Lin Tao did not follow Michael in pursuit. Whether that vampire lived or died no longer mattered to him. The girls in the building had all been rescued. They huddled around Zhang Hong's already cold body, wailing in despair. That beast had toyed with her before sinking its fangs into her inner thigh. If Bai Ru had not arrived in time, Zhang Hong’s blood would have been entirely drained, leaving behind only a desiccated corpse. Even so, her lifeless body was pallid and gray, devoid of its former vibrancy.

  Just moments ago, Zhang Hong had been a radiant and alluring woman, eager to please him. Now, she was nothing more than a cold corpse. Lin Tao said nothing, but tears silently welled in his closed eyes, trickling down his cheeks. After a long silence, he walked over, gently patting the shoulders of the sobbing girls. He carefully closed Zhang Hong’s unwilling eyes, wrapped her body in a bedsheet, and hoisted her onto his shoulder before descending the stairs in silence.

  Everyone followed Lin Tao outside. He id Zhang Hong’s body down gently and, without seeking tools, unsheathed the dagger at his waist and began digging. Hu Laoda, wringing his hands, stepped forward to help but was met with Lin Tao’s fierce rebuke and had no choice but to stand back. Lin Tao knelt, hacking at the earth with his bde. When the knife grew dull, he dug with his bare hands, scooping out soil bit by bit. Anyone who tried to assist was met with his growling refusal. Under the cold night sky, the pale moonlight cast his solitary figure in a haunting glow.

  "Zhang Hong, I’m sorry. I failed to keep our promise. I couldn't protect you. But don’t worry—I will take care of your sisters. Anyone who dares harm them will have to step over my dead body first!"

  With great care, Lin Tao pced the shrouded Zhang Hong into the grave he had dug with his own hands. He then removed the dagger from his waist and pced it beside her head. Pulling back a corner of the bedsheet, he gazed at her lifeless, ashen face and whispered, "This dagger has been with me for many years. Let it stay here to keep you company. I hope it brings you a little soce. If there is a next life, I will repay my debt to you in full."

  Rising unsteadily, Lin Tao gathered a handful of earth and gently sprinkled it over Zhang Hong’s body.

  Tears streamed down the faces of the gathered women. Even Cao Mei, who had only a lukewarm retionship with Zhang Hong, wept bitterly. As Lin Tao scattered the first handful of soil, the women stepped forward one by one, silently taking their turns to add earth to the grave, sending Zhang Hong on her final journey.

  "Rest in peace, Sister Hong…"

  Having lost two dear companions in a single day, the women stood in the night wind, their cries of anguish tearing through the silence. None were spared from the sorrow, but Bai Ru grieved the hardest. She had watched Zhang Hong take her st breath, had seen the hopelessness and helplessness in her eyes—an unwilling farewell to a world she had barely begun to hope in.

  "Ahhh!"

  Suddenly, Bai Ru snatched Lin Tao’s gun from his waist and, like a woman possessed, rushed to Michael’s side. The vampire had dragged back a charred, unrecognizable corpse, its flesh bckened beyond recognition. Only a pair of retively intact leather shoes hinted at the victim’s identity.

  Bai Ru knew instantly—it was the vampire beast. With trembling hands, she aimed Lin Tao’s gun and fired repeatedly at the corpse. Each shot sent chunks of rotting flesh flying, the sickening sound of bullets tearing through the remains ringing in the night. She emptied the magazine, yet still she kept pulling the trigger, her face twisted with unyielding hatred.

  "Enough… Our revenge is complete." Lin Tao stepped beside Bai Ru, gently prying the gun from her grip.

  Sobbing uncontrolbly, Bai Ru turned and threw herself into Lin Tao’s arms. He held her close, patting her back in silent consotion. He knew that she needed to cry—to purge the agony that threatened to consume her. His own grief, however, had to be buried deep within, alongside all the other wounds that time would never heal.

  Zhang Hong was gone. Just when she had glimpsed a future, fate had cruelly snatched it away. Not even the phrase "cruel fate" could encompass the sheer bitterness of it all. The saying "beauty is fleeting" had never felt more true—perhaps the price of their enviable beauty was a shorter life, a cruel bancing of the scales.

  ...

  Meanwhile, several dozen kilometers away, in an abandoned five-star hotel, two exquisitely dressed women sat drinking together. Though the outside world had long fallen into decay, the hotel remained brightly lit and vishly decorated, as if untouched by the apocalypse. If not for the desote scenery beyond the windows, one might mistake this for an era of peace.

  The women were strikingly different in age. The elder, seated to the right, wore a low-cut bck ce gown that accentuated her voluptuous figure. Her fiery red hair was coiled into a loose bun, held in pce by an elegant silver hairpin. Reclining zily on an ornate European-style sofa, she swirled a crystal goblet filled with a dark crimson liquid, gazing at it with drunken fascination. Each sip sent a shiver through her body, as if savoring the finest delicacy known to existence.

  Yet suddenly, her rexed expression stiffened. She sat upright, wiping a smudge of crimson from the corner of her lips. Her face darkened. "Gard is dead. I’ve lost my connection to him."

  "Gard? That lowborn mongrel of impure blood? Hah! If he’s dead, so be it. His abilities were mediocre at best. His death is hardly worth our concern."

  The dismissive response came from the younger woman seated across from her. She appeared to be in her early twenties, wearing a strapless white princess dress. Though not as endowed as the noblewoman, her figure was supple and youthful. Cascading golden locks framed her delicate face, and she sat cross-legged on a single-seat sofa, barefoot. Like her companion, she held a goblet of crimson liquid but cked the patience for slow indulgence—she drained it in a few gulps before idly inspecting her manicured nails.

  Both women were breathtakingly beautiful—one exuding an air of elegance and grace, the other radiating youthful energy. Yet, despite their undeniable allure, they shared one unsettling trait—their skin was ghostly pale, devoid of any natural flush, eerily resembling porcein dolls.

  "It’s not that simple," the noblewoman murmured, furrowing her brows.

  "Oh, my dear Nicole, surely he perished while out hunting for us? A low-tier bloodling like him is barely superior to our thralls. Since the world fell, haven’t countless of his kind perished?" The golden-haired girl, Amy, showed no concern, twirling a lock of her hair absently.

  Nicole waved a hand dismissively and reached for a white dy’s cigarette. Lighting it with a flick, she exhaled a trail of smoke, her irritation apparent. "Amy, you must understand—our situation has changed. Humans have dwindled, and blood shortages will soon be our greatest crisis. Our reproduction cycle is far too slow. Losing even a low-tier bloodling is a significant blow. They are not mindless thralls; they are our kin."

  "But we still have plenty of blood sves, don’t we? With them around, why should we fear scarcity? Though I must admit, their blood tastes awful—like horse piss," Amy said ftly, finally setting her goblet aside to meet Nicole’s gaze.