Chapter 88 Carly
The heavy metal gates of the testing ground slowly closed. The thick alloy doors were half a meter thick, specially reinforced for testing high-power weapons.
Tony stood behind the console, his finger hovering over the activation button with a smug look on his face: "Watch closely. The final version of the magnetic field amplifier combines Cybertron's energy conduction algorithm with Stark Industries' resonance technology, increasing the power by at least three times. Don't get scared later."
Dr. Q pushed up his monocle and slowly retorted: "Theoretically, it's three times, but the actual test depends on the user's compatibility. Last time Ironhide tested the energy cannon, he almost short-circuited the amplifier from the vibrations."
"Hey, you old pedant, how is that any way to talk!" Ironhideglared and was about to retort when Logan raised a hand and held him down.
"Alright, argue after the test." Logan walked to the center of the testing ground, a silver-gray metal wristband fastened around his wrist, which was precisely the final version of the magnetic field amplifier.
Its design was sleek and lightweight, about the same size as the armor wristband of the mark x, and if you didn't look closely, you'd think it was an ordinary watch.
He flexed his fingers, took a deep breath, and slightly moved his mind.
"Hum—"
A light blue magnetic field instantly spread out from him as the center, several times richer than before, and you could even see the distorted ripples in the air with the naked eye.
Hundreds of alloy steel plates and abandoned parts scattered around the testing ground floated up neatly under the traction of the magnetic force, densely covering half the sky like a metal dark cloud.
"Holy crap..." Tony widened his eyes and leaned forward half a step, "So fierce?"
Logan didn't speak, merely lifting his finger slightly.
All the metal fragments accelerated at the same time, whistling toward the opposite test target.
"Bang bang bang bang—!!!"
The dense sound of collisions merged into one, with sparks flying everywhere. The special alloy target surface, several meters thick, was instantly beaten into a sieve, densely packed with holes. The edges continued to twist and deform under the tearing force of the magnetism, and within a few seconds, it completely collapsed, turning into a pile of twisted scrap metal.
The rock walls of the testing ground shook three times along with it, and dust rustled down from overhead.
"Damn!" Tony cursed, but his eyes were frighteningly bright. "This power... is it too strong?"
Ironhide was also dumbfounded, forgetting to put down his main cannon, and finally squeezed out a sentence: "...Even fiercer than a salvo from my main cannon."
Logan withdrew the magnetic force, flexed his wrist, and felt at ease, not even using thirty percent of his strength.
He raised an eyebrow and thought to himself: This amplifier really has something to it.
With this kind of power, when the Chitauri come, he can take as many as come, twist them all into scrap metal, and pile them up on the streets of New York, maybe even sell them as scrap to recoup some losses.
"How is it? Impressive right!" Tony leaned closer, patting the amplifier smugly. "Only I could come up with this kind of thing. If it were that bunch under Fury's command, they might not even touch the threshold after studying it for ten years."
"Yes, yes, yes, you're the most amazing." Logan smiled and popped his balloon, "I don't know who blew up the amplifier during debugging last month, getting black ash all over their face, and it was me who dragged them off to wash up."
"That was an accident! An accident, understand!" Tonyinstantly bristled. "How can scientific research have no failures!"
As the two of them were bickering, Ratchet's voice came from the doorway. The old man looked at the collapsed target surface and the mess all over the ground, his mustache trembling with anger: "You demolished the testing ground again! The rock wall that was just repaired last week! Ironhide! Is it you following along and making a fuss again!"
Ironhide instantly straightened his back and pointed at Logan: "He did it! It has nothing to do with me!"
"Hey! You old fellow, you sure are quick to shift the blame." Logan cursed with a smile.
The testing ground immediately descended into chaos again.
While the Base was bustling with tests, external speculations never stopped.
Ever since the blurry footage of the Egypt battlefield was leaked, the saying that "Earth has friendly alien robots helping out" spread more and more mysteriously.
Related topics on Astral changed batch after batch. Netizens, acting like Sherlock Holmes, dug up a bunch of evidence:
"Think about it, The Fallen is so powerful. Could Loganalone plus the Military fight that fast? There must be helpers!"
"I was right at the Egypt scene. At that time, I saw several big trucks turn into robots out of thin air! The blue and red colored one was especially tall!"
"And also, also! Over at the abandoned factory in the suburbs of New York, there are often strange energy fluctuations, and satellites can't even capture images. There's definitely something wrong!"
"Tony Stark hasn't shown his face much lately. He must have gone to secretly study alien technology! Logan has such a good relationship with him, they're definitely in cahoots!"
With more people talking, more people staked out the place.
Downstairs of Stark Tower and at the entrance of Astral Technology Headquarters, a crowd surrounded the places every day.
There were media reporters carrying long guns and short cannons, staking out for a dozen hours just to take a photo of Logan or Tony.
There were spies from various countries dressed as passersby, carrying eavesdropping equipment and trying every possible way to sneak in.
There were also quite a few internet anchors holding Astral phones, live-streaming the stakeout every day with titles more exaggerated than the last: "Unveiling Wolverine's Alien Allies!"
"Seventh day of stakeout, taking you to see Stark's secrets!"
The most active among them was a hacker organization called Rising Tide, constantly preaching about the public's right to know, taking turns attacking the firewalls of Astral Technology and Stark Industries in an attempt to steal internal data to prove the existence of alien allies.
Unfortunately, they hadn't even broken through the first layer of defense.
When Tony had nothing to do, he would join forces with Dr. Q to give them a little surprise.
Either the computer would suddenly blue screen halfway through the attack, looping Tom and Jerry.
Or they would counter-trace and post all the browsing history from their computers onto the dark web, making Rising Tide lose all face while being completely helpless.
"With this kind of technology, you have the nerve to be a hacker?" Tony leaned back in his chair, looking at the defeated attack signal on the screen once again, and couldn't help mocking, "Right to know, aren't you afraid of bursting from knowing too much."
Dr. Q slowly optimized the firewall code: "Only slightly better than the technicians at Sector Seven."
While the outside world was buzzing with noise, inside Astral, people were so busy they were running off their feet.
The platform expanded too fast, overseas markets unfolded one after another, and the three lines of short videos, live streaming, and e-commerce exerted efforts simultaneously. Daily affairs piled up like a mountain, and they also had to balance the model updates of Astral phones.
No matter how capable Anna was, she was gradually beginning to feel stretched thin.
Today, she carried a stack of files into Logan's Villa study. Her silver hair was still meticulous, only carrying a hint of extremely faint fatigue in her eyes, and her tone remained very steady: "Mr. Logan, the cooperation plan for the European region has passed review, and the offline experience store in the East Asian region will open next month. In addition, the legal team has added twelve people, but still cannot keep up with the progress of complaints and contract reviews."
She paused and rarely took the initiative to propose: "Currently, the volume of affairs has exceeded my single-person processing range. I suggest hiring a president's assistant to assist in handling daily operations and docking work. I have already drafted the recruitment requirements, please take a look."
Logan was browsing Ares's secondary creation videos on Astral, and hearing this, he looked up and raised an eyebrow.
To be able to make Anna take the initiative to mention hiring people, it seemed she was really too busy to handle it.
This ace assistant born from the KGB had absurdly strong abilities, and previously one person could be used as a whole team. Now she was actually calling herself busy, which showed how exaggerated Astral's expansion speed was.
"Alright, just arrange it yourself." Logan casually flipped through the recruitment requirements, every single one precise, with nothing to change. "Salary and benefits should follow the highest standards, with ability taking priority."
"Okay." Anna nodded and turned to go out.
The recruitment process went very fast. Anna personally screened resumes and arranged interviews, with astonishingly high efficiency.
Three days later, the final re-examination list was placed on Logan's desk.
A total of three people, all top students from top universities, with resumes prettier than the last. Loganglanced over and stopped at the last resume.
Carly Whitley.
The girl in the photo was blonde with blue eyes, her features bright and magnificent, the spitting image of Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, practically carving the words 'I am the heroine of Transformers 3' onto her face.
Logan raised an eyebrow.
Well, another plot character came knocking.
He put down the resume and said to Anna outside: "Let this last one in."
"Okay."
Soon, a knock on the door sounded.
"Come in."
The girl pushed the door open and walked in, wearing a capable beige suit skirt, her figure upright, clutching a folder in her hand. She was a little nervous but not timid. When her gaze fell on Logan, it instantly lit up, and adoration almost overflowed from her eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Logan, I am Carly Whitley, applying for the position of president's assistant." Her voice was clear and bright, and her self-introduction was neat, "Dual degrees in business and mechanical engineering from MIT, with two years of tech company operations experience..."
