Misleading

The sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell, while down on the beach, many small creatures were busily moving about—crabs and sea turtles, for instance. They needed to return to the sea before the tide went out.

These animals struggled for their lives, living the same repetitive days over and over.

Dracula was probably the same.

"I think I understand how you feel." Su Ming gently exhaled a puff of smoke. "Caught in the gap between myth and reality, dwelling in an eternal body, watching everything in the world as an observer yet powerless to change it. It's like the Infinite Hell spoken of in the East."

Dracula held out a hand, his pale fingers fiddling with the tobacco. He stuffed the cigarette into his mouth. "An eternal torment. Sometimes I think that if I could really drink tomato juice, that would be nice. Do you have something to light this with? I want to try it."

Su Ming took out a lighter and lit it for him. Dracula took two hard drags. Though he had no lungs, Vampires were indeed good at sucking things.

But Dracula soon shook his head. "No flavor, no sensation. Something that excites your brain is nothing more than a smoking toy to me."

Even so, he had no intention of throwing the cigarette away. He simply held it between his lips, braced himself against the ground with both hands, and sat watching the sea.

Su Ming sat cross-legged, the sound of the waves echoing in his ears. "Can't you do what Varnae did? Give your power to someone, then die?"

Dracula smiled and shook his head. "That's the heart of the problem. Varnae never taught me the secret technique for transferring power. He dumped everything on me, then left without a word."

"But you