Amid the thunderous sound of pounding hooves, Qin Ming and the others, riding the triceratops, quickly caught up to the carriage.
Inside the carriage, Count Dracula turned his head in surprise, staring at Qin Ming in disbelief—while still leisurely sipping tea. This infuriated Qin Ming.
"You're still drinking tea? If you've got guts, stop and fight me one-on-one! Just because you're a vampire, you think you can call yourself Dracula? Are you guys mass-producing that name or what?! Get down here! I swear I'll rip your wig off and drag it across the floor! Get down here!"
Protagonists usually had strong backing—mess with one and you'd likely provoke a whole faction.
But villains were different. They often operated alone, as regional bosses. Kill one, and that was the end of it.
So between picking a fight with Zhao Honghua or Dracula, Qin Ming made a swift decision: Dracula would be the first target—even if the vampire hadn't technically offended him yet.
As for dealing with the reckless Zhao Honghua… he'd deal with that later.
While shouting, Qin Ming also reached out, trying to grab the ghost carriage's door.
But as soon as his hand touched the handle, it passed right through.
The ghost carriage was actually a ghost! It had no physical form!
Stunned by this, Qin Ming paused for a second—then got even angrier.
"You dare ride a ghost carriage?! I haven't even ridden one yet! And you're already enjoying it? Get down here!"
As he yelled, he raised his hand and fired a blood sphere, white flames blazing on its surface.
Seeing the fiery attack, Count Dracula—who had been stunned, teacup still in hand—finally snapped back to reality.
He hastily dodged the fireball, watching as it passed through the ghost carriage and hit the wall behind.
Now being attacked, Count Dracula was visibly pissed.
"You bloated blood sack! Who gave you the right to speak to me like that?!"
"Blood sack?! Say that to my face! Let's see who the real blood sack is! I'll suck you dry like a damn tomato!"
"Such vulgarity! Utterly uncultured! You low-class gorilla!"
It was obvious that Count Dracula, as a noble vampire, looked down on anything that wasn't also a vampire.
Facing Qin Ming, he made no effort to hide his contempt.
Qin Ming, on the other hand, was far more straightforward.
He didn't look down on others because of bloodlines—he just looked down on everyone, period. He insulted anyone who showed up!
The two lunatics—one riding a dinosaur, the other sitting in a ghost carriage—furiously hurled insults and attacks at each other.
Qin Ming fired blood spheres. Dracula responded with blood blades. It was like some deranged game of dodgeball, the two of them furiously battling at a distance.
Eventually, Count Dracula realized he couldn't win and chose to retreat.
After all, just compare their physiques. Qin Ming's blood capacity alone probably doubled Dracula's. If it came down to a ranged blood battle, Dracula didn't stand a chance.
Seeing Dracula trying to escape by steering his carriage away, Qin Ming furrowed his brows and immediately gave chase.
Noticing this, Count Dracula scowled and urged his ghost horses to go faster.
It wasn't that he was afraid of Qin Ming—he was more concerned about Zhao Honghua.
The kid beside him was a headache, and that Zhao Honghua woman was no pushover either. He wasn't stupid enough to stick around and brawl with all of them at once.
Steering the horses, Count Dracula used the ghost carriage's intangible nature to phase through various obstacles.
Meanwhile, Qin Ming, riding the triceratops, smashed through everything in their path with brute force.
The chase escalated until Dracula's carriage slammed headfirst into a wall.
As the carriage rocked, the ghostly vehicle touched the wall and, like diving into water, seamlessly melted into it, taking the vampire Count inside along with it.
Right behind him, Qin Ming charged forward on his triceratops and activated his wall-piercing skill, phasing straight through the wall.
With a thunderous crash, the wall exploded into pieces. Covered in dust, Qin Ming rode his dinosaur straight into the building's interior.
Looking up, he found that Count Dracula had already vanished. In his place stood a crowd of strangely shaped zombies.
All the zombies were now turning their heads to look at him. Qin Ming, still astride the triceratops, patted the dust off his clothes and asked with a deadpan face, "Hey, have any of you seen a pale, scrawny guy in outdated clothes? Looks like a damn porcelain doll?"
Silence filled the hall. Only one particularly skinny zombie instinctively raised a hand and pointed to the side—only to be immediately slapped by another zombie and quickly lowered its arm.
Just as the atmosphere in the room grew tense and bizarre, the sound of a door opening suddenly came from nearby.
The next second, a wild-haired old man wearing a lab coat stepped out of the hallway and into the room. His hair was a giant frizzy explosion, and his eyes gleamed madly.
As he entered, rubbing his hands together, his gaze landed on Qin Ming—and visibly lit up. He let out a shrill scream.
"Get him! Kill him! I want both his arms!"
[Name: Frankenstein]
[Strength: 40]
[Constitution: 40]
[Agility: 60]
[Spirit: 60]
[Skills: Zombie Modification Surgery (S-Rank), Complete Scalpel Techniques (B-Rank)]
[Bio: How many times do I have to say it?! The monster isn't called Frankenstein! The scientist who made him is! That's the name!]
At Frankenstein's command, the horde of zombies in the room charged at Qin Ming.
Each and every one of them was a modified zombie.
On top of their original bodies corrupted by dark powers, their genes had been forcibly altered through technological means, turning them into grotesque products of science!
Surgical scars were clearly visible on their bodies, and their limbs had been fitted with all kinds of weapons. Howling, they launched a ferocious assault.
Seeing this, Qin Ming frowned. Yanking the reins, he had his triceratops charge straight into the crowd.
As he rode into them, he conjured a long whip of blood and swung it continuously.
Zombies were whipped apart, limbs flying through the air, as Qin Ming rampaged through their ranks like a wrecking ball. Watching this, Frankenstein grew more and more excited, shouting nonstop.
"A powerful body! Incredible strength! Amazing abilities! This is the perfect specimen! A gift from the heavens!"
BOOM!
Before Frankenstein could finish his sentence, a massive crash interrupted him.
Qin Ming, having heard the shouting, directly rode his triceratops straight toward him.
Still awestruck by Qin Ming's physique and power, Frankenstein didn't even have time to react before being rammed head-on.
Maybe the triceratops was bulky and hard to steer.
But if you couldn't dodge its charge, then forget about regular bosses—even Qin Ming himself would suffer.
Frankenstein was instantly impaled on the dinosaur's horn and lifted into the air with a blood-curdling scream.
A second later, he was smashed against a wall, crashing clean through it.
With rumbling crashes one after another, the triceratops charged through thirteen consecutive walls in a single burst, nearly penetrating the entire abandoned hospital.
By the time Frankenstein was flung off after slamming through all thirteen walls, he was already on the brink of death.
As just the first sub-boss of the Midnight Slaughter stage, he wasn't even close to Qin Ming's level—hell, he couldn't even beat the triceratops.
After all, all his power was focused on scientific modifications. He was, essentially, just a glorified support unit.
(End of Chapter)