Logan leaned against the back of the chair, spinning a pen with his fingertips, and smiled as he interrupted her: "Stop reciting your resume for now. I saw in your profile that you were right in New York during the Harlem Districtincident?"
Carly was stunned for a moment, then nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed, and she said a little embarrassedly: "Yes... At that time I was still in high school, hanging out with friends in the Harlem District, and happened to run into Abomination coming out to cause trouble. Everyone was running at the time, and I hid in an alley, seeing you bare-handed catch a smashed taxi and team up with Hulk to knock down Abomination."
Her eyes were sparkling, and her tone carried a hint of excitement: "Ever since then, I've admired you especially! Later, when you made Astral phones and short video platforms, I paid attention to all of it, knowing that not only can you fight, but you're also exceptionally good at doing business. So when I saw the recruitment information, I immediately submitted my resume. I'm so happy to be able to come for an interview!"
The girl's adoration was straightforward and passionate, without any concealment.
Logan was in a great mood and smiled: "Alright, good eye. Then tell me, if you were asked to interface with the overseas operations team, what's the first thing you would do?"
Carly composed herself and began to speak with a clear train of thought, from data review to localization adjustments, and then to channel integration. It was well-organized, with details thoroughly considered, and it was evident that she had done her homework.
Logan listened and nodded.
Distinctive looks, online capabilities, and a built-in plot buff—this assistant was definitely locked in.
"Very well, it's you." He put down the pen. "Salary will be calculated at the highest tier, with a one-month probation period. Later, I'll have Anna show you around the business; she focuses on strategy and core projects, while you are responsible for daily operations and docking. If there's anything you don't understand, ask her, or you can ask me."
"Really?!" Carly's eyes suddenly widened, and she was so pleasantly surprised she almost jumped up, nodding hastily. "Thank you, Mr. Logan! I will definitely work hard and never cause you trouble!"
"Don't be nervous." Logan smiled and pointed outside the door. "Go on, go report to Anna."
"Right!"
Carly hugged the folder and walked out with brisk footsteps. When going out, she almost bumped into the door frame, quickly stabilized her body, and stuck out her tongue, looking somewhat cute.
After she left, Anna pushed the door open and walked in, holding the onboarding approval form in her hand.
"The candidate has been decided?" Her tone was flat, but her eyes carried a hint of realization.
"Yeah, the girl is quite smart and her capability is sufficient." Logan nodded. "From now on, let her shoulder more of the daily affairs, so you can relax a bit too and not stay up until midnight every day."
The hand holding the pen paused for a moment, and Annalowered her eyelids and let out an "Mn."
"If there's nothing else, I'll head out first to show her around the various departments."
"Go ahead."
Watching the back of Anna closing the door, Logan smiled and shook his head.
Finally, he wouldn't have to have a headache facing reports every day.
He picked up his phone and scrolled twice through Astral. The homepage happened to push a video of 'Rising Tide organization threatening to definitely break Astral's firewall next week', and the comments underneath were all people watching the spectacle.
Logan let out a snicker and casually sent a message to Tony: "Rising Tide has made harsh threats again. Remember to prepare a little'surprise' for them next week."
Tony instantly replied with a smug meme: "Rest assured, it's already prepared. Guaranteed to make them unforgettable for a lifetime."
Chapter 89 Live Stream
The video of the Rising Tide organization talking tough hung on Astral for a full three days, and the bet in the comment section spanned dozens of layers, with half the people betting they couldn't last an hour, and the other half betting they couldn't last half an hour.
As a result, when the agreed-upon day of the general attack arrived, this bunch of people pulled out all the stops to violently attack the Astral firewall, and the beginning was indeed full of momentum, with data packets smashing over like raindrops, pulling off a fully fledged posture.
As a result, the moment they touched the first layer of defense, everyone's computers suffered a collective blue screen, the familiar Tom and Jerry opening theme song sounded right on time, and looping playback aside, their mice were also locked, forcing them to watch helplessly as Tom chased Jerry for a full forty minutes.
By the time they managed to force a restart, their IP addresses had been stripped to the bone by counter-tracking, and even the browsing history of secretly searching for 'Wolverine muscle photos' last week was packaged and hung in the dark web's popular section.
The whole internet laughed like crazy.
Skye was so angry she almost smashed her keyboard.
She squatted in the small cubicle of her rented apartment, looking at the glowing red screenshots of her browsing history on the dark web, her face turning flushed red.
As the top-tier technical member in Rising Tide, when had she ever suffered this kind of loss?
Time and time again, she was pressed to the ground and rubbed against it by Stark Industries, not even leaving her an ounce of face.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got; her fingertips tapped furiously on the screen, and she directly posted a long article on Astral, with the ID named Skye Rising Tide, and the verification column brightly stating core member of the Rising Tide organization.
The article was written with righteous indignation, and between the lines were full of accusations: "Stark Industries and Astral Technology monopolize alien technological achievements, suppressing dissidents with improper means. The so-called firewall is just cheating by relying on alien technology! The public has the right to know, and what we pursue is the truth, not this kind of low-class prank! Does Tony Stark think he can trample on other people's privacy at will just because he has money and technology?"
In the end, she even tagged Tony Stark and Logan Howlett, putting on a posture of demanding justice.
As soon as the post was published, it instantly surged onto the hot list.
Netizens were overjoyed, and the comment section was like the New Year:
"Laugh to death, if you can't beat them, you say they're cheating—the hacking circle's traditional skill of being unable to lose, right?"
"No, how many times has your Rising Tide lost? Last time you said you would definitely break the firewall, but ended up watching Tom and Jerry collectively; the time before last you said you were going to expose alien secrets, but ended up having your browsing history hung across the whole internet. What, are you preparing to contribute some new legendary scene this time?"
"Still the public's right to know—aren't you afraid of stuffing yourself to death knowing too much? The technology they researched and developed themselves, why should they show it to you?"
"I suggest the organization change its name to Ebbing Tide; it really can't rise anymore."
Tony was originally in the lab debugging the camera algorithm for the second-generation mobile phone with Dr. Q, and when he saw the push notification, he almost laughed out loud.
He casually reposted this long article, with concise and comprehensive accompanying text: "Little sister, if you can't afford to lose, go back and practice code for a couple more years. You can't even break the entry-level firewall that Dr. Q casually wrote, and you still have the nerve to cry cheat? Do you really think alien technology is Chinese cabbage that anyone can touch? Oh right, next time you search for photos of me, remember to turn on incognito browsing; hanging them out is quite embarrassing."
A single sentence delivered a precise critical strike.
Netizens dug along the clues, and sure enough, found traces of Skye secretly searching for Tony's armor design blueprints in that pile of browsing history on the dark web, instantly laughing even harder.
The two topics #Rising Tide Lost Again And Again And Again And Again# and #Skye Social Death Scene# both surged into the top three of the hot list, and the Rising Tide organization completely transformed from a mysterious hacker group into the laughingstock of the entire internet.
Skye looked at the comment section, her eye sockets turning red with anger, yet she had nothing to retort—her technology was inferior to others, and no matter how much she said, it was just sophistry.
She gritted her teeth, closed the post, her fingers gripping the keyboard until they turned white, holding a surge of energy in her heart—sooner or later, there would come a day when she would win back her face.
The hacker farce here had barely settled for half a day when another commotion broke out on the other side.
Steve Rogers was browsing Astral when he had nothing to do, and happened to stumble upon Tony's dynamic post roasting Skye.
He frowned and looked at it for a long time, feeling that Tony's words were too aggressive and that bullying a young girl was unreasonable.
He was an old acquaintance of Howard and had watched Tony grow up, always feeling that this kid's personality was too jumpy and needed someone to keep him in check.
So without thinking much, he left a message in the comment section: "Tony, when Howard taught you technology back then, it was in the hope that you would use it to do more meaningful things, not to bully young people. Don't disgrace his face."
Within two minutes of this message being posted, it directly blew up the pot.
Netizens were all dumbfounded.
What is the situation? Captain America personally stepped down to lecture Iron Man? What kind of century-defining legendary scene is this?
Tony was humming a song and tuning parameters when he saw himself tagged in the comment section. Clicking in and catching sight of Steve's message at a glance, he instantly blew up on the spot.
What does "don't disgrace his dad's face" mean? This old popsicle had just woken up and already dared to meddle in his affairs?
