S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.
Coulson was standing in front of Director Fury, delivering his report.
"Demons that resemble humans, huh…" Fury muttered after hearing everything. "No wonder we couldn't find a single lead—not us, not the police, not even the FBI. We've been looking in the wrong direction from the start."
"On my way back, I checked with the archives," Coulson added. "All the killings took place at night. That matches what Lucian said about demons fearing sunlight."
Fury's eyes narrowed. His voice deepened. "That alone isn't enough to verify his intel. Pull all nearby surveillance footage from each crime scene. Look for anyone suspicious. We'll investigate from there."
"I've already had the archives start digging," Coulson replied.
After a pause, he hesitated slightly. "If Lucian's intel turns out to be accurate… how do we deal with these demons?"
Super soldiers were one thing. S.H.I.E.L.D. had enough black-tech weaponry to handle them, unless they were the particularly strong kind.
But based on what Lucian described—beings with far superior physical strength, immortality, and strange abilities—that was another matter entirely.
This wasn't a fight you could win by conventional means.
Fury fell silent, considering.
Eventually, he said, "First, we find one. I'll arrange for a demon-hunting specialist to assist when that time comes. Also… if demons fear sunlight, we can try ultraviolet spotlights. See if that works."
"Understood."
Coulson nodded and left the office.
Fury, however, remained still—his brows furrowed in thought.
If Lucian's information was accurate… how did he know about these beings in the first place?
And how did he already possess weapons capable of killing them?
And that thing he said about me misappropriating S.H.I.E.L.D. funds… was he probing for leverage? Or did he really know something?
If he did know something… what kind of information could threaten the existence of S.H.I.E.L.D. itself?
What should have been just another strange supernatural case now carried world-shaking implications.
"…This needs to be investigated thoroughly."
Fury's eyes sharpened. He picked up his phone and dialed a secure number.
"Lord Lucian!"
The speaker was a young man with silver-gray hair, a gaunt face, and a delicate demeanor. His tone was deferential.
This was Otto Suwen, the doll Lucian had just summoned.
"Otto, you'll stay with me from now on as my assistant. You'll handle everything at the convenience store. I'll let you know if I need you for anything else."
"Understood, my lord. I will do my best."
Lucian gave a nod, satisfied.
Otto wasn't suited for causing chaos outside, so Lucian decided to keep him close as a helper.
He had Muzan and the Twelve Kizuki gathering Wish Points out in the field anyway—no need to risk Otto.
"Then I'll leave this place to you. I'm heading out."
"Leave it to me, sir!"
Otto accepted the assignment with pride and confidence.
Greenwich Village, Manhattan.
A quiet, affluent neighborhood. Removed from the city noise, yet only twenty minutes from the bustling heart of New York.
Green hills, lush trees—just being there brought a sense of peace.
But today, an uninvited guest had arrived.
He was Black, in his early thirties, with a close-cropped haircut and dark sunglasses.
He had a solid, muscular build, dressed in camo pants and a tactical vest. Two long swords were strapped across his back, and a heavy-caliber handgun was holstered at his thigh.
He was a child of curses, abandoned by the world, driven only by vengeance.
He had no name.
But the world called him—Blade.
"…This is the place."
Blade stood before a mansion, his eyes fixed on the front door.
He couldn't see inside—he didn't have X-ray vision.
But his sense of smell was superhuman. Especially when it came to blood.
And the scent here was thick. Suffocating.
This house smelled like a slaughterhouse—a slaughterhouse for humans.
"A blood feast again?"
A flash of cold light gleamed behind his sunglasses.
He was born with a mission—his mother had been bitten by a vampire while giving birth to him, and "died" during the process.
What she left behind was him—a half-human, half-vampire hybrid.
He had been born in hatred, and he lived for only one thing: to exterminate all vampires.
He'd killed more of them than he could count. He knew their traits, their habits, their weaknesses.
They craved blood. Hunted humans for fun.
But with humans now the dominant species, vampires had learned to keep a lower profile, operating mostly in the shadows.
Still, there were always those arrogant enough to break the rules.
They would spin some lie to lure large crowds into one place… and then hold a feast of blood.
Dozens died each time.
"I'll kill every last one of them."
Blade muttered under his breath. Then, with a powerful kick, he blew the front door open.
But what greeted him wasn't the blood-soaked hellscape he'd expected.
Instead… the entire entrance hall was shrouded in cobwebs.
A dense, thick webbing covered everything—like the lair of a spider.
"…What the hell?"
Blade's eyes narrowed.
Based on the signs, this place should have been painted in blood—a carnage site.
Why the webs?
Could it be… not vampires?
Despite their exaggerated portrayals in fiction, vampires weren't all that fantastical.
Sure, they had immortality and enhanced strength—but they didn't wield some kind of impossible blood magic.
Something that could coat an entire three-hundred-square-meter mansion in webbing?
That wasn't the work of a vampire.
And even if they could do it, they wouldn't.
It just didn't match their style.
"Who are you?"
A voice echoed from the upper floor.
Blade looked up.
A child stood on the second-floor balcony, peering down at him.
Blade didn't let his guard down for even a second.
In fact, his entire body tensed, every hair on end.
The child looked to be no more than ten. White hair. White robes. Crimson marks on his face.
On the surface, he even looked a bit cute.
But his eyes—those eyes were monstrous.
His irises had two rings: a white outer layer, and a blue inner one, with two black pupils floating within.
And the sclera… blood red.
Like flayed flesh—raw and terrifying.
But it wasn't just his appearance.
Blade's hyper-sharpened senses picked up the immense pressure radiating from this child.
A monstrous aura.
"I asked you a question!"
The child's voice rang out again, now tinged with annoyance.
"Breaking into someone's home without a reason that satisfies me… you'll stay here. As food."
"…You really are a monster."
Blade inhaled sharply—and then in one swift motion, drew both pistols and opened fire.
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