A few Blood Clan mbers, supporting themselves on the wall as they staggered out, hadn't taken many steps before they heard the explosion-proof door behind them being kicked open. It smashed forcefully against the wall, shattering a large patch of wall tiles.
An old lady in a suit and sunglasses walked out from the room. Her face was expressionless. She held a long spear with a tal shaft and a bone blade, carried a music-playing speaker on her back, and from behind her, eight pale, firearm-wielding arms extended.
Their bizarre appearance and the surreal scene made the Blood Slaves stare blankly for a mont before reacting; so drew pistols from their waists to shoot, while others transford into muscular, half-human, half-bat monsters and lunged at Li Ang.
Li Ang swept his spear. The steel shaft struck the neck of the foremost Blood Slave, snapping it instantly. Then he activated the Special Effect of the Triangular Bone Tipped Spear; the spear blade shot out, piercing a bodyguard further back who was drawing his gun. It then quickly retracted, dragging the bodyguard over like a flail and knocking down several Blood Slaves in the corridor.
At the sa ti, the eight arms behind him opened fire in unison. Assault rifles laid down suppressing fire, light machine guns sprayed wildly, sniper rifles delivered precise headshots, and shotguns fired solid lead slugs, severing the spines of so charging Blood Slaves.
When the gunfire subsided, the entire corridor was cleared. The Blood Slave bodyguards were utterly annihilated. The ceiling, walls, and floor were riddled with faintly smoking bullet marks. A sea of crimson t the eye.
Li Ang stamped the ground, sprinting forward. Four of the eight arms behind him consolidated the eight guns, while the other four reached down, picking up the Blood Slave corpses littering the ground and storing them in his inventory.
The Zimmich Family had a longer history and deeper heritage than the Miller Family; even the quality of their Blood Slaves was slightly higher. These Advanced Blood Slave corpses were precious experintal materials; leaving them here would be an utter waste. The Frugal Miss Chai certainly knew how to make the most of things.
Li Ang charged along the stairwell, following the scent of blood in the air from their bleeding wounds. He reached the stairs, kicked off the wall, and leaped forward. One hand gripped the spear, the other the railing. His body twisted sharply, and as he flipped down the stairs, he kicked off the handrail and launched himself forward like a cheetah, chasing the bloody scent.
This corridor led to the Blood Race eting Hall. The overall decor was in dark gold tones, exuding lavish elegance. On the right side of the corridor, marble walls were lined with display cabinets filled with cultural relics. The walls were also adorned with nurous priceless oil paintings, any one of which could grant an ordinary family complete financial freedom. On the left side of the corridor were steel support beams and floor-to-ceiling windows, through which the splendid night view of Frankfurt City's myriad lights could be seen.
Kaiser Zimmich fled down this corridor, his brilliant golden hair, damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead. His usually imperious and stern face was now twisted with panic, all composure lost.
"Soone, help, save !!" he shouted hoarsely, his wide eyes bloodshot.
His cries were almost unnecessary; guards responsible for securing the Blood Race eting Hall (where the Zimmich Family held important etings and kept many family treasures) were already rushing out from around the corner ahead. These guards weren't Blood Slaves converted from humans; they included young Nobles from the family's collateral branches and tad Advanced Werewolves (the Blood Clan used money and material temptations to persuade so Werewolves to work for them). At the first sound of gunfire upstairs, so of these guards had run out to provide support, while others continued to guard the hall.
Seeing familiar faces, Kaiser Zimmich's expression relaxed; his heart, which had constricted in terror, began to ease.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT.
The dense sound of assault rifle gunfire echoed down the corridor, and a curtain of bullets rained down on Kaiser Zimmich. Several Werewolves instantly transford into their two-ter-tall, man-wolf forms, one hand ripping away their tattered clothes, the other shielding their eyes. Their recurved wolf-like legs slamd onto the red-carpeted marble floor, their massive bodies forming a wall in front of Kaiser Zimmich, directly intercepting the bullets.
These Werewolf guards were quite confident. Ordinary 7.62mm rifle bullets might tear their skin but would get lodged in their strong muscles. Only Silver Bullets could inflict True Damage on them. So, re mortal bullets couldn't possibly... SHIT!
The Werewolf guards couldn't believe their eyes. The ordinary bullets hitting them not only tore through their skin but also inexplicably chewed away large chunks of flesh and bone around the impact sites. The Special Effect of the Title Skill, Flesh Cutter, had caught them completely off guard. Nearly half of each Werewolf's torso vanished into thin air, blood gushing from them like fountains. All the Werewolf guards, faces etched with bewildernt, collapsed into pools of their own blood.
"Be careful, there's sothing strange about her bullets!" a Blood Clan guard yelled. As he shouted, the red cloak billowing behind him detached, flying out on its own to shield Kaiser, who had transford into a swarm of bats. The rifle bullets hit the red cloak, sinking into it as if into soft cotton. Carried by inertia for a mont, they then fell to the ground, their energy completely spent. And the cloak, as if it had lost all strength, faded in color and drifted to the floor.
During this brief respite, the swarm of bats that Kaiser Zimmich had transford into finally flitted past the defensive line of guards.
At last, he was safe.
He transford back into human form, enduring the severe headache caused by the depletion of his Blood Ability. He let out a long sigh of relief and allowed the Blood Clan guards to shield him from behind as he half-crawled, half-ran further down the corridor.
He was the future star of the Zimmich Family! How could he die here?
The corridor was sealed off by four Blood Clan guards standing in a line, each surrounded by a Blood Energy Aura far more potent than Kaiser's.
Expressionless, Li Ang continued his sprint. His second lung pumped like a bellows, drawing in oxygen. Blood roared like a deluge through his reinforced vessels. His muscle fibers, like tightly wound steel cables, contracted and relaxed relentlessly. Fueled by adrenaline, his body was pitched at an almost 30-degree angle to the ground as he ran.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
His feet pounded fiercely on the ground, creating fine, web-like cracks on the marble tiles. In the corridor, he sprinted towards the Blood Clan guards, their astonished expressions seeming to slow down in his field of view.
All four Blood Clan guards raised their arms simultaneously, palms open, releasing thick blood plasma from their veins. It coalesced into a spherical mass in mid-air, which then rapidly sharpened and solidified, forming a blood-mirror barrier that almost sealed off the entire corridor. All the bullets fired by the Eight-Ard Naga were stopped by the mirror, corroded and dissolved.
Just as Li Ang was about to crash into the mirror, he spun his long spear, using its shaft to brace against the wall. He veered left, heading straight for the floor-to-ceiling windows. Simultaneously, his extra arms, embodying Miss Chai's efficiency, retracted their firearms. One hand balled into a fist, smashing through the floor-to-ceiling window. Then, that sa arm hooked its elbow around a steel beam, swinging Li Ang—like an acrobat—in a wide arc outside the building.
Suspended in midair with nowhere to land, Li Ang felt the Gale brushing against his face. He took a mont to admire the brightly lit, bustling cityscape before his arcing trajectory sent him crashing through the glass once more, landing him behind the four Blood Clan guards.
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