vampire would have been killed in an instant. But what the hell was happening now? Not a single hair on his opponent had fallen.
It was not just him who felt awkward. Even Michael was in agony.
Qin Fen had used Merit to cleanse Dracula's Karmic Force, redeeming him and turning him into a living human. He no longer bore any sins, so naturally, he was not afraid of holy light.
But the angels did not know that. At that moment, they all stared at the count as if he were a giant panda. If holy light could not handle him, then damn—facing demons in the future would be far more stressful.
That was also why Samael had lured Dracula in. He hoped to obtain this secret.
"I'm fine. I'm actually fine!" Dracula looked over his body. Nothing was wrong with him, and he was growing excited.
The more excited he became, the worse the two archangels felt. Wasn't he just rubbing it in?
Two archangels could not do anything to a mere Blood Clan