Unfortunately, life is rarely perfect, and there was one particular grievance that left him dissatisfied: his hair follicles had completely surrendered, leaving behind a scalp as shiny as a polished mirror.
Nick Fury squeezed a dollop of hair growth serum into his palm, intending to make one last, desperate attempt. This was the latest formula developed by S.H.I.E.L.D. at an exorbitant cost, containing various precious medicinal herbs imported from an ancient Eastern country.
It was said that many of those herbs were sold as fakes in their own country while the genuine goods were all exported. Fury felt this statement was highly suspicious; it was likely just the latest rhetoric his subordinates used to swindle him for more funding.
Because it contained Shinan flower essence, the serum's scent was rather unpleasant. Just as Fury was about to apply it to his scalp, he heard a knock at the office door. The keen observation skills of a Level 10 agent allowed him to memorize most people's knocking habits; he determined that the person outside was likely the Level 7 agent, Natasha.
His judgment was correct; the monitor on his desk showed Natasha in the middle of knocking.
Fury hid his hands under the desk and straightened his posture behind the workspace. "Come in."
Natasha, a sexy elite agent clad in a tight uniform, pushed the door open and entered. Her sharp intuition as a Level 7 agent immediately caught the unusual scent in the air. Maintaining a calm exterior, she took a seat and immediately crossed her arms, expressing a posture that refused any physical 'engagement.'
Fury knew Natasha had misunderstood as soon as he saw her reaction. He quickly extended his left hand to draw a file from the desk and slid it toward her. "I called you back for official business. You should be familiar with Hell's Kitchen in Manhattan, right? The blood banks established by those vampires have shown some anomalies lately. I need you to go undercover, investigate, and gather their latest movements."
Natasha took the file and flipped through it repeatedly. After a moment, she looked up, speechless. "You called me back from South America just to handle a trivial matter like this?"
Nick Fury's dark complexion hid his expression as he said in a heavy tone, "There are few people I can trust, and you are the most suitable one to deal with those energetic vampires. My intuition tells me that the changes happening there recently are not simple. This concerns national security and world peace; I can only entrust this to you."
National security, world peace—such grand and righteous terms. Yet, Natasha was susceptible to this kind of talk. Perhaps she knew Fury was just using these words to manipulate her and was simply playing along.
Natasha Romanoff was born in 1984 in Stalingrad, former Soviet Union. Selected by the agent training organization 'Red Room' from a young age, she was forged into an elite spy through brutal training. She also underwent biochemical modification, receiving a low-spec version of the Super Soldier Serum, which greatly delayed her aging and enhanced her physical fitness across the board so she could carry out missions worldwide.
After the fall, Natasha harbored a deep hatred for her former motherland, believing she had committed numerous crimes by assisting a tyrant. Thus, she chose to embrace freedom and democracy, intending to spend the rest of her life atoning for the blood on her hands.
After a moment of silence, Natasha tucked the file away and stood up, showcasing her curvaceous figure. "I'll take this mission."
Nick Fury let out a sigh of relief. He truly didn't have many capable people under his command. Sending ordinary agents would just be providing snacks for those vampires; only someone special like Natasha could hold her own.
After Natasha left, Nick Fury smeared the hair growth serum onto his scalp. As he rubbed it in evenly, he pondered his future plans.
Faced with an increasingly bizarre situation, ordinary agents were becoming less effective. He intended to form a rapid response team composed mainly of individuals with special abilities to serve as his trump card against various potential threats.
"By the way, Director, about the..." Natasha suddenly pushed the door back open, only to see Fury rubbing that substance on his scalp. Her emotional control nearly broke; she muttered an apology and quickly retreated, closing the door behind her.
Fury: "..."
Once she was gone, Natasha pursed her lips and whispered to herself, "Can that stuff really grow hair? I've only heard of people smearing it on their faces for beauty treatments."
That evening, Natasha changed her outfit and took a public bus to the streets of Hell's Kitchen.
Hell's Kitchen was exceptionally peaceful today. On her way to the vampire bar, she only encountered three groups of low-level thugs trying to harass her—it was almost unbelievable.
The vampire bars usually operated openly. Their 'feasts' were major events that required long preparation and were held only once in a while. Normally, these places were just ordinary bars, gathering hippies, gang members, and junkies.
Natasha's investigation method was simple: apply for a job as a waitress to infiltrate the interior. There were quite a few girls like her applying for temporary work, many of whom were college students looking to earn some extra money after class.
The cost of university in America was quite high, so working through school was common. Compared to the boys, pretty girls could make money faster and more easily. Bar waitresses were high-income earners, often making a significant amount in tips in a single night. Occasionally, if they met a guest they liked, they didn't mind a 'deep exchange' to earn a bit of fast cash.
Of course, the risk of contracting a disease was also quite high.
The bar manager naturally wouldn't refuse high-quality talent like Natasha and quickly ushered her to the back to prepare.
