Dungeon Life - Chapter Three-Hundred Twenty-Six

Warning!!! Mature Content (R18)

Yuan wakes up in the body of an 18-year-old boy who oddly resembles his former self from Earth and also goes by the same name. He was an orphan on Earth who passed away after being told that he had leukemia because he was unable to pay for his treatment because he was struggling to make ends meet.

[Ding! The system has successfully rebooted.]

Watch this brilliant young man as he and his partners achieve the pinnacle of cultivation and go on to become legendary figures in the future.

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Vampire Slave Number 43, or the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, learned about the history between the humans and the Vampires and it filled him with rage and hatred.

Nonetheless, he was helpless to do anything.

After years and years of suppression, the Vampires have become the weakest race in the world.

However, lady luck seemed to be on his side as Azriel found an ancient jar filled with mysterious blood that will not only change his, but his race's destiny as well.

This, will be the story about the rise of the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, and the Return of the Forgotten Blood Empire.

...

“Have you heard about the rumour?”

“What rumour?”

“They say that there's a Vampire on the loose, he's out there killing humans mercilessly”

“Hahahaha! That's the funniest joke I ever heard! Vampires? Those Slaves? Hahaha!”

“Yeah, I feel the same! I think someone just started this rumour as a joke! Hahaha! How can those weaklings kill us, humans?”

“True True…”

In a bar, two middle-aged men talked and laughed as they discussed the recent rumour they heard.

Seeing those two, a drunk old man shook his head as he sighed.

“Ignorance is bliss indeed…”

“These younglings do not know what the real fear is…

The vampires may have fallen… but my old bones still remember the days when they were in their prime…”

The old man sobered up in an instant and his body shuddered in fear as the memories of the long-forgotten horror appeared in his mind.

He then took a deep breath as he patted his trembling body and muttered.

“I just hope that they are not back…”

He was the hunting hound of the Baskerville family.

But at the end, he was branded as a traitor and executed.

— — —

Now, he has returned… after 40 years.

“This time, they will be my prey… and I’ll bite every single one of them to death!”

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…