Bang! Bang!
Two gunshots rang out.
Two silver-white bullets shot down towards Count Dracula from mid-air.
Yang Tian clearly felt that these two silver-white bullets were imbued with holy water.
Vampires fear holy water the most.
Yang Tian was curious, though: after five hundred years of slumber, would this fearsome Count Dracula still be afraid of holy water?
At that moment, Yang Tian retreated to the front of Wu Yue, Ling Ying, and Wu Zetian, ready to watch the show.
"Van Helsing, it's been five hundred years, and you're still not dead?"
Count Dracula coldly shouted.
With a wave of his hand, a strong blood blast shattered the two approaching bullets.
"That question should be asked by me instead!"
A voice filled with murderous intent sounded as a man descended from the sky, landing with a crash on the icy crystal coffin.
