Fangs pierced the bodyguard's neck, like two straws plunged into a cup of milk tea.
Apart from an initial scream, all that came from the guard's mouth were choked sobs as his blood was frantically drawn towards his neck and then siphoned into A Ming's mouth.
In such a situation, even if you wanted to scream, you couldn't. What followed was a suffocating, profound sense of impending death.
It seemed as if the guard could hear his blood flowing like a small stream. His strength, his energy, even his very soul, seemed to be continuously separating from his body.
Of course, he resisted; he wouldn't resign himself to death. Even though his eyes couldn't see, even though he didn't know what kind of demon he had encountered, his sword continued to express his unwillingness to surrender, his refusal to face death!
SQUISH!
SQUISH!
SQUISH!
The sword blade churned and pierced continuously within A Ming's body.
A Ming's body trembled with each movement, but the satisfied smile on his face only grew more pronounced.
To A Ming, this feeling, this warmth, this taste... He had missed it for so, so long!
At this moment, it was as if the seal of half a year had been completely torn away. He had found himself again, once more revealing the self he was always meant to be!
Blood.
Sacrifice.
This is mine.
My feast!
After the inner room door opened and the guard lunged at A Ming with his sword, Zheng Fan almost instinctively grabbed a nearby chair as a weapon.
Liang Cheng had been kicked flying, his condition unknown. At this moment, Zheng Fan truly hadn't thought of escaping. This world was completely unfamiliar to him.
Other than this inn, other than these seven—or rather, six—people around him, where else could he go?
But A Ming's transformation and the subsequent turn of events left Zheng Fan somewhat at a loss.
Although he didn't understand—hadn't they all supposedly become ordinary people? Even so, at least the situation was developing in their favor.
Feng Siniang also appeared at the doorway. Watching the scene before her, unlike Zheng Fan, her eyes held no surprise, only sheer excitement!
He's recovered! No, even if it's just a little, he's truly started to recover!
Although she didn't know what caused it, since he could recover, then... what about me?
For them, who had once been demonic figures, half a year of ordinary life was nothing short of torture!
That was why, even after everyone had become ordinary, when Zheng Fan chose to take the second path, they had all shown excitement!
They were unwilling to resign themselves to obscurity, unwilling to be ordinary, unwilling to live through the birth, aging, sickness, and death of normal people. Even if they had lost their strength, even if they had lost their former abilities, their hearts still refused to settle for mediocrity!
What's more, now, she saw… power!
UGH...
The guard's skin began to wrinkle, and his body, like a punctured balloon, rapidly deflated.
Finally, THUMP!
The bodyguard's body slumped to the ground, leaving A Ming still pinned to the door panel by the long sword, his feet dangling off the ground.
There were still traces of blood at the corners of A Ming's mouth.
He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, as if savoring the last drops, unwilling to waste any of the precious essence.
Then, he lowered his head, looking at his thoroughly mangled abdomen and the long sword that still kept him pinned.
A Ming reached out, but he couldn't quite reach the hilt of the sword.
Zheng Fan immediately understood. He dropped the chair he was holding, ran to A Ming, and subconsciously reached for the sword hilt, but then he hesitated.
It seems that when a person is impaled by a sharp object, it shouldn't be casually pulled out, otherwise it could cause even greater trauma.
But did A Ming fall into that category?
"My lord, how much longer are you going to stand there admiring it?"
"Um..."
Zheng Fan grabbed the hilt of the sword with both hands and asked tentatively again,
"Pull it out?"
"Pull."
Zheng Fan began to pull. On his first attempt, it didn't budge!
Taking a couple of deep breaths, Zheng Fan pulled again, this time with all his might.
POP!
The long sword was pulled out by Zheng Fan. The momentum sent him stumbling back several steps before he barely managed to regain his footing.
However, facing the current situation, he really didn't know what to do.
Fortunately, he didn't have to do what came next. Feng Siniang emerged from the inner room, unceremoniously kicked A Ming in the head, and asked,
"Want me to find you a coffin?"
"Yes."
Then, Siniang pointed to the bloody mess on the ground,
She asked,
"These guts, should they be stuffed back in? And then use a needle and thread to sew your stomach up?"
"No need. I've drunk my fill of blood. As long as my head isn't broken, I'll be fine."
TSK, TSK, TSK. Feng Siniang remarked with an envious expression, sighing, "You vampires certainly have it convenient."
"Heh heh heh..." A Ming was actually still laughing. It was just a pity that, because his body below the neck was in such a truly grievous state, while he could speak, his voice was unavoidably weak and faint.
"If you'd like it to be convenient too, I can give you a bite."
Make you my fledgling, make you a vampire too.
"Sure. We can talk about it when I'm genuinely getting old. It'll save me having to spend money on cosmetics."