Successfully sneaking into the back of the bar, Natasha hid the bunny girl uniform in a corner. She shed her oversized trench coat, revealing her skin-tight, sexy black agent uniform.
Like a nimble rabbit, Natasha slipped into the ventilation ducts in a few quick movements, vanishing from the dressing room.
Even if the manager noticed she was gone, he would only assume the beauty couldn't handle the pressure and had chickened out. Such occurrences were normal at a bar.
Based on the bar blueprints from the intelligence, Natasha crawled stealthily through the ventilation ducts for half an hour before reaching the blood bank on the other side.
Landing silently and hiding in a corner, Natasha took out a specialized spray and gave herself another coating to eliminate any human scent.
"The security awareness here isn't high. Good." Natasha observed the patrol patterns for a while and soon found a gap in the shifts. Utilizing the timing between two patrol teams, she dashed forward, reaching the main collection hall in the core area.
Natasha had already mentally prepared herself for the sight of the collection hall. S.H.I.E.L.D. had records of many vampire activities, some even in video format. The transparent bags hanging in the air were horrifying to see; even through a screen, it had made Natasha feel nauseous.
However, the scene before her was completely beyond her expectations. The imagined slaughterhouse was nowhere to be found. Instead, there were rows of hospital beds. People who appeared to be vampires were wearing white lab coats and conducting rounds, checking the recovery status of the skeletal humans on the beds.
"How is this possible?" Natasha was dumbfounded. Had the vampires collectively changed their nature?
"It's quite magical, isn't it?" An unfamiliar male voice sounded from behind her. Natasha shuddered; as a Level 7 agent, she hadn't sensed anyone approaching at all.
Natasha spun around violently, thrusting the dagger in her hand behind her.
She hit nothing but air!
Looking closely, she saw an Asian youth wearing a bathrobe, standing three meters away with a grin on his face, as if he hadn't moved an inch.
But the voice just now had clearly sounded right behind her head; the air from his speech had even brushed against her ear.
The situation was extremely eerie. Natasha couldn't gauge the other's combat power, but since he didn't seem to have any immediate violent intent, she took the opportunity to stow her dagger. She straightened her chest to display her prideful curves and subtly pulled the zipper of her uniform down a bit further, revealing the pale ivory of her décolletage.
Using seduction was a common tactic for female agents. Natasha had used this move countless times on past missions. With her beauty as an advantage, this technique was virtually invincible.
Those stinking men loved to conquer a rose with thorns. Natasha utilized this trait to extract a great deal of information.
"Are you the supervisor here?" Natasha licked her red lips, her eyes radiating charm. Though her stance barely changed, she transformed from a poised tigress into a seductive vixen.
However, Makiya had already entered 'Saint Mode.' This mode was second only to the legendary state of sudden enlightenment. In this state, even the most beautiful woman was nothing more than a skeleton under the skin. He was unswayed by external pleasures or personal sorrows. Countless Grand Daos flashed through his mind, and his eyes became deep and serene like an abyss, sparkling with the light of wisdom that perceived everything. It was as if the world's disturbances and noise could no longer stir a single ripple in his gaze.
"I suppose so." Makiya ignored Natasha's posturing and leaned against the corridor railing, looking down at the busy vampires below.
Natasha's expression soured. More than having her location discovered, having her charm ignored made her feel even worse. Women were strange creatures like that, but Natasha was professionally trained. She quickly suppressed her petty annoyance and moved closer to Makiya to probe for info. "Then, Mr. Supervisor, what exactly are they doing?"
"Isn't it obvious? Saving people." Makiya glanced at Natasha, his eyes seemingly carrying a hint of disdain, as if to say, 'How can you not see something so clear?'
"..." Natasha forced a smile. "But aren't you the Saint Race? I am a worshipper of your race. Aren't these humans supposed to be... food for the Lords?"
Makiya gave a meaningful smile. "That was the case before, but not now. The vampires here won't be drinking blood much longer."
"Not drinking blood?" Natasha's eyes widened. "Why?"
Vampires not drinking blood? That was as absurd as a dog giving up on bones, a capitalist refusing to exploit workers, or a landlord giving up on grinding their servants into the dirt.
It was something etched into their genes; it was fundamentally impossible to change!
"Well, it's mostly my fault!" Makiya said with a face full of regret. "A few days ago, I thought I should follow the modern trends, so I found a 'diversity speaker' to give them a lecture, encouraging them to go vegetarian..."
As he spoke, Makiya shrugged. "And then they were moved by the passionate speech. So, strictly speaking, they haven't stopped 'consuming'—they've just decided to stick to 'vegetables.' They're currently clamoring to bring in 'vegetables' from various hospitals."
Natasha: "..."
Her beautiful face quickly turned solemn. The man was clearly toying with her. This nonchalant attitude made her heart sink continuously.
That Black Braised Egg really screwed me over. There wasn't a single word about this man in the intel!