Chapter 211 Eating Is the Privilege of the Living

The leatherworker rolled over and crushed the vampire into the soil, then turned over again to restore his original posture - the strange form that moved with elbows, knees and toes.

Clayton did not even look at Barbara. In terms of immortality, the vampire was much stronger than him.

The werewolf's body sank down and rushed forward again. The black figure hit the leatherworker's head like a cannonball, which had no means of counterattack, but the pale and slender body stood up at the moment before being hit and avoided the attack.

The floating soil exploded in front of it, dyeing the white body a little dark.

Taking advantage of Clayton's attack missing, the leatherworker opened his right hand, and the sharp fingers like a cone did not attack the opponent, but pierced into his broken left arm. The bloody fingertips picked up a bunch of long black tendons from the flesh, which were quickly pulled by its fingers, and circled around the injured arm and wrist. Then, the fingers hooked by the tendons suddenly pulled out, and the long black line tied the bent arm back to a straight shape.

Such an action reminded Clayton of the work of flower arrangers, who used black thin iron wires to fix the flowers into shape.

The leatherworker's craftsmanship was much better than theirs.

But this did not prevent the werewolf from eating it in a while.

The leatherworker's two claws swung down from above at the same time, carrying his weight and full body strength to press down heavily on the werewolf in front of him.

Clayton did not dodge, but stepped forward and knocked himself into the arms of the leatherworker.

The werewolf was shorter than the leatherworker, but he was even stronger. When he shortened the distance between them in this way, not only did the opponent's downward slash fail, but also the way of fighting became the one he was most familiar with - wrestling.

The werewolf and the leatherworker were no longer human, but their bone structures were still similar to humans, which allowed Clayton to use his skills.

He almost lay on the ground, his strong arms wrapped around the leatherworker's waist, and pulled his upper body down as much as possible.

If you don't look at their appearance, their postures are more like a pair of lovers entangled.

It's just that there is a little too much blood.

The leatherworker's arm bones have been alienated, and he can't insert his hands under his body, but there are still white bone spurs growing on his elbows to assist his movements.

The bone spurs repeatedly inserted and pulled out of the flesh and blood of the shoulder and neck, and even poured dead branches and leaves into the wound, but Clayton didn't care. He let the other party use these bone spurs to attack his head and neck. The binding ceremony not only brought him more combat skills, but also adaptability to pain. He has more important things to do.

It's time to eat.

The sharp fangs pierced the leatherworker's abdomen without bone protection, and the red blood that was no different from that of humans gushed out and poured into the werewolf's wide-open mouth.

The fishy and smelly flesh and blood to ordinary people looked different to the werewolf's sense of smell.

The indescribable fragrance poured into Clayton's mouth and nose. He stretched his mouth and almost poked his nose into the wound, but a layer of black retina blocked his nose and blocked the fangs and tongue's temptation.

This layer of material was just like the tendons that the leatherworker pulled out of his body to fix the affected area. It was extremely flexible and the werewolf couldn't tear it apart for a while.

And just as he touched the black retina, the leatherworker struggled even more frantically.

Its limbs with bone spurs twitched and slapped on the ground, and the sand and soil rose and fell like waves, splashing clusters of "water splashes". The dead trees nearby shook because of the unstable root system.

Even the werewolf couldn't control it for a moment, and it broke free from his arms.

The monster twisted by human malice let out its first howl under the night sky, and its right hand stabbed down at a speed that Clayton couldn't react to, and its five fingers like a cone pierced the werewolf's raised left arm, just like this great enemy had done to it before.

Clayton reacted as quickly as possible.

While raising his arm to block, he tightened the muscles of his left arm and twisted the five fingers of the leatherworker who inserted into the wound into his muscles to fix it. Then he raised his right hand without fear and clenched it into a fist, hitting the expected piercing attack from the opponent's left arm.

He swung in vain.

The leatherworker also swung in vain.

At some point, Barbara had ridden on its back, her face covered with dirt, her left hand raised high, waving the "flag" in her hand towards the moonlight.

That was the leatherworker's left arm.

At the same time, a few frozen blood and flesh residues fell from the wound on the pale monster's shoulder, red and black coexisting.

The black membrane froze and shattered in the cold, and failed to play the role it should have.

The leatherworker turned his slender neck to bite her, not because of anger, but because of the fear hidden in the beast's nature.

However, this time it did not succeed.

Because the werewolf also took off its right arm.

Clayton held its right arm in his mouth and rolled out from under the body that collapsed without support.

