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The unnatural stability of the vampire virus likely explained how, in Blade, that hematologist managed to develop a retroviral serum in just a few days.
However, the serum in the movie only worked on those newly infected—before full transformation. Once someone had completely turned, the serum would simply kill them.
So… should he make one?
Cruella, as a designer, still had value—she came recommended by Givenchy, after all. And despite her loud personality, she somehow clicked with Charlize. Maintaining that alliance mattered.
Moreover, a vampire serum could also be used to win over Blade and Abraham Whistler.
After all, the attack on Jasper Badden was already a declaration of war. If Black Superman didn't want to waste time personally hunting vampires, supporting professional vampire hunters was the most efficient approach.
Even outside the Marvel context, among all vampire hunters he knew of, Blade ranked the highest. The only issue was his identity as a half-vampire, which made many reluctant to cooperate with him.
Thirdly, from his time as a Tinkerer, Black Superman had synthesized plenty of conventional pharmaceuticals through chemical methods. He wasn't a complete novice in medicine.
Granted, retroviruses belonged to genetic engineering—a completely different field from traditional chemistry. But the foundational knowledge? He already had it. What he lacked was hands-on experience.
Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity.
And for Jasper Badden—
If he didn't act, Jasper was as good as dead.
There was no way Black Superman would allow a newly turned vampire to remain at Cruella's side.
If Jasper couldn't be restored to humanity, then even if Whistler didn't kill him, Black Superman would drag him into the sunlight himself.
Even if that meant completely offending Cruella.
She had far too many opportunities to get close to Charlize. That kind of risk couldn't be tolerated.
With so many reasons to act, Black Superman didn't hesitate.
He glanced at Jasper, whose condition had stabilized somewhat but who had begun running a fever.
"Take care of him," he said. "I'm going to make a serum."
"A serum? How are you going to make a serum?" Whistler asked in shock.
Black Superman raised the blood sample he had drawn earlier.
"This contains vampire virus in the transformation stage. Since it's a virus, we treat it like one. That makes sense, right?"
"You sure it'll work?"
"If it doesn't," Black Superman replied coldly, "he's dead anyway. Isn't he?"
His voice, distorted and emotionless, continued:
"That's why I didn't take him with me. I need you to verify whether what I make works.
"If it doesn't… then he died from the vampire attack earlier."
Whistler and Blade exchanged a look.
The old hunter said, "You should know—he doesn't have much time to wait for you to slowly figure this out."
"I know. Which is why I should be doing exactly that right now."
With that, Black Superman turned and left.
The moment he stepped out of sight, he activated his super speed and flight, returning instantly to the Yangdong Valley Laboratory.
---
Left behind, the two hunters weren't particularly interested in the mysterious man—at least not beyond casual discussion.
"Where'd he come from?" Whistler asked.
"I was tracking a group of vampire killers. He showed up out of nowhere," Blade replied. "Came for the guy on the table."
"Know who he is?"
"Not a vampire. Not a cop. That's enough."
"Doesn't look like X-Men or Brotherhood either," Whistler muttered, still guessing based on the silver-proof skin.
"Who cares."
Blade swept the cash back into the bag and tossed it to Whistler.
Catching it, the old man asked, "There really a hundred grand in here?"
"Close enough. Didn't count."
Blade looked at Jasper. "What do we do with him?"
"Tie him up. I'm not babysitting, and I don't want him wandering off," Whistler said, grabbing a box and starting to clear the table.
As Blade found some rope, he frowned. "Is that really necessary?"
"Yes. Once we're done here, we move."
Whistler's tone turned sharp.
"This place is compromised. Doesn't matter if that guy means harm—too many people know about it now. You want to wake up one day with someone tearing this place apart? Fuck!"
He suddenly exploded in anger, startling even Blade.
Blade's expression twitched slightly. "What are you yelling about?"
"That shady bastard—didn't he call himself 'Black Superman'?"
"He's not even Black. You saw his skin. Colorblind doesn't mean blind," Blade shot back. "And I don't know what he calls himself."
Whistler stepped aside, revealing their computer system.
On the bulky CRT monitor—originally displaying a Windows 95 interface—part of the screen was now overridden by a message:
I can see you. — Black Superman
Blade's eyes narrowed. "He hacked our system? How?"
"Hell if I know."
For an old hunter like Whistler, learning to use a computer was already an achievement. Setting up surveillance, wiring systems, linking everything together—that was beyond most users of his generation.
But hacking?
Writing code?
Infiltrating systems?
That was beyond him.
Even when he rebooted into safe mode and ran antivirus scans like in the DOS days, nothing showed up.
Because there was no virus.
Black Superman had used a worm—
And at this point in time, antivirus software didn't even know to look for that.
Blade stared at the message, thinking.
"What's his angle?" he muttered. "Looking for trouble?"
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