His fingers typed rapidly on the screen, and his counter-retort came out almost in seconds: "Old popsicle, stop trying to pressure me with my dad. When you and him were arguing until your faces were red in the military camp back then, I wasn't even born yet. Instead of having the idle time to manage whether I'm bullying people or not, you'd better practice more on catching aliens with your shield. Next time invaders come, don't just stand there shouting slogans and expecting me to cover your ass. Right, is the phone easy to use? Are you used to browsing Astral? Do you want me to set you up with a senior citizen mode?"
A single sentence combined rebukes and insults, choking Steve to the point of near suffocation.
Steve looked at the reply, his brows knitting even tighter. He just knew this kid didn't spare anyone with his mouth, having the exact same temper as his dad and being even more infuriating than Howard.
He wanted to reply a couple more things, but felt that bickering with a young person was unseemly. Holding it in for a long time, he only replied with "You...", typing and deleting the subsequent words, and finally simply throwing the phone aside, out of sight, out of mind.
Netizens were shipping them like crazy.
The topic #Captain America and Iron Man Mutual Rebuttal# soared to the top of the hot list at the speed of light, and the comment section built hundreds of thousands of floors:
"Hahahahaha, the senior citizen mode is killing me, Tonyreally has a knack for insulting people."
"Captain America: I'm educating a junior; Tony: You old popsicle know jack shit."
"Help, why is the bickering between these two so fun to ship! WWII old acquaintances x genius rich second-generation, the sense of destiny is maxed out!"
"Is anyone writing fanfic? I'll squat here first as a sign of respect!"
Even Logan couldn't stop laughing when he scrolled past it, casually leaving a sentence in Tony's comment section: "That's enough, don't piss the old Captain off into a health issue, or else he'll come looking for you with a shield for a one-on-one."
Tony replied in seconds: "One-on-one? Can he beat my mark x?"
He was so arrogant his tail was about to reach the sky.
Fussing aside, Astral's user growth didn't fall behind at all.
Right in the midst of this internet-wide commotion, the registered user count of the Astral platform quietly broke through the 100 million milestone.
The data jumped at midnight; Carly stared at the jumping numbers in the background, almost shouting out in excitement, and sent a message to Anna overnight.
Anna remained as calm as ever, only replying with "Understood", and immediately turned around to organize the complete data report, placing it on the desk in Logan's study.
The next day when Logan woke up and saw the report, he raised an eyebrow.
100 million users.
It was nearly half a year faster than he had anticipated.
"Not bad, the speed is fast enough." He bit into his sandwich, flipped through the data, and saw that daily active users had stabilized at over 45 million, the number of creators and streamers was still skyrocketing, and the mall's transaction volume was breaking records every single month.
Anna stood to the side, her tone steady: "Breaking 100 million users is an important milestone. The PR department has made several activity proposals; would you like to see if we should implement one? In addition, the pre-heating for the second-generation mobile phone can also be launched taking advantage of this milestone."
Logan thought for a moment and waved his hand: "No need to make it that complicated. I'll open a live stream, do some lucky draws, and liven things up. By the way, release the news about the second-generation mobile phone to whet their appetites."
"A live stream?" Anna was slightly stunned, then nodded, "Alright, I'll go arrange for the technical department and operations department to coordinate; you just need to set a time."
"Let's do it tonight." Logan wiped his hands, "Just stream casually, no need to make it too formal."
As soon as the news spread, the whole internet exploded.
Wolverine was going to live stream?
Ever since Astral went online, Logan had never formally opened a live stream, at most occasionally posting a couple of Ares's daily routines, and rarely even showing his face.
This time he was actually going to open a live stream to celebrate breaking 100 million users, and even distribute welfare?
The reservation count shot up frantically, breaking 8 million before the broadcast even started, crowding the server to the point of lagging for a moment, scaring the technical department into expanding capacity three times in advance.
At eight in the evening, the live stream started right on time.
The camera angle was very casual, showing just Logan's living room.
He was wearing a loose black hoodie, leaning on the sofa, while beside him Ares was lying down gnawing on beef jerky, its big head almost poking right into the camera lens.
"Hello, can you hear me?" Logan lifted his chin toward the camera, his tone as casual as chatting about household matters, "There's nothing prepared, just chatting casually with everyone for a couple of words to celebrate breaking 100 million users. Thanks for showing up, I'll draw ten people, 100,000 U.S. dollars each, just to liven things up."
As soon as his voice fell, the bullet screen comments directly flooded the screen:
"Holy crap! The Wolf King showed his face! What a good day today is!"
"100,000 U.S. dollars?! Boss is generous! Me me me me!"
"Ares! Quick look at Ares! It looks so handsome gnawing on a bone!"
"Wait, boss, is that painting behind you an authentic piece? Why does it look like Picasso's to me?"
Logan glanced at the bullet screen and smiled: "Painting? A friend gave it, left there to collect dust. Alright, let's not talk about other things, let's do the lucky draw. I'll let Areschoose; whoever its paw presses on will be the one."
As he spoke, he placed the tablet on the ground and opened the lucky draw interface.
Ares was quite cooperative, raising its paw and pressing it down on the screen with a pat, and the list of ten winners instantly popped out.
The netizens who won were so excited they frantically flooded the bullet screen, and those who didn't win also joined in the excitement. The live stream's popularity skyrocketed all the way, with the peak directly breaking 20 million online, lagging the server for another moment.
Carly was so busy in the backend that her feet barely touched the ground, shouting for the technical department to expand capacity while reporting to Anna: "Sister Anna, the online count is still rising, it has already broken 22 million!"
Anna nodded, her gaze falling on Logan in the screen, her fingertips tapping unconsciously on the tablet, the corners of her mouth curving up extremely faintly, so fast it seemed like an illusion.
After the lucky draw, the atmosphere in the live stream was quite hot. Logan casually rubbed Ares's head and continued along the topic: "Just giving out welfare isn't that interesting either, let's mention something by the way. The Astral second-generation mobile phone will be officially released next month."
The bullet screen paused for a second, then completely exploded.
"Holy crap! Second-generation mobile phone?! So fast?!"
"I just bought the first generation two months ago! And the second generation is already coming out?"
"What was upgraded? Quick tell us, quick tell us!"
"Is the price going up? If it goes up, I won't be able to afford it, boss!"
Logan looked at the bullet screen and said leisurely: "Not many upgrades, the screen is changed to more drop-resistant reinforced glass, the touch latency is squeezed down by another half, battery life is doubled, the camera is upgraded to a triple-lens setup, making both photos and videos clearer. The system is also smoother, with a few new features added. As for the price... same as the first-generation starting price, 599 U.S. dollars."
"Price unchanged?!"
"Boss, are you running a charity?! This configuration upgrade and you're actually not raising the price?"
"Holy crap, I just bought the first generation! What a loss, what a loss! No, I have to buy a second generation too!"
"When does pre-order start? I've already prepared my money!"
The bullet screen flooded like crazy, and the live stream's popularity climbed to yet another level. The topic #Astral Second-Generation Mobile Phone# instantly surged to first place on the hot list, even driving Astral's stock to rise by several points along with it.
Tony was also squatting in the live stream room, and seeing Logan release the news of the second generation, he immediately gifted the most expensive gift on the entire platform. A row of golden characters drifted across the bullet screen: "Tony Stark sent Starship × 10", followed by a bullet screen comment: "Stingy ghost, only upgrading this little bit of stuff, if it were me, I would have invented a foldable screen."
Logan looked at the bullet screen, rolled his eyes, and smiled into the camera: "Did you hear that, Mr. Stark thinks my technology is poor. How about this, next time let him live stream dismantling his armor, and show everyone what a foldable screen looks like?"
Netizens instantly started booing and egging it on, all flooding the screen with "Tony, live stream quickly!"
"Want to see the foldable screen!"
Tony rolled his eyes on the other end of the screen, but didn't refute. In his heart, he had already begun pondering about showing off his skills in the next live stream to properly suppress Logan's limelight.
The live stream had been broadcasting for nearly an hour, and Logan didn't pull any fancy tricks, just chatting and knocking about with netizens, answering a few questions about the platform and the mobile phone. Midway, Areseven stole the spotlight, resting its paws on his leg asking to be petted, melting a whole crowd of people with cuteness.
When ending the stream, the online count was still maintained at over 15 million.
Carly ran in holding the data report, her eyes frighteningly bright: "Mr. Logan! The live stream's total viewership has broken 100 million! The reservation volume for the second-generation mobile phone broke 3 million just ten minutes after opening! And it's still rising!"
Logan nodded, not too surprised.
