Dennis still failed to realize that falling into the hands of the man standing before him meant living would be far more agonizing than dying.
“Give me an account number!
I can transfer vast sums of money to you!” Unaware of the terror hidden beneath Duval’s words, Dennis spoke in a frantic rush.
“Whatever your goal is, I can help you!
I swear on the honor of the vampire clans—” “Enough.
Clans or no clans, they’re worthless to me.” Duval cut him off.
Only now that the battle had settled did he casually stroll closer.
Four Runner Xenomorphs against six armed vampires had resulted in only minor injuries to two of his creatures.
Such a casualty ratio was acceptable, considering Runner Xenomorphs were inherently weak.
Runner Xenomorphs were born from parasitizing lower mammals such as dogs, cats, cows, or horses.
Quadrupedal from birth, they spent the vast majority of their lives moving on four legs just like their hosts, occupying the lowest tier of the Xenomorph hierarchy.
They possessed the lowest physical attack power, though they compensated with higher agility due to their smaller build—standing roughly 2.2 meters tall when upright.
Compared to Drone or Warrior Xenomorphs, which could only drag themselves around using their tails immediately after chestbursting and required several hours to mature into bipedal forms, the Runner matured much faster.
Their only truly commendable trait was their ability to actively spit acidic blood—a capability that standard Drones and Warriors lacked.
Since these four Runners had been spawned from ordinary low-tier animals, one couldn’t expect too much from their raw physical capabilities.
Duval cast a brief glance at the police officer who had been partially mauled.
“If I were you, I’d put him down right now.
Put a bullet through his head.” Duval said casually, “His body is already saturated with the vampire virus.
He’s going to turn soon.
It’s better to kill him completely before the transformation finishes.” George Stacy kept his gun raised, his hands trembling slightly around the weapon—it was his only sense of security right now.
As for the young officers beside him?
They had long been scared out of their wits.
This was their first time ever witnessing the dark underbelly of the world.
“Vampires…
Vampires…
They really exist…
And those monsters…” one young officer muttered to himself, staring blankly at the gruesome scene before dry-heaving violently.
The vampires that bullets couldn’t kill had just been skewered like meat on a stick by those nightmare creatures.
Flesh and blood had splattered everywhere in a grisly display.
“Oh, it’s not just vampires,” Duval chuckled, his posture relaxed and natural.
“The world is far more colorful than you think.
Whether demons or gods show up tomorrow, none of it should surprise you.” If one ignored the terrifying Xenomorphs surrounding him like royal guards attending their sovereign, he had the charming demeanor of a comforting big brother.
“Sir…
thank you.
You and your…
companions saved our lives,” George said, forcing down his racing heart.
The past few minutes had been far too traumatic.
He tried his best to keep his voice steady, but a slight tremor slipped through.
“I will handle my colleague appropriately.” “Good.
It’s much easier dealing with sensible people.
What’s your name, Officer?” “George Stacy.” Duval rubbed his chin.
That name, that age…
Right, this was Gwen’s father.
“Sir, I still don’t know your name…
And what do you plan to do with these vampires?” George asked, gathering his courage.
A continuous *drip-drip* echoed from the Xenomorphs—some of it vampire blood, some of it their own acidic fluid.
“You’ll have a chance to learn my name in the future.
For now, don’t come back here.
Regardless of who gave you the order, stay away from this entire district.
Whoever sent you here wanted you dead.” Duval waved a hand dismissively.
Though he didn’t possess top-tier intellect on par with Tony Stark or Shuri, he had plenty of basic deductive reasoning.
“Cap…” The vomiting officer wiped his mouth, glanced at George, and began dry-heaving again.
“That guy…
he’s breeding illegal biological weapons…
Isn’t that against the law…” “Well spoken.
I love a man with a strong sense of justice,” Duval smiled.
“Though, if you manage to arrest Tony Stark first, I might actually take your words seriously.” Duval turned and walked away, vanishing into the darkness alongside the Xenomorphs.
