Vol2 Chapter 19: Foraging

“First time in a place like this? You seem nervous,” Zero said, wearing a white evening gown and matching gloves, holding a cocktail.

“Yeah, pretty nervous… I’ve never really been to a dance,” Bai Ci admitted, fidgeting on the plush booth. Her idea of a party was drinking Qingdao beer with Lu Mingfei at a barbecue stall. This youth-draining nightclub wasn’t her scene, and she felt out of place.

“Act like a spoiled heiress. That’s how you bait the prey,” Zero said, glancing aside. “Look at her.”

Xia Mi, with a brazen grin, was fully immersed in her role alongside Lu Mingfei, eating and drinking with abandon.

“Come on, Junior Sister, let’s toast!” Lu Mingfei raised his glass to clink with Xia Mi’s, exuding mock bravado.

Xia Mi played along, her vibrant cocktail swirling as she downed it with a gusto that matched any guy.

They were supposed to play a pampered heiress and her dutiful driver, but both ditched the act as too much hassle. With fine food and drink around, why bother? From the moment they arrived, their true selves shone through. After a few drinks, they linked arms and headed to the bar, calling each other “Senior” and “Junior Sister,” nothing like a heiress and driver. Their arm-in-arm drinking looked more intimate than an old married couple.

Bai Ci thought, Lu Mingfei, why are you drinking? You’re the driver! Shouldn’t you be standing by respectfully, watching your ‘heiress’? Didn’t Fingel tell you Xia Mi’s been cozy with Chu Zihang lately? Stealing his girl—are you tired of living?

“May I have this dance?” A low, cool voice interrupted. Bai Ci turned to see a man bowing to Zero, his chiseled face and sexy stubble model-worthy.

Zero was stunning, so invitations were expected.

“Sorry…” Zero dipped her head, declining.

In terms of looks, no one outshone Caesar or Chu Zihang. Chu drew girls effortlessly, while Caesar could charm top actresses and princesses. Yet even Caesar never swayed Zero. This handsome but less wealthy guy stood no chance. The queenly Zero was unmoved by words or appearances—suitors were wasting their time.

Undeterred, the man turned to Bai Ci in her white dress. She waved him off, rejecting him too.

He’d thought his charm would easily win these refined girls, but the rebuffs stung. Sighing, he retreated.

As for the flashy girl throwing money at the bar… probably only a clueless bumpkin would fall for her. Sure, she was rich, splashing cash like water, but only nouveau riche flaunted wealth so hard. No substance.

Xia Mi and Lu Mingfei drank, but their focus was on every passerby. Public funds covered their fun, but the mission came first. Lu Mingfei tried to sense bloodthirsty genes in someone, but none carried Norton’s raw, rookie-detectable menace. Everyone looked the same: handsome, seemingly rich, good dancers… no difference.

—

Cassell’s mission handbook had a rule:

Never use a “soft approach” with dangerous hybrids.

They were barely human. Some humanity might linger, but dragon blood’s savagery warped their worldview, driving them to unthinkable, horrific acts. While you debated their “human rights” or “rehabilitation,” it was already too late.

Mike, 24, once had a happy family. His kind parents pushed him on the backyard swing as a kid, soaring high while his mom snapped photos. Later, a cute little sister joined, trailing him, calling “Brother! Brother!”

Months ago, he crossed a woman—beautiful, with eyes that scorned him like trash. She and her gang beat his parents to death. Clutching his sister, he shielded her, taking the blows. As he neared death, something awoke. Every cell surged, power flooding his veins like a tidal wave. He felt like the world’s center, its master. In a new world, brimming with confidence, everything seemed insignificant. He could kill at will—they’d all be his prey!

Breaking free with brute force, he hacked the gang to pieces with a cleaver, devouring them. His terrified sister huddled nearby, her fear somehow… appetizing.

He buried his family before dawn, used the woman’s money to reinvent himself, and frequented high-end venues.

Tonight, he was here.

Mike sniffed subtly. Maybe from eating too much “gourmet,” his nose was sharp. He could smell a girl in a nearby booth catching feelings, her scent spiking with seductive hormones as a boy kissed her earlobe.

Glass in hand, he moved forward. He always targeted the richest-looking prey. If no one stood out, he’d settle for a pretty one.

But tonight, he changed his mind. He caught a mouthwatering scent—not just one, but two exquisite delicacies.

Soon, he reached them, watching as they rejected a man.

He wasn’t afraid of rejection. His awakened dragon blood ensured no woman could resist him. If they did, he had violent means.

Fingering the remote in his hand, he’d rigged a small homemade bomb to the nightclub’s power grid. It could plunge the place into darkness.