Chapter 420: Want to Get me Drunk? (2/2)

Qianye’s countenance turned bitter. He held the glass in both hands and continued to drink in small sips as though he were taking medicine; it took him quite a while to finish it. Jeers rang out around them, and many people raised their middle fingers at Qianye.

Nighteye reached out to adjust her hair and raised yet another glass. “Come, bottoms up.”

This small movement exposed her countenance to everyone’s eyes. The rowdiness in the bar suddenly decreased by half. Their breathing gradually turned coarse as they stared fixedly at Nighteye.

Qianye continued to frown with a depressed expression as he slowly finished his second glass. This time, the jeers had lessened quite a bit. The house specialty was extremely strong, and not many here could take two glasses without falling under the table.

The bar had turned fairly silent by the time Nighteye raised the third cup. Even the two brawling ladies had stopped and were looking at Nighteye with complicated expressions.

Nighteye’s features could only be described as perfect, one that should never have appeared in such a place. Meanwhile, Qianye wasn’t really inferior either in terms of external appearance. Many people felt that the two sitting there together made quite a good match.

Many young men and women were looking at Nighteye. Many were also looking at Qianye.

And with that, the fourth cup went down.

Nighteye’s countenance was no different from the norm—it was as though she had just drunk four glasses of water. Her eyes had grown more abstruse, however. Qianye, on the other hand, had been swaying since the very first cup and was still wavering right now. But he just wouldn’t go down.

At this point, even the stupidest person would know something wasn’t quite right.

The dup was still in the same state after the fifth cup. Nothing had changed.

“Boss, another ten cups.” Nighteye’s style was just as ruthless and decisive.

But a disruption soon arrived in the form of an extremely burly werewolf. He landed a heavy slap on the counter and stooped down as he said to Nighteye, “Miss Vampire, there’s no point in drinking with that sissy. Drink with me! I, Wildfang, will satisfy you both at the drinking table and in bed! What do you say?”

Some of the other vampires drooling over Nighteye were immediately dissatisfied. One of them released his baron-level aura and said in a deep voice, “Hairy fellow, the noble vampire race isn’t something you can touch!”

Wildfang stared at the vampire baron and stood up straight with a sinister smile. The werewolf was extremely tall and had almost reached the ceiling after standing up. A wild and tyrannical aura emerged from his body, accompanied by a darkness origin power so intense that it almost seemed tangible. Quite impressively, he was a second-rank viscount.

The burly werewolf watched the vampire baron being stifled under the pressure of his aura and said with a sinister smile, “This daddy here has played with hundreds of vampire girls and toyed several dozens more to death! Do you have anything to say? I’ll tell you in passing that this daddy’s full name is Wildfang Bloodcrown.”

That vampire baron’s face was already quite pale, but his expression changed drastically after hearing the name Bloodcrown; his hands started to tremble slightly.

Bloodcrown was a powerful major tribe among the werewolves, only second to the Summit of Peaks. However, the Bloodcrowns were exceedingly radical and preferred the use of military power to solve every problem. It was one of the most aggressive werewolf tribes, and all who hail from it were extremely powerful warriors. Just like the Twelve Ancient Vampire Clans, their strength couldn’t be measured just by rank.

It was at this time that a middle-aged vampire walked over. He stood in front of the baron and said coldly, “Wildfang, he’s one of mine.”

This vampire appeared thin and weak, but the blood energy being released from his body was extremely dense—he was also a second-rank viscount. All the vampires in the bar turned pale from the suppression of his superior bloodline.

Wildfang focused his gaze and said coldly, “Brock, other’s might fear you, but I certainly don't. This lass here is mine. Are you going to bring up your noble bloodline again?”

Brock spoke while staring at Wildfang, “My family and yours are just about equal, and it’s not as if we’ve never fought either. Why must I compromise? Let’s do it like this. We’ll let her choose. How about it?”

Wildfang let out a series of sinister laughs and turned to Nighteye with hot air spouting out of his nose. “Lass, what do you say?”

Nighteye raised her hand and splashed the wine onto Wildfang’s face. She had only one word to say, and that was “Scram.”

Wildfang laughed instead of getting angry and proceeded to lick the wine on his face with a scarlet tongue. “Feisty. I like it!”

The werewolf then moved his mountain-like body toward Qianye and said, “What do you say, brat?”

Qianye’s reply was even more direct. He picked up the wine glass and smashed it onto Wildfang’s face!

The glass split into several pieces with a loud bang, leaving a mixture of spirit and blood dripping down Wildfang’s face.

Wildfang was momentarily startled because he had never expected Qianye to smash his face directly. The entire bar fell silent.

“You’re courting death!” With a furious roar, Wildfang swung his fist down on Qianye!

Qianye could barely reach the werewolf’s shoulder even when standing; the difference between their physiques was simply too great. A swing of Wildfang’s fist was sure to badly injure anyone below the level of baron.

Qianye raised a single hand amidst a series of gasps and grabbed Wildfang’s heavy fist. But contrary to expectations, he wasn’t smashed to the floor. His other hand struck out at lightning speed and landed a solid blow on Wildfang’s abdomen—almost his entire forearm went into the latter’s body.