In order to seize this arm as quickly as possible, the wound on his left hand was severely enlarged, and his gums bled due to excessive force. Three fingers on his right hand were also broken for the same reason.

The leatherworker who lost both arms was no longer a threat. Clayton did not even look at it, but just stared at Barbara, who was trying to draw blood from the broken arm.

"Good job." Clayton praised, but his heart was not calm.

Barbara tore off the leatherworker's arm too easily. He knew that it was because the cold had a restraining effect on flesh and blood, not because the vampire's power was far superior to his, but he still instinctively felt hostility in his heart.

Saga would fight with all beings who dared to protest against him, and its memory affected Clayton.

Barbara was completely unaware of this. She drank a lot of blood, then raised her head and said happily: "If there is such a good thing next time, Mr. Bello, you must take me out."

As she said that, she lowered her head and used her fangs to absorb the blood from the broken arm.

It seems that this first-generation vampire is not aware of how powerful he is. The werewolf turned his head away and didn't want to look at her, but his perspective was different from that of a human. He could still see Barbara in his peripheral vision, so he simply lowered his head and absent-mindedly bit the broken arm in his hand.

The leatherworker was no longer a human. He had no resistance to doing this, and his injuries also needed energy to recover.

The leatherworker was not dead yet. It was howling in pain. Its disarticulated hind legs were rubbing against the ground, trying to escape from here in a way similar to that of an insect. So the werewolf had to step on its back and break its two hind legs.

In this way, the food would not fly off the table.

It was foreseeable that he and Barbara would eat most of the leatherworker tonight.

But if possible, he wished that his niece Donna was with him to eat the leatherworker.

Family dinner, how pleasant this word is.

Clayton shuddered and suddenly woke up to the absurdity of his thoughts. He wanted Donna to stay away from such a life, so how could he eat raw meat with her? He laughed at himself and focused more on eating.

As the flesh and blood fell into his stomach, the flesh and blood of the leatherworker gave him an unusual feeling when digesting.

Not only the essence, but also some other things were taken in, but he couldn't be sure what it was. He just instinctively felt that it was harmless, and it could even allow him to go a step further, like a spell-binding ritual to advance his abilities.

[Dense Flesh] - This is the benefit he noticed from the flesh and blood of the leatherworker.

This was not available in the food in the past. Was it that his perception ability was a step closer and he could detect more details, or was it the difference in ingredients that made this difference?

Clayton subconsciously looked at Barbara, hoping to verify his guess from her.

Then he saw the housewife secretly stuffing the flesh and blood of the leatherworker into her arms, even if the blood soaked her long skirt.

Noticing his sight, Barbara smiled timidly, but still insisted: "I feel it has the effect of maintaining skin. If Pero eats this, maybe he can have fewer wrinkles."

It seems that it is not an illusion - Clayton turned his head and suddenly thought of something. He threw away the empty arm bone and grabbed the leatherworker's head with his claws and lifted it up.

"Can you still understand our language and respond?"

The leatherworker's smooth, hairless head, which was indistinguishable between male and female, had a constant expression, still baring its teeth at the werewolf, and when Clayton pointed its face at Barbara, its red eyes were completely attracted to the female vampire.

Its struggle even slowed down, and its expression became peaceful.

The leatherworker was a depraved creature that fell because of its desire for beauty. In the early stages of transformation, it could still retain a certain degree of rationality.

But with the complete transformation, the overpowering desire seemed to have overwhelmed its rationality, making it only able to act like a beast. This was why Clayton's initial act of throwing Barbara into the air could make it relax its guard against itself, because it was about to appreciate this beautiful "dead" thing wholeheartedly.

Clayton was not disappointed. If it could overcome its desire, its power would not be something that he and Barbara could kill together.

In order to increase the power of the evil creature, it must constantly satisfy its own desires. Only by taking the skin of the qualified beautiful people can its power be increased.

The memory from Saga let Clayton know that this leatherworker was not as powerful as its kind, and at best it was just a newborn.

Hmm, newborn?

A flash of inspiration suddenly flashed through the werewolf's mind, but it was soon blinded by bloodthirsty desire.

He gave up thinking, lowered his head and bit off the leatherworker's neck, and tore a large piece of flesh from its body and stuffed it into his mouth, enjoying the pleasure of becoming stronger through eating.

There was no time to waste on thinking, Barbara would not wait for him.

The night owl cried, and there was no one around.

In this deep forest, the monsters leisurely shared another monster, and the dull chewing sound was endless, and all their energy was invested in eating.

Just like that, they all forgot about Ian Lazarus.