After all, this belonged to an epoch-making dimensionality reduction strike.
Chapter 90 Reaper
In August 2011, San Francisco was soaked in a layer of sticky fog, feeling even colder after nightfall, while the neon signs in the alleys flickered on and off, casting an oily sheen on the puddles of the road.
Logan leaned against the brick wall at the mouth of the alley, twirling a silver coin with his fingertips, his gaze casually sweeping over the bar at the end of the alley hanging a private club sign.
This was his third time coming to San Francisco.
The first two times, he had plucked the Vampire forces here left and right. After that whole business with Deacon Frost, the remaining remnants cowered and scraped by for almost a year, finally managing to breed a bit of a scale again.
In his own words, it was "The leeks have been raised for over half a year, and it is finally time to harvest them."
His goal this time was very clear—accumulate points and pull all three items: Blood Manipulation, airflow control, and teleportation up to Alpha-level.
When fighting The Fallen before, he felt it was lacking a bit; the teleportation range was not large enough, airflow control could still be improved, and Blood Manipulationwas just starting out and hadn't been used much. Taking advantage of the fact that there were enough Vampires here, it was just right to make up for his shortcomings all at once.
"They're here."
The coin at Logan's fingertips paused as he raised his eyes to look at the entrance of the bar.
Two men wearing black leather jackets walked out with their arms around each other's shoulders, with pale complexions and dark blue eye sockets, deliberately avoiding the light of the street lamps as they walked, their fangs looming vaguely in the shadows.
Ordinary Vampires, Delta-class at best, twenty points each, better than nothing.
He followed silently as the wind in the alley whipped up some waste paper and spun it around.
Just as the two Vampires sensed something was wrong and were about to turn back, two flashes of silver swept across their throats.
The Adamantium Claws retracted and extended freely, so fast that their shadows were barely visible.
The two bodies collapsed softly, their energy factors harvested by the system before turning into flying ash.
'Detected enemy dropped x-factor, do you want to absorb it?'
Still chose no.
"Stingy." Logan clicked his tongue, shook off the non-existent dust on his hands, and said, "At this speed, we'll be grinding until the Year of the Monkey."
He had originally thought that raising them for a year would yield some tougher nuts, but it turned out to be a bunch of small fry, just like harvesting leeks, each crop more tender than the last.
As he was complaining, a sharp roar suddenly came from deep inside the alley, not like the low roar of an ordinary Vampire, but rather like the howl of some Beast.
Logan raised an eyebrow, lifted his foot and walked over.
At the end of the alley squatted a figure, with its back to him, shoulders shaking as if gnawing on something.
Hearing footsteps, that thing suddenly turned its head around.
Even with Logan having seen all sorts of bizarre Mutants and weirdos, he couldn't help but pause for a moment.
Call this thing a Vampire, but it looked much more capable of being a monster—its entire face split open from the jawline all the way to the roots of its ears, its mouth filled with dense sharp teeth, its tongue split like a snake's fork, its skin a morbid grayish-cyan, and its nails long and sharp, shining with a dark purple toxic light.
Its eyes were scarlet, staring at Logan while emitting a raspy wheeze, and saliva dripped down its chin onto the ground, corroding small pits.
Logan's eyes lit up.
Reapers?
He instantly remembered the plot in Blade II—the VampireCouncil messed up human experiments and created a mutated species that fed on ordinary Vampires, with extremely strong infectivity, turning ordinary Vampires who were bitten into Reapers as well.
"Good stuff." Logan smiled, not only not scared, but instead taking half a step forward, "It looks no lower than Gamma-class, one counts as two ordinary ones, and it even comes with infectivity. Isn't this more cost-effective than raising ordinary Vampires?"
Where it was a catastrophe for others, to him it was a mobile point package.
It would be best if more came, best if all the Vampires in San Francisco were infected, and then he could wipe them out in one go, directly grinding a pot full of gold.
That Reaper couldn't understand what he was saying, roaring as it lunged forward, so fast it left a lingering afterimage, its sharp claws heading straight for his throat.
Logan didn't dodge or evade, raising his hand with a claw strike.
"Screech—"
The Adamantium Claws accurately slashed open the Reaper's chest, splashing pitch-black blood all over the ground.
If it were an ordinary Vampire, this blow should have turned it into flying ash, but this thing only let out a miserable scream and, instead of dying, became even fiercer, its split wide mouth viciously biting towards his wrist.
"Pretty interesting, quite durable indeed."
Logan moved his feet slightly, and his figure instantly disappeared in place.
The Reaper lunged into empty air, and before it could react, a huge force came from its back.
Logan teleported behind it, pressed down on its head with one hand, and exerted a slight force, the strength drilling in along the skull.
"Bang—"
After a muffled sound, the Reaper's head was directly crushed into pieces, collapsing limply as it quickly turned into flying ash and dissipated.
Points increased by 50.
"50 points, not bad." Logan clapped his hands, "Solid points."
He estimated that since the first one had appeared, there would definitely be a second and third.
Those old fellows in the Vampire Council really loved to mess around with experiments when they had nothing to do, messing around and ending up with a backlash of a thing.
Exactly, to his benefit.
Over the next half month, the underground circle of San Francisco was in complete chaos.
First, ordinary Vampires disappeared in patches, neither seen alive nor dead, as if they had evaporated from the world.
Immediately after, those monsters whose mouths split to the roots of their ears appeared, biting people on sight, whether ordinary humans or Vampires, sucking whenever they caught them. The Vampires who were bitten would turn into the same monsters within a couple of days, and the infection speed was terrifyingly fast.
The low-level Vampires were so scared that they hid in their nests every day and dared not go out, fearing that if they weren't careful, their throats would be cut, or they would turn into those neither-human-nor-ghost things.
No one knew that both things were done by the same person.
Logan curled up in the hotel during the day browsing the Astral Realm, watching Tony and Captain America bicker in the comment section, watching Ares's derivative creation videos, and occasionally sending a message to Anna to handle company business.
As soon as it got dark, he went out to 'work', specifically picking Vampire nests to burrow into. When he met ordinary Vampires, he harvested them in passing; when he met Reapers, he fought them a couple more times, just taking it as exercising his muscles.
Reapers were indeed growing in numbers, mostly concentrated in the abandoned factories and underground tunnels of the old city district, like a den, gathering a dozen or so at a time.
Every time Logan went over, it was like entering a point warehouse; going in once and coming out, the points soared rustlingly upward.
By the tenth day of fighting, the upgrade progress bars of the three abilities were full.
'Consumed 1200 points, [Teleportation] upgraded to Alpha-level'
'Consumed 1200 points, [Airflow Control] upgraded to Alpha-level'
'Consumed 2250 points, [Blood Manipulation] upgraded to Alpha-level'
The moment three prompt sounds rang out one after another, Logan could clearly feel the changes in his body.
The teleportation range directly expanded by nearly three times; let alone cross-city, cross-country was effortless, and the spatial stability was also much stronger. Even if he jumped with a big guy like Ironhide, it wouldn't shake.
Airflow control was now able to create large-scale tornadoes, as if turning him into a walking humanoid natural disaster.
Blood Manipulation was even more reborn; previously he could barely control his own blood, but now, across a dozen meters, he could make the opponent's blood flow backward or even directly solidify their blood vessels.
"Comfortable." Logan moved his fingers, and a wisp of grayish-white airflow sprang up on his index finger, rotating at high speed, bringing a splitting pain to his skin, "Now there are finally no obvious shortcomings."
Alpha-level teleportation, Airflow Control, and magnetism, plus the Omega-level potential self-healing and the body strengthened by Crimson Power, he alone could directly wipe out the Chitauri army.
He was having a blast grinding over here, but the VampireCouncil couldn't sit still anymore.
San Francisco was an important stronghold for North American Vampires. In half a month, seventy percent of their surface forces were lost, and a Reaper virus popped up. If this continued, all the Vampires on the West Coast would be done for.
In the council hall, candlelight flickered, and Eli Damaskinos sitting in the main seat had a complexion so gloomy water could drip out of it.
He was the leader of the Vampire Council, having lived for hundreds of years, and had never encountered such a bizarre matter.
On one side, a You-Know-Who was frantically massacring Vampires, and on the other side, the mutated virus they had made themselves collapsed on both fronts. If the reason couldn't be found out again, the council would lose all face.
"Nyssa." He said in a deep voice, his gaze looking at his daughter standing below, "Take the Bloodpack squad to San Francisco. Find out two things: first, who is that human massacring their kind; second, where is the source of the Reaper virus. When necessary, you can temporarily cooperate with Blade."
