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Midnight. The crescent moon hung at an angle, dark clouds cloaked the sky, and even the glowing city lights couldn't dispel the heavy atmosphere pressing down on everything.
Erik stood on the rooftop of a tall building, staring out at the rotten city below—a city riddled with vampire corruption.
On the street, a drunk staggered along, taking swigs from his bottle.
"Motherf**ker! So what if you've got some damn money?! You think you're all that?!"
He ranted angrily, venting his frustration.
"You damn b*tch, one day I'm gonna pin you down and make you beg! F**k!"
Drunk, foul-mouthed, reeking of booze... This type was everywhere in Hell's Kitchen, one of America's most chaotic neighborhoods.
He stumbled into an alley where a group of punks were hanging out.
They didn't say a word—just exchanged glances and grinned. A wicked grin. Two sharp white fangs peeked out from their mouths.
"Ahhh—!"
A blood-curdling scream tore through the silence of the night.
"What are you—what are you doing?!"
The drunk sobered up instantly as the group of fang-bearing freaks closed in, grinning maniacally.
BANG!
A single gunshot echoed. A glowing bullet drilled straight into the forehead of one of the vampires, and he turned to ash instantly. The others froze in panic, spinning toward the direction the shot came from.
A man cloaked in black, nearly blending into the night, stood there with a strange-looking blue and white gun.
"Vampires—time to return your lives to God."
"RAAAH—!"
They shrieked and charged at him.
Erik didn't flinch. He pulled the trigger over and over, light bullets raining down.
But vampires were fast—stupid fast. They zipped through the bulletstorm like ghosts, claws and fangs headed straight for his throat.
Erik shifted his wrist—shing!—a red-and-white blade shot out of the gun.
He swung it hard.
What followed was a one-sided slaughter.
Moments later, the fight was over. Erik stood at the edge of the alley, glancing back at the passed-out drunk, who had fainted from shock. Maybe he wasn't a good guy. Hell, maybe he was a criminal. But—
Erik flicked his wrist, retracted the blade, and holstered the weapon.
Still... he was human. If he was guilty, the law would judge him. Erik's job was to keep the monsters from getting to him before that could happen.
Back on the rooftop, Erik scanned for more vampires.
Lately, he noticed vampires were way more cautious than before. The only ones popping up were weaklings like those tonight—newly turned punks, basically cannon fodder.
Whew—
A cold wind blew past. Erik let out a long breath. Fourteen days had gone by. He'd gotten the hang of using the Ixa Holy Blade. Although honestly, he preferred to call it the "Cross Gunblade." It just sounded better.
"Tomorrow's day fifteen. Ixa's upgrade should be almost done."
He clenched his fists. No major vampires had shown up yet, but he could feel it—something big was coming.
Beep beep beep~!
His wristband lit up—it was a call.
"Hello? Erik speaking... Stark? What's up?"
A projection of Tony Stark popped up from the wristband.
"Hey. JARVIS found a weird vampire base. I couldn't reach Dan, so I'm coming to you first."
"A base?"
Erik frowned.
"Send me the location. I'll check it out."
Stark nodded and sent it over.
Erik checked the map. The place wasn't exactly close, but not too far either.
"A vampire base, huh? Let's see what they're up to."
"I don't think you should go charging in. Ixa's still upgrading. If a Fangire shows up, you're screwed."
"I'll be careful."
Erik ended the call and leapt off the building, vanishing into the city.
Stark stared at the closed call screen and shrugged.
"This guy... such a pain in the ass."
Then he turned to a 3D model beside him and smirked.
"Almost there... Dan, you're not the only genius around."
4 AM. A few hours before sunrise. Erik wasn't too worried. No matter how many vampires were in that base, they couldn't handle sunlight.
The closer it got to dawn, the darker it seemed. Maybe it was just his imagination—or maybe it was the lack of neon lights—but the vampire base was way out in some abandoned chemical plant outside the city.
Erik moved stealthily, his elite spy skills fully in play.
From the shadows, he observed the guards. He sniffed the air.
"Hah, just as I thought. The whole damn place is packed with vampires. Wonder if there's a Fangire running the show."
He crept past the guards and slipped deeper inside.
Down... and down... and down again. The real heart of the factory was underground.
Basement Level 5. A bunch of vampires in lab coats were working on something. Inside a giant glass tank filled with green liquid, some kind of creature floated.
"What the hell are these bastards up to?"
Erik snapped a few photos with his wrist device to take back for Dan to analyze.
One of the vampire scientists suddenly looked up—right at Erik's hiding spot.
The guy smiled creepily.
"Since you're already here, why not come down and chat, Blade?"
As he spoke, his body turned into shimmering, glass-like material. The next second—crash!—he shattered, and in his place stood a green, scaly monster with a massive mouth.
BOOM!
A sonic blast exploded right next to Erik, sending him flying.
Without hesitation, Erik whipped out his Cross Gunblade, popped the blade, and slashed at the creature.
"It's the Blade! Alert! Alert!"
Alarms blared. Every vampire in the base started rushing toward the underground lab.
"....."