Revenge suddenly woke up!
Revenge felt a mix of unprecedented anger and despair gripping his heart. He knew he was powerless to change the situation before him, but somewhere deep inside, a corner of his heart was screaming, yearning to resist, yearning to avenge his family. His heart was filled with chaotic emotions—anger, fear, sorrow—all bursting out at once.
When Revenge awoke, he found himself on the edge of a forest. The night forest was immersed in profound silence, with moonlight filtering through the sparse trees, casting mottled shadows on the damp ground. At his feet lay a withered corpse—the vampire who had attempted to attack him. The corpse's skin clung to its bones, like an empty shell left after being completely drained of life's water.
A great fear rose from the depths of his heart, and Revenge dared not linger. Almost instinctively, he ran towards home. The night wind was bone-chillingly cold, whistling past, and the leaves rustled in the wind, as if whispering unspeakable secrets. By the time he reached the nearest subway station, it was silent, with the electronic display flashing 10:01—the last train had already left.
Revenge hastily flagged down a passing taxi. He jumped into the car and urgently told the driver, "100 Red Brick Lane, please hurry!" The driver, a disheveled man with a vague face, rasped back after hearing the address, "Mediocre's second son, an honor."
This response tightened Revenge's heart, and he forced himself to calm down. Although he was accustomed to remaining composed in crises, his thoughts were unusually chaotic now.
Firstly, he didn't believe the dream was real; he loved his family and prayed for their safety. He recalled the scenes from the dream and his parents' reactions, trying to make sense of the dream's logic. Revenge knew that exposing the White Party's assassination of human councilors would infuriate the New Party, who depended on his family's livestock industry for their blood supply. Why would the White Party foolishly smear themselves, set up enemies, and challenge the New Party? Could there be another plot? Revenge consoled himself that none of this would happen.
Revenge's mind whirred like a rapidly turning gear, his thoughts spinning rapidly, seeking a logical exit. However, his reflections were abruptly interrupted by an unusual light—a faint purple vein showing beneath the skin of the driver's wrist. Under the night's light, this color was particularly striking and abnormal, unlike any normal human blood color. It was like a warning in the cold light, revealing a non-human nature.
Revenge's heart raced, and he glanced at the driver from the corner of his eye, only to see him looking back with a sinister smile, a foreboding omen. This expression, this atmosphere, was eerily similar to that of the white-dressed female vampire he had encountered in the forest—equally cunning, equally cold, equally chilling.
Revenge knew that any excessive display could immediately trigger an attack. Therefore, he tried to control his breathing, appearing as calm and composed as possible. His eyes discreetly scanned the interior of the car for potential weapons. The streetlights outside passed quickly, casting an unsettling light inside the car.
Then, his eyes landed on an ordinary pen on the floor beside the seat. In this life-or-death situation, the pen seemed inconspicuous, almost powerless. Revenge cursed inwardly—in the face of vampire danger, he had to rely on such a trivial item. Nonetheless, it was the only viable option he had.
He steeled his heart and decided to take a risk. Just as the driver's gaze shifted slightly, Revenge acted. He quickly picked up the pen and, with a precise and swift movement, stabbed it into the driver's neck. The pen met more resistance than expected, but it ultimately penetrated the flesh.
Instantly, the driver's expression changed from scorn to shock, then to painful distortion. A surge of inexplicable satisfaction surged through Revenge—he, a human student, had subdued a vampire with a pen; he would definitely boast about this to his friends!
However, within seconds, the driver violently twisted his neck, revealing a ferocious smile, "You think this will work on me, young master?" At the same time, the driver's hand reached for Revenge's neck. Revenge felt a near-death suffocation, a mix of despair, struggle, and anger interwoven as he desperately fought back.
At that moment, Revenge felt an unprecedented strength surge through his body. This power swept over him, almost uncontrollable. His muscles were invigorated, each fiber filled with explosive energy. His heart raced, his blood boiling like magma, bringing a fierce craving.
Revenge's senses became acutely sharp. Every slight sound in the night wind, like the distant chirping of insects, was clearly audible. He could even smell the blood on the driver, a scent that accelerated
his heartbeat. This new sensation brought a glint of red to his pupils, revealing the wildness hidden within him.
Suddenly, Revenge's power exploded. His arms were no longer just muscular; they became extraordinarily thick, filled with explosive strength. He grabbed the driver's neck, his arms so powerful they could have ripped the car roof off. With a violent effort, the roof of the car cracked open as if it were a tin can being peeled back.
With his grip firm on the driver's neck, Revenge leaped out of the car, soaring to an astonishing height of ten meters. At that moment, the world seemed to slow down, with only Revenge and his prey moving at high speed. The car crashed into the roadside barrier, sparks flying, finally exploding in a violent impact that lit up the night sky.
Revenge landed with the driver, using the momentum of the fall to smash the driver's head violently into the ground. The impact shattered the pavement, creating a massive crater as debris and dust flew.
Yet, Revenge's rage did not subside. He remembered the scenes from his dream, the peace and safety shattered by the White Party, and this fury made him unstoppable. He pounded the driver's head with punch after punch, each blow with the force of thunder, splattering flesh and blood until the opponent was unrecognizable.
When Revenge finally stopped, he stood in the wreckage he had created, breathing heavily. The firelight from the burning car reflected off his pale face, highlighting his eyes—those deep red pupils that revealed...
The raw, primal power within him had surfaced fully now, marking a transformation that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He felt an overwhelming rush, a blend of adrenaline and something else—something more profound that resonated with the very essence of his being.
This moment of awakening was a turning point for Revenge. No longer just a victim of circumstance, he had become something more—a force to be reckoned with, a creature of the night just as formidable as those he fought against. He stood amidst the chaos, the fire casting shadows that danced around him, an ominous yet empowering sight.
As the realization of his new power settled in, Revenge knew that his life would never be the same. He was now part of a hidden world, a participant in a shadowy battle that stretched beyond the confines of human understanding. With each heartbeat, he felt a deeper connection to the night, to the instincts that now drove him.
Determined to protect those he loved and to fight against the dark forces that had haunted his dreams, Revenge set out into the night. His steps were confident, fueled by a newfound purpose. The night, once a symbol of fear, had become his domain, his sanctuary.
As he disappeared into the darkness, the only trace of his passage was the flickering light of the fire and the echo of his resolve, resounding through the still night air.