Only the chaotic wreck on the ground remained as proof that something supernatural had transpired.
George looked down at his disfigured colleague, fell silent for a long moment, and pulled the trigger, placing a bullet neatly through his head.
“Cap!” “Shut up!
I know what I’m doing!” George’s face turned thunderous and grim.
He harbored a burning hatred for the bastard who had given him this assignment, losing a fine young officer in the process.
Supernatural incidents were never meant to be handled by unprepared beat cops.
Even if they had to respond, they should have been briefed beforehand and equipped with heavy firepower!
“Cap…
you said earlier that an animal rights group reported this.” “I lied to you guys.
If it were just an animal rights group, precinct leadership wouldn’t have dispatched us.” As for how to close this case officially…
they would pin it on the vampires.
Yes, it made total sense for bloodsucking monsters to slaughter stray animals for blood.
And as for that stranger commanding those strange creatures, he was clearly a superhuman entity.
At the very least, he had saved their lives from the vampires.
*** To Duval, saving a few police officers in passing was merely a minor interlude.
The six captured vampires were his real focus.
Along the way back, he repeatedly checked up on the vampires’ condition, genuinely worried they might die before reaching the destination.
This sudden display of warm concern left the dying vampires deeply bewildered.
One vampire even tried his luck, suggesting that if the Xenomorphs put them down, they might still be able to save themselves.
Duval ignored the plea completely.
Reaching the underground cavern, Duval stepped inside and commanded the Xenomorphs to brutally throw the helpless vampires onto the ground.
Dennis frantically scanned his surroundings, realizing this place resembled the nest of some underground beast, coated in strange, sticky resin.
A strange organic tube extended through the ceiling, and beneath it lay three bizarre, fleshy eggs.
Sensing their presence, the contents inside the eggs instantly became active and excited.
With just a single glance, a bone-chilling dread surged within Dennis’s soul, as if he were being locked onto by something horrific.
“Six vampires.
One by one.” Duval personally grabbed a vampire by the neck, pressing him down in front of an egg.
Instantly, the egg opened at the top like a blooming flower, four petals peeling back.
Seconds later, a strange, spider-like organism scuttled out.
A Facehugger.
“Let go of me!
What are you doing?!
Mmph—!” The vampire was silenced instantly as the Facehugger clamped down, wrapping around his entire face.
He felt an unknown substance injected deep into his throat.
Before long, his consciousness drifted, and he fell into a deep sleep.
“W-What is that thing doing?!” Dennis watched in total bewilderment.
He knew it had to be something terrible, yet he couldn’t comprehend it.
“You’ll find out very soon.” Duval closely monitored the mental link with the Facehugger.
Once he confirmed the implantation was successful, a surge of joy washed over him.
This success carried extraordinary significance—it was the very first time a Facehugger had successfully parasitized a superpowered host.
All that remained was patient waiting.
Duval was a man of extreme patience—much like the Xenomorphs themselves, capable of lying dormant like inanimate matter for a long time just to secure a single fatal strike.
Finally, when the vampire woke up, he looked around in confusion, shaking his head.
The dried husk of the Facehugger detached effortlessly and slid off his face.
“What did you do to me?!
Why is this thing dead?!” “Vampire, you should pay with your life for every human you’ve murdered,” Duval said softly.
“Fortunately, you offered your strong physical vessel to me.
I’ll make very good use of it.” Under the gaze of several pairs of blood-red eyes, Duval raised his hand and pointed a single index finger at the vampire from a distance.
What happened next plunged the remaining vampires into absolute terror.
A grotesque, writhing bulge suddenly formed on the vampire’s chest.
Before he could even react, a horrifying organism violently burst forth, tearing through flesh and bone, emerging completely bathed in blood!
Desperate shrieks sounded like a exquisite symphony, while violent spasms served as the finest celebratory dance.
A brand-new Xenomorph—one that had parasitized a vampire and stolen its prime genetic traits—was officially born.
It let out its first high-pitched screech into the world, announcing the arrival of a brand-new, infinitely potent supernatural lineage.