Just as the vampire squad also set their sights on Michael, Raze had already entered the London branch of the Assassin Brotherhood.
He passed through the administrative corridor and arrived at the service desk.
Rena, the front desk receptionist of the Brotherhood, smiled politely at the burly Black man approaching her and said:
"Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?"
Raze looked at the receptionist and said:
"I have some intel I want to sell, in exchange for some gold coins."
Rena picked up the phone on the counter and dialed:
"Someone here wants to sell intel. Room 3 for reception."
"Understood."
She put down the phone and said:
"Sir, the Intelligence Room is on Basement Level 2, Room 3. Someone will receive you there to appraise the intel."
"Our staff will evaluate its value."
Raze nodded and headed downstairs.
As he passed through the bounty hall, Raze saw several assassins browsing the mission board. Though the Continental Hotel had become the Assassin Brotherhood, it was no less popular.
Thanks to the wax bath and safe zones, the crowd had grown even larger. Not only was the underground world involved, but now some thrill-seeking rich people were also paying big money to buy coins just to gain treatment access.
There were even rumors spreading that the wax bath could regulate the body, heal hidden injuries, and restore damaged cells—prompting even more wealthy elites to give it a try.
Raze arrived at Basement Level 2 and walked straight into Room 3.
The room was minimalist—off-white walls, a table, and two chairs.
Inside, a man dressed like an office worker sat at the table, with a voice recorder and a notebook in front of him.
"Sir, I'll be handling your intel. What information do you wish to sell?"
Raze sat down, looked the man in the eye, and said:
"The intel I'm selling this time isn't simple, and I guarantee its authenticity. Try not to be too shocked."
The agent smiled professionally and replied:
"Whether it's a chainsaw psycho, an evil trafficking syndicate, or an organ-harvesting gang, we've heard it all."
"Of course, I hope it's something big—we've been a little too quiet around here."
Raze smirked and said:
"Trust me, it's big—and beyond your imagination."
Under the agent's expectant gaze, Raze revealed his intel:
"I've discovered signs of vampire activity."
"They've even infiltrated high-level British society and created a whole bunch of half-ghoul hybrids."
"They torture life for pleasure, kill for sport, and raise humans as blood slaves."
Hearing this, the agent paused mid-note-taking, then looked up:
"Are you sure this intel is real?"
"If vampires truly exist and operate as you say, this information might be more valuable than you realize."
At the same time, he silently thought to himself: Is this guy high or drunk?
Raze answered firmly:
"I stand by everything I said. And I have proof."
He pulled out several photos.
"These people are vampires. Easy to verify."
"They never appear during the day, and if you check them with a Power Level Detector, you'll immediately spot abnormalities."
"If supers exist already, why can't vampires? Their legends are more plentiful than any other."
The agent was surprised. Could this all be true?
He looked at the photos—humans, no wings or monstrous features like in cartoons. But one man's elongated fangs and strange pupils stood out.
The people in the photos? Members of Soren's squad.
"We'll accept your intel."
"This involves supernatural beings. Valued at 30 gold coins."
"We'll give you 10 upfront. We'll verify the rest. If everything checks out, come back in three days to collect the other 20."
"If the intel turns out false, we'll reclaim the 10 coins."
Raze grinned at the stack of coins on the table.
"Then I'll see you in three days. I promise—once you investigate, you'll be stunned."
After he left with the coins, the agent immediately filed a report and forwarded it to the relevant members of the Assassin's League responsible for the London Brotherhood branch.
…
Elsewhere.
Still shaken, Michael had just returned home when the phone rang. Before he could answer, a message started playing.
"Michael, it's Adam."
"The police are looking for you. They think you were involved in a shooting incident. I told them that's impossible."
"But they're still searching. They're probably heading to your place right now."
Michael sighed in relief—just his colleague checking in.
But downstairs, Soren's squad had already arrived at his building. Moments later, they knocked on his door.
Assuming it was the police, Michael opened up without hesitation.
But the moment he did, a hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
Soren stared at Michael and demanded:
"Why are those filthy werewolves after you?"
Michael, gasping for air, couldn't speak.
Suddenly, the ceiling cracked and began to collapse. A bestial howl echoed through the apartment.
Soren glanced up—clearly, the werewolves had arrived.
The rest of the squad didn't hesitate. They drew their weapons and fired toward the ceiling.
"Dada-da-da-da!"
Soren hurled Michael back into the apartment and drew his own weapons, ready to fight.
Michael tumbled into the living room, dazed. With the doorway blocked, he dashed into the bathroom to hide.
Suddenly, the hallway windows shattered. Four werewolves climbed in.
Rather than panic, Soren grinned with excitement:
"Looks like I was right—this guy really is your target."
Soren's team opened fire without hesitation. Their custom weapons fired silver bullets, rendering the werewolves' healing abilities useless.
"Biu-biu-biu!"
Each member dual-wielded pistols, unleashing a hail of bullets.
…
(End of Chapter)
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