Tragedy Strikes Without Warning: The Count Versus the Heavenly Demon

In the bright dining room, Qin Fen watched the chef uncover a golden roast duck. Its rich aroma filled the air. As a top chef, Qin Fen knew the difference between charcoal-roasted and electric-roasted duck, though it was hard to tell while they were hot. An electric oven could imitate the conditions of a charcoal oven.

The real difference came after the duck cooled. An electric-roasted duck lost its fat, while a charcoal-roasted one held on to the best part of the bird.

Scrape. The chef ran his knife against the fork and began introducing the dish to Qin Fen. The whole scene was warm and pleasant.

Qin Fen was having a wonderful time, waiting to eat. But in another world, Dracula had no idea that something terrifying had appeared above his head.

The count cursed under his breath and prepared to eat. He was hungry, and the young woman's blood had whetted his appetite.

The dark clouds shifted overhead and scattered. A streak of black light vanished.

Was that the bastard who'd gotten angry? The Heavenly Demon felt like a dragon returning to the sea, a tiger roaming the mountains. Glorious! Then he saw a pale-skinned foreigner with flaxen hair before him and froze. What the hell is this?

Blue eyes, flaxen hair, a hooked nose—if that wasn't a ghost, what was? Wait. What wretched place have I come to? Did a ghost from the Underworld cause that burst of anger? Why does he look more like something from the Asura Path of the Six Paths of Reincarnation?

Could it be Minghe? The Heavenly Demon was puzzled. He thought little of Minghe, the ancestor of the Blood Sea. He was the Heavenly Demon, a Heart Demon; apart from Saints, he dared to provoke anyone. Heavenly Dao was another exception,