Anyone seeing a Xenomorph Egg for the first time would feel a degree of psychological discomfort.
But this wasn’t Duval’s first time seeing them.
Not only was he unbothered, but he also walked forward with a warm smile, reaching out to gently touch them, feeling the pulse of life emanating from within each egg.
That’s right—every Xenomorph established a mental connection with him from the very moment of its birth.
Normally, within the Xenomorph species, only the Xenomorph Queen possessed the inherent authority to command all members of the hive.
Even toward a newly hatched Facehugger, she held absolute control by default—it was coded into the Xenomorph genome.
‘Absolute command…
and after my testing, even the Queen is subordinate to me.’ Duval looked at the Xenomorph beside him.
A normal Xenomorph’s head was smooth and elongated, but this one’s skull was shaped like a crown, denoting majesty and status.
A Queen.
In a hive, only one Xenomorph possessed the ability to lay eggs: the Queen.
“Thanks for your hard work—taking so long to molt into a Queen, and then laboriously laying these five eggs,” Duval said with a smile.
Xenomorphs had no fixed biological gender.
If the hive lost its Queen or an individual ended up isolated, the Xenomorph would follow its genetic instincts, tap into the hidden factors within its DNA, and spontaneously evolve into a Queen to lay eggs.
Thus, Duval had laid low with this Xenomorph for a long time, only breathing a sigh of relief when it successfully evolved into a Queen and laid its eggs.
Xenomorphs were creatures born purely for battle, capable of indiscriminate parasitism, absorbing the host’s finest genes to hatch into a form superior to the host in every way.
In theory, every Xenomorph was stronger than its host.
Five eggs meant five Facehuggers, which required five biological hosts to mature into adult Xenomorphs.
To be honest, for a brief moment, Duval had felt tempted by Blade.
Blade was already an extraordinary individual; if he could be captured and parasitized, the Xenomorph that chestburst from him would possess tremendous power.
However, Duval dismissed the dark thought.
‘I’ll catch some stray cats and dogs to parasitize first.
At least I should bolster my fighting force for now.’ Duval looked at the Queen waiting quietly for his command.
To be frank, compared to the various Queens seen in movies, this Queen was pitifully thin and small.
He needed to buy a large amount of meat to feed her up properly.
Consequently, the small animals in the surrounding area suffered.
Over the next few days, beneath the cover of night, terrifyingly agile shadows frequented the area.
A flash of black in the dark, and a life vanished.
At first, it was just a single shadow.
As time passed, the number of shadows grew.
The brutal hunting intensified.
The blood of various animals spilled across the ground, eventually congealing into mottled, dark stains.
Until several police officers arrived, responding to reports.
“Boss, we’re here.
According to the caller, a large number of wild animals have been disappearing around this area,” a young officer grumbled.
“There’s endless work in the busy districts of New York City.
Why are we wasting precious time in a dump like this?
Just because those animal rights activists are hard to deal with?” “Don’t forget our duty,” the slightly calmer middle-aged police officer, George Stacy, observed the surroundings carefully.
Besides, the person who made the call wasn’t an animal rights activist at all…
“Ever since that playboy calling himself Iron Man came back, our workload has exploded.” “Get real.
At least it’s better than staying in downtown New York, where troublesome guys keep popping up nonstop.” “True.
At least we’re not sent to deal with some dumb billionaire flying around in armor.” George recalled the news he had learned a while back and clicked his tongue inwardly.
Some information couldn’t be made public, but as someone inside the system, he knew a few insider secrets.
He knew that the recent massive explosion at Stark Tower was caused by two tin men brawling with each other.
Judging by the outcome, the victor was undoubtedly Tony Stark, while the defeated party was almost certainly Obadiah Stane, the vanished second-in-command of Stark Industries.
Since that incident, it seemed as if a sensitive fuse had been lit.
Various cases kept erupting, putting unprecedented pressure on the police department.
George pulled his thoughts back and focused on his work, putting on gloves, pulling out his tools, and meticulously gathering every clue around them.
“It really is unnervingly quiet.
It’s like all the animals vanished overnight.” “There are sparse bloodstains on the ground.
Someone attacked these animals.” George frowned.
Blood—the moment he thought of it, an unpleasant suspicion formed in his mind.
They soon didn’t need to worry about guessing, because someone had arrived.
“Gentlemen, what are you looking for?” “Who’s there?
Show me your hands!” Several officers drew their guns defensively.
Instead of stopping, the intruder advanced toward them with a menacing stride.
Under the flashlight beam, his opening mouth revealed rows of sharp fangs.
The officers opened fire decisively.
Bullets struck the pale man’s body, leaving only a few entry holes.
In the blink of an eye, the wounds began to heal.
The regenerating flesh even squeezed the bullets out.
*Whoosh!* The man moved, leaping over thirty feet in a single bound, sinking his teeth into an officer’s neck.
‘A vampire?’ The thought flashed through George’s mind in an instant.
“Boss, there’s more than one!” Several more pale-skinned figures emerged from the dark, competing fiercely as they pounced on the bitten officer, tearing him apart and devouring him in mouthfuls.
The gruesome scene made the officers’ scalps go numb.
Even as they fired, they couldn’t land a fatal blow.
The leading vampire wiped his mouth and looked at them with an amused gaze, clearly appraising them as a bunch of delicious meals.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones targeting this place.
Why are members of the NYPD showing up here?
I don’t recall arranging any police actions for you guys,” he asked.
“Bah!
Since when do vampires get to command us?” George took a deep breath.
“Heh, you know nothing of our influence.
Since you refuse to talk, forget it.
I didn’t come here for you anyway.” The vampire licked his fangs.
Compared to these ordinary humans, he was here to investigate who had provided that Daywalker with the highly corrosive weapon obtained from this area.
“Even though it’s highly corrosive, whether injected or blasted open, it can deal lethal damage to lower-class vampires…
But for some reason, I can distinctly smell blood in that liquid.” Hailing from one of the Thirteen Clans, Dennis carried the heavy responsibility of expanding his clan’s power.
His base had been wiped out by Blade, leaving a massive body count, but it wasn’t a total loss.
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, Blade hadn’t bothered to hide his recent movements.
Dennis had tracked the traces of Blade’s motorcycle and security camera footage, narrowing the search down to a few sectors.
Dennis was deeply interested in this substance that resembled blood.
As everyone knew, vampires gained power from blood—if it was blood, it could be drunk.
Unfortunately, that peculiar liquid evaporated rapidly upon contact with air, giving him no opportunity to sample it.
“Kill these snacks,” Dennis waved his hand casually.
“Killing people on Weyland’s turf without my permission…
what do you think you’re doing?” A voice echoed from afar.
Under the flashlight beams, Duval’s figure loomed faintly a hundred meters away.
“Blade is really impossible to complain about.
When I asked for a few vampires, I didn’t mean like this.”