The woman standing at the very front of the queue nodded slightly.
She wore a black tight-fitting combat uniform, her long hair tied into a high ponytail, with a cold and gorgeous face and sharp eyes. She was precisely Nyssa Damaskinos, the Captain of the Bloodpack squad.
"Understood, Father." Her voice was cold and clear, without extra emotion, "Reinhardt, Asad, Snowman, Kuba, Priest, Verlaine, Lightaxe, follow me."
The seven people behind her responded in unison, all well-equipped and fierce-looking.
Reinhardt stepped forward half a step, his tone carrying hostility: "Leader, is there any need to investigate? It must be Blade who did it! Apart from him, which hunter has this ability? The last time with Deacon, he was the one who messed things up, and this time it must be him too!"
He had an old grudge with Blade, and gnashed his teeth whenever the name was mentioned.
"Whether it's him or not, we'll only know after investigating." Nyssa glanced at him indifferently, "Before there is evidence, don't jump to conclusions. Let's go."
The group moved briskly and quickly disappeared at the hall entrance.
Eli looked at their backs, his fingertips tapping gently on the armrest, his brows tightly locked.
He had a premonition that this matter might not be that simple.
On the other side, in the abandoned warehouse of the old shipyard in San Francisco.
Blade sat in front of the workbench, wiping a silver longsword in his hand with very slow movements.
Whistler leaned against the shelf next to him, pressing silver bullets into the magazine, cursing in his mouth: "Those scum of the council, not looking early or late, but popping up precisely at this time. That Reaper thing is obviously them messing up their own experiments, and they still have the nerve to come ask us?"
Ever since the Deacon incident, after Blade personally finished off his mother who had turned into a Vampire, he had been holed up in this old shipyard and hadn't been out much for activities.
After Whistler was rescued, he recuperated from his injuries for over half a year and finally recovered seventy to eighty percent.
The two of them originally planned to lie low for a while, but over the past half month, the rumors outside became increasingly wrong.
First Vampires disappeared in patches, and then Reapers appeared.
Blade didn't even need to think to know who did it.
Apart from Logan Howlett, no one had such ruthless methods, and no one had such strong strength.
Ordinary Vampires were one thing, but even being able to clear out Reapers in batches—only that man could pull it off.
"The commotion this time has been a bit too big." Blade stopped his movements, his voice low, "The council will definitely send people over."
"Let them come if they want, can they eat us?" Whistlerclicked his tongue with disdain, "At worst, we'll have a fight with them anyway. Those old fellows in the council, none of them are good."
As soon as his voice fell, the iron door of the warehouse was kicked open with a "clank" sound.
Eight people filed in one after another, each holding weapons with guarded expressions. The woman at the lead had a cold face, her gaze sweeping across the warehouse and finally landing on Blade.
"Blade, long time no see." Nyssa spoke, her tone calm, "I am Nyssa Damaskinos, sent by the council. There is something I want to ask you—recently a large number of our kind have been killed in San Francisco, was it you who did it?"
Reinhardt stepped forward a step, pointing his gun at Blade, full of hostility: "What nonsense are you talking to him for! It must be him who did it! Who else could it be apart from him! Last time with Deacon, he was the one who ruined our good deeds!"
"Put down your gun." Blade raised his eyes to look at him, his gaze as cold as ice, "Otherwise, you won't be walking out of this door today."
"Who are you trying to scare!" Reinhardt instantly blew his top, his fingers hooked onto the trigger, "I've wanted to beat you up for a long time!"
Both sides were at daggers drawn, and the atmosphere froze instantly.
Whistler immediately picked up the shotgun beside him, cursing: "Want to fight, huh? I'll keep you company to the end!"
"All of you, stop."
Nyssa frowned slightly, raising her hand to hold down Reinhardt's arm, her strength not great, but carrying unquestionable majesty.
She looked at Blade, her tone softening a bit: "Reinhardt is impulsive, I apologize for him. We are not here to fight. The council just wants to know the truth."
Blade withdrew his gaze, continuing to wipe the knife in his hand, his tone bland: "It wasn't me."
"If it wasn't you, then who else could it be?" Reinhardt clamored unconvinced, only to be glared back by a look from Nyssa.
Nyssa stared at Blade for a few seconds, able to tell that the other party was not lying.
She had an idea in her heart—being able to silently kill so many Vampires and even deal with Reapers was definitely not an ordinary hunter.
Although Blade was strong, he couldn't do it so cleanly and neatly without leaving a trace for half a month.
It seemed that San Francisco still hid an even more formidable character.
"Since it wasn't you, then sorry for the disturbance." Nyssa nodded slightly, turning around to signal her team members to retreat, "We will come to visit another day."
Reinhardt had an unwilling look on his face, but dared not disobey Nyssa's order, glaring fiercely at Blade as he followed outward.
The group quickly disappeared at the warehouse entrance.
Whistler spat out: "What the hell, coming and going as they please."
Blade didn't speak, his gaze looking out toward the night outside the warehouse.
He knew that Nyssa would definitely come back.
He rubbed the hilt of his blade, feeling a little bit of anticipation in his heart.
Once the council people pushed tighter, that fellow couldn't just keep hiding.
By then, maybe they could team up to pull off another job.
Chapter 91: Patient Zero
High up on the rafters of the abandoned factory, Logan had an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth, sitting Cross-legged on the rusted steel frame with his eyelids lowered as he watched the "farming scene" below, looking for all the world like a farm owner inspecting a chive field.
A dozen ordinary Vampires were chased into a panicked scramble, followed by a group of Reapers with wide-split jaws. Roars and screams mixed together, and pitch-black blood splattered all over the walls.
The Vampires who were bitten would convulse for less than half a minute before their eyes turned red and their jaws split open, staggering to their feet to join the ranks of the predators. The infection speed was as fast as copy and paste.
When the infection was almost done, Logan leisurely raised his hand.
A grayish-white airflow net spread out from mid-air, and the fine wind blades hummed and buzzed, descending overhead like an invisible fishing net.
The Reapers caught in the net didn't even have time to scream before they were instantly sliced apart by the wind blades, turning into fragments all over the ground.
"The efficiency is just different," Logan whistled, the airflow on his fingers slowly dissipating.
Letting the Reapers spread the infection was indeed the right choice. It was equivalent to having these monsters work for him to raise Gu worms, and then wiping them all out once they were fattened up—more than three times more efficient than camping and hunting them one by one.
In just a week, the points in his pocket had increased by over three thousand. At this rate, saving up a bit more would allow him to upgrade his healing factor by another level.
His gaze fell upon the shadows on the second floor of the factory.
Standing there was a tall, thin figure wearing a tattered black trench coat, with half of his face hidden under a hood. The cracks at his jaw were deeper than those of ordinary Reapers, and the energy fluctuations around his body were much stronger—clearly the boss of this group of Reapers.
Patient Zero, Jared Nokma, Eli Damaskinos's good eldest son.
Logan recognized him at a glance.
This guy was also a wretched fellow. Originally the first-in-line heir to the Vampire Council, he had a falling out with his father over political differences and modified the experimental formula himself, turning himself into this ghostly appearance.
Pity that his ambition was not small, but his brain fell a bit short. Just as he was expanding his operation, he ran right into his own harvester.
Jared obviously sensed that something was wrong too.
Standing in the shadows, his crimson eyes swept across the flying ashes all over the ground, and his knuckles clenched with loud cracking sounds.
Half a month.
For a full half month, the Reapers he had worked so hard to infect would disappear in batches every few days, leaving not even a scrap of residue behind.
At first, he thought Blade had done it, but he knew Blade's style well: every strike drew blood, and silver traces were always left behind. Yet these subordinates died completely cleanly, without even a way to investigate how they died.
The opponent was like a ghost hiding in the dark, specifically picking on his Reapers, making it clear they were targeting him.
"Want to fish for me?" Logan chuckled inwardly from the rafters, seeing everything crystal clear.
Today, Jared deliberately brought out only a dozen subordinates, exposing half a flaw of his own, clearly acting as bait waiting for him to show up.
Unfortunately, Logan wouldn't fall for this trick.
Patient Zero was Beta-class; killing him would only net 100 points. If he killed him, who would help infect ordinary Vampires? He wouldn't do something as stupid as killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.
Keeping Jared was equivalent to keeping an automatic seeder. It wasn't too late to haul in the net once the remaining Vampires in San Francisco were mostly infected.
He retreated silently, his figure instantly vanishing behind the steel frame.
