Chapter Forty-Five: Don’t Hold Me Back

"Who is it?!"
The bloodstained blade pierced through the front of the ghoul’s chest. Caught off guard by the ambush, it spat a spray of blood, its crimson eyes bulging wide in disbelief.

Furiously clenching its jaw, the ghoul flung Snowball aside without hesitation, retracting its two tentacles and whipping them back at the assailant with blinding speed.

Cheng Feng hadn’t expected this creature, even with a blade driven through its chest, to counterattack so swiftly. Surprised, he yanked Raikiri free and twisted aside, narrowly evading a howling black tentacle.

Clutching its bleeding chest, the ghoul turned, eyes burning with rage, desperate to see the face of its attacker. Out of the corner of its eye, it caught a glimpse of Cheng Feng’s silhouette—when, by its right ear, there came a swift, whistling sound that nearly shattered its eardrum.

Cheng Feng’s leg lashed out in a whip-like arc and crashed into the ghoul’s right cheek, the impact cracking bone with a dull, sickening crunch. Its cheekbone shattered; its right face split open, raw and bloody, a horrific sight. The blow flung the ghoul sideways, spinning through the air until it slammed into the living room sofa, sending it toppling askew.

Snowball hit the floor with a “thud.” She was bewildered that the ghoul had released her and shook her head, trying to clear her panic-addled mind. When she looked up, she saw Cheng Feng sending the ghoul flying.

“You’re still alive, human?” Her expression brimmed with astonishment and delight.

Cheng Feng was both perplexed and angry. Perplexed, because he hadn’t intended to meddle, yet now it seemed that, thanks to the little white cat, he was inevitably drawn into these affairs. Angry, because he’d nearly been killed for no reason by a ghoul who’d broken into his home.

Fortunately, the recuperative power bestowed by the “Vampiric Physique” was second to none—otherwise, his life would have ended here tonight. He’d just awoken from unconsciousness, his wounds healing automatically, and immediately sought vengeance against the ghoul who had ambushed him. To his surprise, the ghoul had assumed he was dead and had turned its focus entirely to attacking Snowball, utterly unguarded.

“You brat… you’re not human after all!”
Clutching the edge of the sofa, the ghoul shakily rose, its mangled face glaring daggers at Cheng Feng. Murderous intent blazed in its eyes as it ground out, “Why aren’t you dead? Are you a vampire? That’s impossible… I don’t smell the scent of the bloodline on you!”

Its wounds slowly began to knit—ghouls, too, possessed regenerative powers, though not nearly as potent as those of vampires, the nearly immortal monsters.

The ghoul was utterly confounded. By rights, Cheng Feng should have died when he’d opened the door—yet here he stood, his wounds vanished. If not for the fresh blood still staining Cheng Feng, the ghoul might have thought him a ghost. To heal injuries in less than ten seconds—among monsters, only vampires could do that. Yet Cheng Feng’s scent was purely human. It was inexplicable.

There was only one possibility: Cheng Feng’s body harbored both human and vampire genes.

As the ghoul’s mind raced, Cheng Feng shot a glance at the little white cat beneath the window and warned, “If you value your life, stay back. Don’t get in the way.”

Snowball, about to step forward, halted. She hurriedly said, “This ghoul is strong—we’ll need to work together. Alone, we’ve no chance.”

“Save it,” Cheng Feng sneered, his face full of disdain. “With your skills, you’d only serve to feed him. Don’t drag me down, or I’ll cut you down too.”

“You…” Snowball was infuriated, but her concern remained. “Then be careful.”

In the midst of their exchange, the ghoul seized the chance to strike. Two tentacles lashed out in wide arcs, surging toward Cheng Feng with lethal force.

“Come on, then!”
Cheng Feng gripped Raikiri’s hilt and entered Spirit Power Release mode. His pitch-black pupils burst into brilliant white, transforming into dazzling silver irises. With a powerful swing, he brought the spirit blade down on a black tentacle—a shower of sparks flew as the keen edge scraped the rubbery appendage.

Cheng Feng hadn’t held back, but Raikiri couldn’t slice through the bizarre tentacle. The immense force sent him flying backward, barely missing the coffee table; he twisted his body and landed steadily, halting his momentum.

His eyes sharp, Cheng Feng lunged toward the ghoul. The creature, loath to let him close, whipped its tentacles again—like two agile black whips, snapping so fast they blurred, their strikes shattering the tiled floor wherever they landed.

With his spirit power unleashed, Cheng Feng’s visual acuity was heightened; he could just make out the attacking tentacles’ trajectories. Since the spirit blade couldn’t cleave them and dodging was difficult, he could only choose to block.

Activating Blood Manipulation, fine threads of blood seeped from the pores of his right wrist, flowing into his palm and coalescing into a man-sized shield of blood.

After their last fight, Cheng Feng had practiced this new ability at home many times. Now, his blood could not only form swords, spears, lances, and daggers—even shields were possible. Given enough time, he might one day forge a Gatling gun to sweep the field clean.

Cheng Feng held his blade in his left hand, the shield before him in his right.

The two tentacles struck in quick succession, smashing into the shield with tremendous force, cracking its surface into a web of fissures. After all, Blood Manipulation was only at level one; without upgrading, the quality of weapons he could create was still lacking—but for a ghoul, it sufficed.

Having blocked the flurry of attacks, he dissolved the shield and reshaped the blood into a long spear, hurling it with all his might.

The blood spear whistled through the air. The ghoul’s scarlet pupils shrank as it dodged hastily. In that fleeting moment, Cheng Feng was upon it, his silver eyes cold, blade slashing downward.

“Damn it!” The ghoul reacted swiftly, retreating as it raised its arms to block.

With a flash, two severed, bleeding arms spun through the air. The ghoul was cornered, with nowhere left to escape.

“Wait! We can talk this out!”

In the face of death, the ghoul cried out in terror. Yet a glint of cunning flickered in its eyes—its two tentacles arced behind Cheng Feng, aiming to impale him from the rear.

“Talk to your mother,” Cheng Feng spat, utterly unmoved. Raikiri’s razor tip pierced the ghoul’s left chest, skewering its heart in a single thrust.

This ghoul had ambushed him upon entering, nearly taking his life. Now, defeated, it wanted to negotiate? No such luck.

The ghoul spat blood, and in its dying moments, its black tentacles whipped back, aiming to stab Cheng Feng from behind.

“Look out!”
Snowball dashed in from the side, ramming Cheng Feng with all her strength and knocking him to the ground. The two black tentacles plunged straight into the ghoul itself, delivering a final, icy end.