But soon, the vampires' hostility subsided.
"He's just human. So what if his weapon is decent?" one vampire said casually.
Their vampiric bodies were far superior to any human's. As long as they avoided that bizarre watermelon knife, taking him down would be easy.
Many vampires found this logic reasonable and surged forward, claws out and teeth bared, lunging at Daniel!
Eyes of the God of Death!
Suddenly, the vampires slowed dramatically.
Daniel wasted no time. With a flick of his wrist, the watermelon knife cut through the air with lethal speed!
Shua! Shua!
Two streaks of cold light flashed, and two vampires' heads were severed, their bodies disintegrating instantly into scattered ash!
Daniel didn't stop there.
Gripping the watermelon knife tightly, he launched into a relentless flurry of slashes and hacks against the remaining vampires.
Fueled by incredible strength, the blade sliced through their bodies effortlessly. They barely had time to scream before exploding into clouds of ash under the blinding flashes of his weapon.
The chaos quickly drew the attention of every vampire in the club.
They stared in shock at the demise of their comrades, but instinct soon overcame reason, and they charged Daniel, one after another.
But Daniel didn't flinch; he surged into the heart of the vampire swarm.
Supernatural or not, to Daniel these vampires were nothing more than street thugs. Their attacks were wild and uncoordinated—just biting and clawing. With the Nichirin Blade, a natural bane to vampires, killing them was like slicing through melons and chopping vegetables!
Up and down! Strike after strike!
Without missing a beat!
The vampire numbers dwindled rapidly, leaving a thick layer of ash beneath Daniel's feet.
"No, don't come closer!"
The remaining vampires backed into a corner, their reason finally returning. They trembled at the sight of Daniel holding the watermelon knife.
Who said this guy was human?
He was far more ruthless than any of them!
Shua! Shua! Shua!
Cold flashes of light cut through the air, and the last vampires were reduced to dust.
Daniel wiped the ash off his watermelon knife and checked his mission stats. So far, he had slain thirty-four vampires.
Ignoring the mess, he left the underground club, dispatching the two vampire guards stationed by the iron door without a second thought.
"System, mark some locations for me," Daniel said.
Immediately, over a dozen crimson markers appeared across New York on his map—vampire gathering points he had extracted from the red-haired woman with the massive waves of hair.
Daniel stretched, ready for action.
"Time to grind! Let's go!"
Over the following days, Daniel scoured New York's streets and alleys, clearing vampire strongholds one after another.
Most strongholds were similar—bars or nightclubs—matching the creatures' habits.
The only unique location was a church, where even the priest and cleaning staff were vampires, proving that the safest place can be the deadliest.
But their disguises meant nothing. Daniel sent them all to meet God with his watermelon knife. He wondered what God thought of these vampire pseudo-believers.
From the south side to the north, Daniel cut his way across the city for three straight days and nights!
Even Chan Ho Nam hadn't been this busy!
In just three days, he raided over a dozen strongholds, and the vampire death toll exceeded four hundred.
His speed caused little disturbance, so humans remained largely unaware—except for noticing strange ash drifting in the air and a slight decline in air quality.
The next evening, Daniel moved again, but this time he noticed increased security at the target stronghold.
Clearly, the vampire community had caught on and fortified their defenses.
As Daniel observed the nightclub entrance from the shadows, a low voice spoke from behind:
"Are you the Vampire Killer?"
"Who's there? Show yourself!"
Daniel's eyes widened as he scanned the surroundings.
"I'm on your left," the voice replied.
Daniel finally noticed a burly black man standing in the shadows. He wore a black leather trench coat, sunglasses, and tactical gear, almost blending completely with the darkness.
Daniel exclaimed, "Such advanced stealth! I didn't even see you!"
The black man tilted his head: "?"
He hadn't done anything particularly stealthy.
"Right, what did you call me just now?" Daniel asked.
"Vampire Killer," the man said evenly. "Someone has been clearing out vampire strongholds one by one, slaughtering hundreds. That person has been dubbed the Vampire Killer. I assume that's you, correct?"
"A cliché if I ever heard one," Daniel scoffed. "And you are?"
"You can call me Blade," the man replied coolly. "Like you, my target is bloodsucking trash."
"Ah, so you're here to poach my monsters," Daniel realized, gripping his watermelon knife, already calculating how to split him into sections.
Blade frowned, unable to follow Daniel's murderous thought process, but he could sense Daniel's intense desire to kill vampires.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Blade continued: "Don't worry, I won't interfere with your actions. I'm here for a vampire named Deacon Frost. According to my intel, one of his key lieutenants is hiding in this stronghold."
He glanced at the heavily guarded entrance.
"But your recent actions have terrified the community. If we make a scene now, the vampires inside will escape, and finding Frost's lieutenant in the sewers will become much harder."
Daniel nodded. He understood—the enemies in this game didn't stay put like in typical games; they reacted and adapted.
"So what's your plan?"
"We cooperate. You take all the vampire trash; I only need Frost's lieutenant."
"Heh, why would I—"
"I can provide intel on more vampire strongholds."
"Pleasure working with you!"