Jared waited for a long time, but the anticipated attack never came, only the howling of the wind blowing through broken windows.
Furious, he punched the concrete wall, instantly smashing a large pit into the hard surface.
"A rat with its head hidden and tail exposed!" he growled low, his crimson eyes filled with violence. "If you've got the guts, come out and fight me head-on!"
The only response he received was the sound of sirens in the distance.
Jared gritted his teeth, waved his hand unwillingly, and retreated into the underground tunnel with the remaining Reapers.
Logan, hidden in the dark, watched his back and smiled, shaking his head.
This kid was too green.
On the other side, Nyssa's days were not nearly as comfortable.
She had just emerged from the fifth abandoned stronghold with the Bloodpack, her boots still stained with undried Vampire ash, her face as cold as ice.
It was like this again.
Every time they rushed over upon receiving news, there was only a ground full of flying ashes left. Let alone the culprit, not even a complete scrap of bone could be found.
The number of Reapers hadn't increased, and ordinary Vampires were rapidly decreasing, as if two invisible hands were simultaneously spreading the virus and frantically clearing the field, running them around in circles.
"Captain, going on like this isn't a solution," Asad wiped the ash from his face, his tone carrying a hint of exhaustion. "The opponent is too fast, and we are always a step behind. If we keep running like this, before we even find the culprit, all the Vampires in San Francisco will be dead."
Reinhardt kicked a piece of gravel nearby and cursed, "It must be Blade! Who else has this kind of ability besides him? I said last time we shouldn't have let him go—we should've just grabbed him and interrogated him, and he would've confessed everything!"
"It's not him," Nyssa said calmly. "Blade's method involves silver blades, leaving clean wounds. These victims don't even have wounds; it's more like they were directly annihilated by some kind of energy."
She paused and made a decision: "We're going to the old shipyard again to find Blade."
"Still looking for him?" Reinhardt widened his eyes. "He wasn't cooperative last time..."
"He knows who did it," Nyssa interrupted, her tone certain. "When I went last time, he wasn't surprised at all; it was obvious he knew what was going on. This time, he'll agree to team up."
And indeed, facts proved Nyssa right.
When she led the Bloodpack into the old shipyard warehouse once more, stated her intentions, and proposed an alliance, Blade nodded with almost no hesitation.
Whistler leaned against the side, chewing on a cigarette and speaking sarcastically, "Yo, the big lady of the Council actually has a time when she begs us? Weren't you pretty arrogant before?"
"Whistler," Blade called out, halting his sarcasm, and looked at Nyssa. "The Reaper virus is spreading too fast; you guys can't stop it alone. Speak, how do we do this."
Nyssa breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.
She knew that although Blade didn't get along with the Council, their stance was consistent when it came to dealing with the Reapers.
The group quickly finalized the plan.
They chose to set an ambush at the abandoned subway station in the city center, capturing a few wicked Vampires and locking them in the station lobby, using the scent of blood as bait.
Whether it was that mysterious hunter or the leader of the Reapers, anyone who dared to come shouldn't expect to leave easily.
"The opponent is very strong, you guys be careful," Blade wiped his long sword, his tone flat, with no discernible emotion.
Reinhardt scoffed, wanting to say how strong could they possibly be, but was glared back by a look from Nyssa.
She always felt that Blade's words weren't a reminder, but rather a statement of fact.
That person hiding in the dark was probably far more terrifying than they had anticipated.
The ambush was set for midnight.
The subway station was pitch black, with only the emergency lights emitting a faint green glow.
Several bound Vampires shrank into a corner, trembling.
The Bloodpack hid scattered behind the pillars, and Blade crouched in the shadows of the platform, his whole person seeming to merge into the darkness.
Nyssa gripped her dual blades, standing at the very front, her gaze locked tightly onto the depths of the tunnel.
Time ticked away second by second, and the scent of blood in the air grew thicker and thicker.
Suddenly, faint roars came from the depths of the tunnel, growing closer and denser from afar.
"They're here," Whistler growled low, tightening his grip on his shotgun.
The next second, dense swarms of Reapers poured out from the tunnel, numbering a good thirty to forty, a pitch-black mass, and a foul, pungent stench hit them face-on.
"Why are there so many?" Reinhardt's heart skipped a beat, instinctively wanting to open fire.
"Wait!" Nyssa raised her hand to stop him, her brows tightly knitted. "No, the one leading..."
The Reaper at the very front was noticeably a head taller than its peers, and its movements were steadier. Instead of rushing blindly forward like the other monsters, it actually stopped in its tracks, its crimson eyes sweeping across the station lobby with a scrutinizing look.
It was the leader of the Reapers.
Nyssa's heart chilled. She had originally thought the one coming would be that mysterious hunter, but she hadn't expected to draw out the main boss first.
"Do it!"
She no longer hesitated, giving a low shout as she charged out first. Her dual blades flashed with a cold light, precisely slitting the throats of the two Reapers in front. The silver blades touched the monsters' blood, hissing and emitting white smoke.
The Bloodpack launched their attack simultaneously.
Snowman wielded his silver sword, cleaving a Reaper's head apart with a single strike, his strength so great that half of the opponent's body was smashed into the ground.
Priest gripped a silver-plated crucifix dagger, his footwork flexible as he specifically targeted the monsters' eyes and throats.
Lighthammer and Light Axe ranged and melee, one using silver crossbow bolts for remote sniping, the other holding a poleaxe for close combat, cooperating seamlessly.
Scud shouldered a modified grenade launcher, blasting specifically at places where monsters clustered, blowing flying ashes everywhere.
Blade moved as well.
Like a black lightning bolt, he darted out from the shadows, his silver longsword carrying a piercing sound through the air. Wherever he passed, Reapers fell in rows, turning into flying ashes.
His blade technique was clean and crisp, without a shred of extra movement, far outstripping the efficiency of the Bloodpack.
Reinhardt watched with unconvinced resentment, bottling up his strength as he charged forward, wanting to snatch a kill to prove himself.
Just as he caught up to a stray Reaper, a fierce wind suddenly struck from behind.
It was that leading Reaper!
Its speed was astonishingly fast, a claw carrying dark-purple venom striking toward Reinhardt's back. If that blow landed solidly, he wouldn't die without being crippled.
"Careful!"
Nyssa's expression changed, and she rushed over almost teleportation-style, crossing her dual blades to block in front of Reinhardt.
"Clang—!"
The sharp claws struck the backs of the blades, splashing a string of sparks.
Nyssa was forced back two steps by the immense force, her tiger's mouth going numb, and she was secretly shocked inside—this monster's strength was far greater than that of ordinary Reapers.
The two instantly became entangled in close combat.
The leading Reaper's moves were vicious and ruthless, not only fast but also carrying a certain method, unlike other monsters that only knew how to pounce wildly.
Although Nyssa's dual blades were fierce, she couldn't gain the upper hand for a moment.
As they fought, she slashed open the hood on the opponent's face with a knife, the black fabric shattering to reveal the face underneath.
The moment she saw the face clearly, Nyssa froze completely.
Although the jaw was split with the Reaper's signature gap, the facial contours, the shape of the brow bones, and those eyes carrying violence...
"Jared?"
She blurted out, her voice carrying incredulous astonishment.
Jared Damaskinos, her own biological brother, the Council's rightful first heir.
Two years ago, their father said he went out on a mission and accidentally went missing. The Council searched for him for a full year, and everyone thought he was already dead.
How could he have turned into this state?
The man opposite stopped his attack, his split wide mouth pulling into a bizarre smile, his voice hoarse and distorted: "Long time no see, my good sister."
"It really is you..." Nyssa's hand gripping her blade tightened slightly, her heart churning. "Why? Father looked for you for so long, and you actually... actually turned into this kind of monster?"
"Monster?" Jared sneered, his eyes filled with bitter resentment. "That old thing Eli is worthy of looking for me? Everything I've become now is thanks to him!"
He pointed at Nyssa, his tone growing increasingly agitated: "You go back and tell that old thing, his good days are at an end. Once I control all the Reapers, the first thing I'll do is tear down his Council hall!"
"You're crazy!" Nyssa's face turned pale. "The Reaper virus is completely uncontrollable! Look at these monsters—they even eat their own kind! If this goes on, the entire Vampirerace will be destroyed!"
"Destroyed, so what?" Jared laughed wildly. "Rotten old rules were meant to be smashed to pieces in the first place!"
Saying this, he took a step back, glanced at his subordinates who had been mostly cleared out, and swept a gloomy gaze across the entire scene: "I'll let you off the hook today. Tell Eli to wait for me."
