Adam made no effort to hide his delight as he carefully examined the new Xenomorph that carried vampire genes. He named it the Blood Xenomorph.
Compared to more dramatic names like "Abomination Strain," it was rather plain, but it fit well enough alongside specialized variants like the Ice Xenomorph.
The Blood Xenomorph had the standard drone appearance: bipedal, roughly 2.5 meters tall, with a smooth, elongated head. A cluster of mysterious tubes ran along its back, looking almost like technological interfaces meant to connect to large machinery. Its entire body was covered in a tough exoskeleton capable of withstanding heavy impacts. Ordinary large-caliber firearms would struggle to inflict meaningful damage.
Even standard drones born from human hosts could survive hits from high-caliber rounds without fatal injury.
Additionally, Blood Xenomorphs could draw extra energy directly from blood.
Ordinary Xenomorphs relied on consuming large amounts of flesh to maintain their strength.
"In terms of role division, these Blood Xenomorphs are basically the drones seen in the first Alien film... just a step above the messengers in the hive hierarchy."
Adam admired his new creation while the remaining vampires stared in frozen horror.
"W-what the hell is that thing?!"
"Parasitism?"
A spider-like creature had emerged from the egg, wrapped around a face, somehow died, left the host unconscious, and then a fast-growing humanoid monster had burst from the man's chest.
The sequence followed a clear linear logic with cause and effect, but when you thought about it, the whole process was completely unscientific.
The vampires finally understood why this human had cared so much about keeping them alive.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
With successful parasitism confirmed, the remaining two eggs opened in turn and completed their own implantations.
Dennis tried one last desperate plea. He pointed out that Adam only had three eggs, so only three vampires could be parasitized. What about the rest of them?
Surely they weren't just food?
Adam reassured him kindly that he had no intention of turning them into food, but they shouldn't get their hopes up about escaping.
Soon after, the massive figure that had remained motionless in the deepest part of the cavern... the Xenomorph Queen... stirred. In front of everyone, she prepared herself and laid a fresh egg through the ovipositor tube.
"So that's how the tube works."
Dennis's spirit finally broke. As another facehugger lunged at him, he lost consciousness in utter despair.
Before long, six Blood Xenomorphs... each noticeably stronger than their vampire hosts... stood obediently before Adam.
They were ravenous. With his permission, they tore into the remains of their former hosts.
"The local wildlife has been wiped out. Looks like I'll need a different approach to secure a steady food supply…"
Several food companies in New York soon received large orders.
The next few days passed unusually quietly. No vampires came knocking. In their preliminary assessment, the missing vampires had probably been chopped up by Blade.
Meanwhile, in the abandoned building next door, a group of people arrived during the day and promptly opened a butcher shop.
The brazen lack of any real attempt at disguise actually earned Adam's appreciation.
Surveillance was this open these days?
"Hey guys, you do know these two buildings are scheduled for demolition, right? I heard they're planning a big office complex here," Adam called over.
"We know. But before the official demolition, running a fresh meat business here seems pretty promising."
Adam nodded repeatedly in agreement. "So why does your butcher shop only sell raw meat?"
This time, the agent didn't respond.
Adam figured that processing raw meat into cooked products would raise costs and affect credibility, but advertising cooked meat while actually selling raw allowed them to inflate expenses and squeeze more funding from their superiors.
The butcher shop "owner" felt extremely unlucky.
As one of Dum Dum Dugan's low-value clones, he had simply copied the style of a certain Level 8 agent... telling everyone he was FBI, telling FBI personnel he was CIA, telling CIA he was FBI. Only when the agencies started comparing notes and clashing would he finally admit he was S.H.I.E.L.D.
No one ever remembered the full name of S.H.I.E.L.D. anyway, or had any clear idea what the organization actually did.
But this time he had run into a stubborn and somewhat influential man... Captain George Stacy.
Damn it. He had simply been following routine procedure, confidently ordering the local police department to conduct a preliminary investigation.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. had to personally handle every single suspected supernatural incident across the world, they would have burned out long ago. Even with his original's ability to create a swarm of memory-sharing clones, there were limits!
Now he had no choice but to handle this assignment himself.
The one silver lining was that the target had Blade's endorsement, confirming he wasn't some indiscriminate killer. At least he had some basic principles.
"What level agent are you?"
Sure enough, the man who commanded strange creatures was leaning out of a broken window again, shouting across at him.
"Yesterday I was Level Three. Now I'm Level Two," he replied. He still wasn't sure whether this mission counted as a success or failure.
After all, he was just a disposable clone.
At least things were progressing in an orderly manner without needing to call for backup. That was something.
He could also help the original squeeze some extra funding out of that stingy bald director.
Adam stared at the man across from him. He was now completely certain this was a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative.
As the organization tasked with monitoring global superhuman activity and backed by the world's major powers, keeping tabs on special individuals was literally their job.
Still, Adam was surprised they had sent someone so straightforward to watch him.
"Even if Blade hasn't formed the Howling Commandos yet, he's definitely established contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. He might already be one of their high-level agents."
In the future, Blade would become a Level 10 S.H.I.E.L.D. operative.
It was only natural that S.H.I.E.L.D. would learn about his dealings with Blade. The existence of the Xenomorphs would be exposed sooner or later anyway. And precisely because of how he had conducted himself, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't classify him as a high-threat individual... at least not yet. What Adam needed right now was exactly that "not yet."
He liked straightforward people. It meant he didn't have to overwork his brain.
Especially once he learned that the agent monitoring him was called Dum Dum. That confirmed the man's identity.
Dum Dum Dugan was also a Level 10 operative with the ability to share a single memory archive across his clones, making him one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most overworked assets.
Adam showed no strong reaction to being observed so openly. In an era where superhumans were hardly rare, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s job was to investigate and evaluate every superhuman individual they could find.
If a target was deemed harmless and their abilities weren't particularly dangerous, the information would simply be filed away and the surveillance withdrawn. As long as they didn't commit crimes, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't pay them much further attention.
…
Nick Fury stared at the report in his hands with an expressionless face.
"The target is suspected of conducting secret biological experiments, using Blade to obtain research funding?"
"Yes. According to the police officers, he can command strange but powerful creatures and captured several vampires alive."
"No, that's not what I'm emphasizing." Fury tapped the table and raised his voice. "I'm saying this guy registered a Weyland Biotech company and is conducting legal biological experiments?"
He put heavy stress on the word "legal."
Those bizarre creatures were certainly worth watching. In a world crawling with madmen, anyone bold enough to show their face usually had real ability.
Fury's meaning was crystal clear as he fixed his gaze on his old comrade. "This man called Adam... who does he belong to?"