That piercing howl sent a chill straight down everyone's spine.
"He... he's summoning his Vampire Horde!"
"That's the signal for slaughter."
"Shit, what do we do now?"
"..."
Panic rippled through Aiden and the others.
But after a few tense moments, Monroe's howl faded into silence—an eerie, deathly silence.
No response came from the direction of his stronghold.
In fact, it was unnaturally quiet.
"Huh?" Monroe's face twisted in confusion. Something felt off.
No movement?
Where the hell were his Gunners? And the hundred-thousand-strong Vampire Horde?
He let out another roar, voice echoing through the ruined streets—but no undead army came charging to his aid. He stood there, dumbfounded, a flicker of awkwardness crossing his face.
"Don't bother yelling," Ethan said, lifting his gaze. "Your little minions? I already took care of them."
"What?" Monroe's eyes narrowed in disbelief.