As his voice fell, he violently shattered the wall beside him. Amidst flying gravel, his figure rapidly vanished into the depths of the tunnel.
"Don't run!" Reinhardt wanted to pursue, but was stopped by Nyssa reaching out.
She stood in place, looking at the large hole in the wall, her expression intensely complicated.
Who could have imagined that Patient Zero, who caused the Reaper disaster, was actually the Council's eldest son, her own biological brother.
"I guessed long ago that the inside of the Council wasn't clean."
Blade walked over, wiping the bloodstains on his blade with a cloth, his tone as flat as if he were talking about the weather today.
Nyssa turned to look at him, her gaze shifting slightly: "You knew all along?"
"Guessed it." Blade raised his eyes slightly. "Being able to create this kind of virus and spread it right under the Council's noses—it'd be weird if there weren't an insider."
Whistler delivered a finishing blow from the side: "That little mess of yours in the Council is messier than the rats in the sewers."
Nyssa didn't refute.
Her mind was a mess right now: on one side was her family and the Council, on the other was the crisis of the spreading infection, along with that mysterious hunter hiding in the dark who still hadn't shown his face.
Matters were far more complex than she had anticipated.
Meanwhile, in the subway station's ventilation duct, Loganpuffed on his cigar, watching the dispersing crowd below, and clicked his tongue.
He had just casually used magnetism to snap the necks of three Reapers trying to slip away in the chaos, earning another hundred and fifty points. Just as he was getting ready to leave, he ran right into such a high-society ethical drama.
"Father and son turning against each other, brother and sister slaughtering one another—more exciting than dog-blood short dramas in the astral realm," he muttered a small complaint, patting the dust off his pants.
Jared's identity had been exposed; next, the Vampire Council was bound to experience internal strife.
Once Eli learned that his son had turned into this, who knew whether he would sacrifice his family for righteousness or protect his calf.
No matter what, the more chaotic the better. Only when things got chaotic could one fish in troubled waters.
Logan smiled, his figure flashing, silently vanishing into the ventilation duct.
Once the Council and Jared fought to mutual exhaustion, he would step in to wrap things up and see if he could catch a big fish by the way.
Chapter 92: Reaping the Spoils
When Nyssa led the surviving team back to the Vampire Council grand hall, it was not yet dawn.
The ancient Gothic building was immersed in the morning mist, and the candlelight burned all the way along the stone wall to the throne. Eli Damaskinos sat in the high-backed chair, his fingertips rubbing a tin goblet, and his expression was even gloomier than the candlelight shadows.
He had obviously received the news, and before Nyssacould speak, he said in a deep voice first: "I know everything."
"You know?" Nyssa twitched the corner of her mouth and propped her dual blades on the ground. The metallic clanging sound was exceptionally crisp in the spacious hall. "Do you know that Jared didn't die? Do you know he became Reapers Patient Zero? Do you know that so many of our kind died in San Francisco, and it was all done by your good son?"
Behind her, Blade leaned against a stone pillar with his arms crossed, his silver blades slanting across his waist, his eyelids half-drooped like an irrelevant onlooker.
Whistler stood next to him, chomping on a cigarette and looking around, his eyes full of "None of you in the Council are reliable at all."
Eli put down the wine glass, the candlelight reflecting the exhaustion in the depths of his eyes, completely devoid of energy or the majesty of the former Council leader.
"Of course I know." His voice was hoarse, carrying a trace of imperceptible dejection. "Two years ago, he opposed my conservative policy and secretly went to conduct mutation experiments, wanting to overthrow human society by strengthening the kindred. I stopped him, we argued fiercely, and finally... the experiment got out of control, and he became like that."
He paused, his fingertips gripping so tightly they turned white: "I thought that locking him in the underground laboratory in San Francisco and slowly researching a cure could save him. Who would have thought that he escaped and spread the virus."
"So you kept it from everyone and let him kill outside?" Nyssa's voice rose a few notches. "So many people died in the Council, and our kind in San Francisco are almost wiped out. Just because of that bit of father-son affection, you watched the situation get out of control?"
"I am the head of the Council!" Eli slammed the armrest fiercely, his tone hardening again. "Family scandals must not be made public! If the Elders knew that the leader's son turned into a monster, the Council would experience civil strife on the spot!"
"Civil strife is better than the destruction of the entire clan." Nyssa retorted coldly.
Father and daughter were at daggers drawn, and the air pressure in the hall was frighteningly low.
Blade listened boredly on the side, his fingertips gently tapping the hilt of his blade.
Sure enough, the trivial matters of the Vampire Councilwere just power, family affection, and ambition mixed together over and over again, even more long-winded than those politicians in New York.
If he wasn't waiting for Jared to make a big enough fuss to close the net, he wouldn't bother wasting time with these old antiques.
Right at this moment, the door of the hall was smashed open with a loud "boom".
Amidst the splashing gravel, Jared walked in with a wide grin, followed closely by hundreds of Reapers, the fishy stench of wind instantly filling the entire hall.
The trench coat on his body was tattered, revealing the grayish-blue skin underneath. His crimson eyes stared straight at Eli on the throne, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper scraping: "My good father, long time no see."
"Jared..." Eli stood up, his expression changing instantly. "How dare you storm the Council hall!"
"Why wouldn't I dare?" Jared laughed wildly, his split mouth stretching almost to his earlobes. "When you locked me up as a defective product, why didn't you think of today? Today I will tear down your lousy Council and let all the stubborn old fogies see what the true future of the kindred is!"
With a wave of his hand, the Reapers behind him instantly roared and rushed forward.
The Council guards immediately met them, silver swords unsheathed, and the shouts of killing shook the heavens.
But how could ordinary Vampires be a match for Reapers? The former lagged far behind in speed and strength. Within seconds of being bitten, their eyeballs would turn red, and they would turn around to pounce on their former companions.
The more they fought, the more enemies there were, and the defense line retreated step by step.
"Trash! All trash!" Eli cursed angrily, drew the silver longsword from his waist, and charged forward personally.
Having lived for hundreds of years, his combat skills were indeed remarkable. As his silver sword flashed, several Reapers had their heads chopped off and turned into flying ash.
But he couldn't withstand the sheer number of Reapers, who came wave after wave like a tide; as soon as one wave was killed, another came.
Bloodpack also immediately joined the battle.
The Priest held a Cross-hilted dagger, chanting prayers under his breath, weaving flexibly through the crowd of monsters, specifically stabbing at the eye sockets of the Reapers, every strike precise and fatal.
But just as he eliminated three, two mutated Council guards suddenly pounced from behind. Failing to dodge in time, his shoulder was fiercely bitten.
"Dammit!" The Priest let out a muffled groan and backhanded his opponent's throat through. But the toxin had already spread along the wound, and his skin turned a grayish-blue at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Gritting his teeth, he shouted to Nyssa: "Captain! I can't hold on! Don't mind me!"
As his voice fell, he lunged fiercely into a cluster of Reapersand pulled the pin of the silver grenade at his waist.
"Boom——!"
Amidst the explosion mixed with screams, a dozen Reapers were blown into flying ash, and the Priest's figure also disappeared into the flames.
"Priest!" Nyssa's eyes turned red, her dual blades dancing impenetrably, but she was tightly entangled by the Reapers and could not rush over.
Reinhardt's eyes were bloodshot as he fired his gun wildly: "You sons of bitches!" He was so immersed in fighting that he didn't notice Jared lunging from the side.
"Look out!" Yasa shouted, but it was already too late to pull him back.
Jared's claw pierced through Reinhardt's chest, and the dark purple venom instantly corroded his internal organs.
Black blood poured from Reinhardt's mouth, but he still stubbornly emptied his last magazine of silver bullets into Jared's shoulder before collapsing limply.
"Reinhardt!"
The battle situation was getting worse and worse.
Yeti wielded a long sword, blocking the left passage single-handedly. His blade chopped the Reapers into flying flesh and blood, but he couldn't withstand the endless stream of monsters. The wounds on his body multiplied, and his movements gradually slowed down.
Finally, he was pounced on by three Reaperssimultaneously and torn into pieces.
Wei Lian stood on the steps firing crossbow bolts, her shots never missing, but she was quickly surrounded by leaping Reapers. The moment her bolts ran out, she was engulfed by the monsters.
Light Axe, covered in blood while wielding a long axe, wanted to rush over to save Wei Lian, but was intercepted by Jared. The two fought for more than a dozen rounds, and ultimately Light Axe was pierced through his energy core by one of Jared's claws, crashing heavily to the ground.
Cuba carried a grenade launcher, blowing rubble all over the hall, but the grenades ran out and the Reapers were still surging forward.
He cursed with a smile, "I've gotten my money's worth," and rushed into the pile of monsters hugging the last bomb. After a loud explosion, there was dead silence.
In just over ten minutes, out of the seven members of Bloodpack, six were lost.
Corpses littered the hall, silver weapons were scattered everywhere, and dark bloodstains and flying ash were all over the place.
The remaining people were forced onto the steps before the throne. Eli was covered in wounds, Nyssa's dual blades both had notched edges, and Yasa had been bitten on the arm, gritting his teeth to hold on.
Blade still stood steadily, his long sword stained with dark blood, but his breathing wasn't much disordered, except that his eyes had grown a few shades darker.
The surrounding Reapers slowly closed in, densely packed, numbering in the hundreds, and the fishy stench hit their faces.
Jared stood at the very front, looking at the disheveled crowd, laughing frantically: "How about it, my good father? Do you still think I am a defective product now?"
Eli clutched his bleeding abdomen, his face pale, unable to utter a single word.
Nyssa gripped her dual blades tightly, preparing for a last-ditch battle.
Despair washed up like a tide, and no one thought they could walk out of this hall alive.
Right at this moment, a sudden change occurred.
The silver daggers, longswords, crossbow bolts, and shrapnel scattered on the ground suddenly levitated without warning.
First one or two pieces, followed by dozens, then hundreds.
The tiny silver utensils hummed and trembled in the air, as if controlled by an invisible hand, densely covering nearly half the sky, reflecting the candlelight with a chilling light.
"What is that?" Jared's expression changed as he abruptly raised his head.
No one answered him.
The next second, all the silver weapons moved simultaneously.
"Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh——!!!"
The sound of breaking air merged into one, like a silver rainstorm, whistling towards the group of Reapers.
Silver swords pierced through chests, daggers nailed into skulls, and tiny shrapnel drilled directly into eye sockets, throats, and joint gaps.
Every weapon was terrifyingly precise, picking vital spots to drill into, and didn't even slow down when turning corners.
Reapers fell in patches, unable to even complete their screams. Wherever they touched the silver utensils, they sizzled with white smoke and instantly turned into flying ash.
Jared was both shocked and angry, roaring as he tried to dodge, but the surroundings were full of flying silver utensils. Just as he dodged a long sword, his lower back was pinned through by three crossbow bolts simultaneously. He wanted to counterattack, but couldn't even find where the enemy was.
"Who is it?! What kind of skill is hiding your head and showing your tail! Come out!" He frantically smashed the surrounding stone pillars, sending gravel flying.
An even denser silver offensive responded to him.
In just a few short seconds, hundreds of Reapers were mostly dead, the ground covered in flying ash and scattered silver utensils, with not even a complete corpse to be found.
Jared also had a dozen silver utensils stuck in his body, kneeling on one knee, supporting his body from falling, his crimson eyes filled with unwillingness.
A series of prompt sounds exploded in his mind. Logansquatted on the dome crossbeam of the hall, chomping on a lit cigar, rapidly calculating an account in his mind.
Scattered and added together, it was close to forty thousand points.
"This wave is rich." He clicked his tongue secretly, "If I had known the Council couldn't take a beating, I would have made a move earlier and saved up even more."
He originally wanted to wait a bit longer, waiting for Jaredto completely disrupt the Council and for there to be more Reapers before closing the net.
But seeing that Blade was about to be pushed to a dead end, if he didn't act now, something really bad would happen.
If Blade died, who would help him attract firepower in the future, and who would be his free handyman?
This deal wasn't worth it.
Everyone below was dumbfounded.
Eli opened his mouth wide, looking at the flying ash all over the ground, unable to recover his senses for a long time.
Nyssa's hand holding the blade was shaking. Hundreds of Reapers, gone in a few seconds? What kind of monstrous power was this?
Blade raised his head, his gaze falling into the shadows of the dome, his eyes shifting slightly.
He just knew that this guy must be watching from the side.
"Come down if you've seen enough." Blade spoke, his voice not loud, but exceptionally quiet in the quiet hall. "Aren't you tired hiding up there?"
Logan clicked his tongue, he had been discovered.
He no longer hid, leaping down from the crossbeam over a dozen meters high, landing steadily in the center of the hall without making a single sound upon landing.
He patted the dust off his pants, chomped on his cigar, and tilted his chin at Blade: "Not bad, you could even spot that."
"Your cigar smell has been drifting for ages." Blade replied indifferently.
Logan rubbed his nose, forgetting about that matter.
Blade was a half-Vampire with an extremely sharp nose.
Jared on the side looked at the suddenly popped-up human, his eyes turning red: "It's you! You've been hiding in the dark killing my subordinates! You ruined my plan!"
"What else?" Logan raised an eyebrows, glanced at him, his tone carrying a trace of casual mockery. "With your level of intelligence, you still want to overthrow the Council's rule? Leeks don't even grow as fast as you; crop after crop gets harvested, and I should even thank you for helping me work."
Jared trembled all over with anger, roaring as he lunged forward, the venom on his claws glowing with a dark light.
Logan didn't even move his place, raising his hand and gently clenching it.
"Snap——"
Jared's limbs were instantly twisted by magnetic force into bizarre angles, the sound of bones shattering clearly audible, and his massive body slammed to the ground with a "thud", unable to move.
"With just this bit of skill, you dare to learn how to rebel." Logan sneered, his fingertips moving slightly, and a fallen silver sword nearby flew over, precisely piercing Jared's mouthparts.
Jared twitched twice and completely turned into flying ash, leaving not even a scrap behind.
The hall fell completely silent.
Eli looked at the man in front of him, then looked at the mess all over the ground, his Adam's apple moving, unable to speak for a long time.
Having lived for hundreds of years, he had never seen such a powerful human.
Manipulating metal, killing with thought, clearing hundreds of Reapers in seconds, and even dealing with Patient Zero as if pinching an ant.
Nyssa stepped forward, looking at Logan with a complex expression: "You are... that mysterious hunter who has been hunting our kind in San Francisco?"
"Can't really be considered a hunter." Logan waved his hand. "Just making some side cash along the way."
Making side cash?
Eli's mouth twitched.
So their kindred's life and death were just a way to make side cash in this person's eyes?
But he didn't dare say anything.
The other party could casually wipe out hundreds of Reapers. If they really fell out, the entire Council combined wouldn't be enough for him to fight.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the shock in his heart, stepped forward, and slightly nodded: "Thank you, Your Excellency, for your help. The Damaskinos family owes you a favor. Feel free to make any request, as long as the Council can do it..."
"No need." Logan directly interrupted him. "I was just passing by and saved someone by the way. I have no interest in getting involved in your Council's trivial matters."
As he spoke, he jerked his chin at Blade: "Let's go, stop staying here, it smells like mold."
Blade nodded, hoisted his sword, and followed.
Whistler whistled and quickly followed, not forgetting to turn back and wink at Nyssa before leaving.
When the three of them walked out of the Council hall, it was just dawning.
The morning breeze blew away the mist, and human voices gradually appeared on the street.
"Thanks." Blade suddenly spoke, his voice still low, not showing much emotion, but very sincere.
"What are you being polite for." Logan smiled. "If you die, who will help me pull monsters in the future? You're still useful."
Blade glanced at him without refuting, but the corner of his mouth curved up extremely faintly, so fast it was like an illusion.
Whistler clicked his tongue nearby: "I'm telling you, kid, you're way too fierce! Hundreds of monsters gone in seconds? Even fiercer than military firepower! If I had known you were this capable of fighting, why did we bother going through all that effort to set an ambush!"
"Ambushes are so interesting." Logan chomped on his cigar and walked forward leisurely. "How boring would it be to just wipe them out directly? Watching them fight like dogs and then wiping them out in one go is much more efficient."
He calculated happily in his heart.
Over forty thousand points, and he was just a little bit away from upgrading his healing factor to the Omega-level, which belonged to regenerating from a drop of blood, the kind where you wouldn't die even if decapitated and thrown into a vacuum.
This trip to San Francisco was worth it.
It was just a pity for Bloodpack, who died a bit early, otherwise they could have held on a bit longer and let there be more Reapers.
Logan clicked his tongue, feeling a bit regretful.
But it didn't matter; anyway, the Vampire Council was still around, and there would definitely be new drama in the future.
Leeks, after all, once a crop is harvested, they can always grow back again.