The shotgun blast was devastating.
The force alone tore a jagged hole through the wall behind Rex Viper, chunks of concrete exploding outward in a cloud of dust. Even though he had already moved, the sheer power of the shot made it clear—if it had hit him directly, the damage would have been severe.
He didn't get a second to breathe.
The woman was already on him.
Her claws cut through the air with a sharp, rancid scent, her speed far beyond that of any normal human. In that instant, Rex's focus sharpened to its limit, every nerve firing as he twisted his body just enough to avoid the strike by the narrowest margin.
At the same time, his pistols fired.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
The shots were clean and precise.
Every bullet hit.
One of them punched straight through her heart.
Her scream tore through the room, raw and inhuman, before her body ignited from within. Flames didn't appear—she simply combusted, collapsing into a pile of blackened ash in seconds.
The man's rage exploded.
"You bastard!" he roared, firing again and again without restraint.
But his movements were sloppy.
Despite possessing the strength and resilience of a vampire, he lacked real combat experience. His shots were wild, driven by anger instead of discipline, and against someone like Rex, that was a fatal mistake.
Rex moved like a shadow, slipping past every blast with ease.
A flick of his wrist sent a dagger spinning through the air.
It struck the man's gun hand.
The shotgun dropped instantly.
Before he could react, two more shots rang out, hitting both of his ankles. He collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his body no longer able to support him.
"Fuck!" the man snarled, glaring up. "Who are you? I've never messed with you!"
Rex stepped closer, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "I'm human," he said calmly. "Are you sure you've never messed with us?"
The man struggled to push himself upright, his voice tense. "My family is pure-blood," he said. "We've been given blood from the Elders since birth. We don't hunt. We don't kill."
Rex smiled faintly.
"That's not my problem," he replied. "Killing you has nothing to do with your excuses."
The man's expression darkened. "If you kill me," he said coldly, "the vampires will hunt you forever."
Rex tilted his head slightly. "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe they're just prey waiting to die."
The man stared at him, frowning. "You're a vampire hunter," he said slowly. "But I've never heard of you."
Rex didn't respond.
Instead, he studied the man in silence for a few seconds. "Aren't you afraid?" he asked suddenly.
The man blinked, then burst into laughter.
"So all this talk," he sneered, "was just to scare me?"
His expression hardened instantly. "I've lived for centuries," he said. "I'm not afraid of death. Don't think you can play with me."
"Boom!"
The shot was final.
The silver-plated bullet tore through his head.
His body collapsed, dissolving into ash just like the others.
Rex clicked his tongue softly.
What a waste.
Three kills would have secured a five-star reward, but this didn't count. As the level of his targets increased, more of them would be like this—unafraid, unshaken, impossible to push into emotional extremes.
If he wanted the best rewards, simple killing wouldn't be enough anymore.
He'd have to get creative.
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.
The earlier gunfire had drawn attention.
Rex picked up the shotgun, preparing to leave, but something caught his eye—a notebook resting neatly on the bedside table.
He flipped it open.
A diary.
As he scanned through it, his eyes narrowed slightly. His earlier suspicion was now confirmed.
Vampires started at bronze-level.
From that perspective, they were ideal targets.
Even better, the diary contained something valuable—names, locations, habits. Clues.
Rex closed it and slipped it into his coat.
On the way back, he opened the reward he had just earned.
[ Congratulations. Reward obtained: Infrared Vision. ]
Another eye-based ability.
A strange sensation spread through his eyes, like warmth flowing beneath the surface. The world shifted instantly.
Heat signatures bloomed into view.
Warm objects glowed red. Cold ones faded into blue.
More importantly, walls no longer blocked his perception entirely. Through them, faint red outlines became visible, revealing hidden shapes and movement.
It wasn't full X-ray vision, but it was close enough to change everything.
In any gunfight, vision was everything.
Find the target.
Then eliminate it.
The only limitation was range—his new ability worked best within a few dozen meters, which conveniently matched the effective range of his pistols.
Back at the church, the old pickup rattled as it came to a stop.
David had good news.
The girl had woken up.
For now, she was conscious, stable—but Rex knew it wouldn't last. Without a proper serum, her condition would deteriorate, and eventually, she would fully turn.
There was only one person suited for that task.
Karen Jensen.
In the original Blade storyline, she had been bitten and still managed to develop a serum capable of suppressing—and eventually countering—the transformation. She had even created an anticoagulant weapon powerful enough to weaken vampires significantly.
If anyone could solve this, it was her.
After learning the truth, the girl didn't hesitate. She took the address David provided and left immediately.
Meanwhile, Rex focused on the diary.
One detail stood out.
A "blood feast."
A vampire gathering organized by Deacon Frost, the rising leader of the half-blood faction.
The description painted a vivid picture.
A nightclub drenched in darkness.
Music pounding.
Chosen victims dragged in as sacrifices.
And blood—everywhere.
It wasn't just a gathering. It was a spectacle.
Through these events, Frost had built influence rapidly, his reputation growing to the point where even the pure-blood Elders saw him as a threat.
But power wasn't enough.
According to the diary, Frost had been searching for something more—digging into ancient vampire records, studying fragments of the so-called Book of the Dead, looking for a way to ascend.
His goal was simple.
Sacrifice pure-blood vampires.
Gain the power of the Blood God.
Rex's eyes gleamed slightly.
Tonight, there would be another blood feast.
Location: a hidden base beneath a slaughterhouse.
Attendance: over a hundred vampires.
A slow smile spread across his face.
How could he possibly miss something like that?
Still, he needed preparation.
…
On the outskirts of Queens, a massive slaughterhouse stood in silence.
Under the cover of night, cars slipped in one after another. Some were ordinary. Others were luxury vehicles worth millions.
They all disappeared into the same place.
Beyond the automated processing area, a heavy metal door marked the entrance to something far darker. A burly man stood guard, checking each arrival before allowing them inside.
Beyond that door lay the real event.
The blood feast.
But tonight, something was different.
After letting in the latest sacrifice, the guard frowned slightly.
A faint sound reached him.
Gunfire.
It was subtle—suppressed—but distinct.
The music from inside masked most of it, but not enough.
After a moment of hesitation, he drew his pistol and moved forward cautiously.
The sound grew clearer.
Footsteps.
He pressed his back against a concrete pillar, took a steady breath, and slowly leaned out to check.
"Boom!"
The bullet hit him square between the eyes.
He didn't even see it coming.
His last thought flickered briefly.
Cheating.
Then everything went dark.
Outside, Rex calmly swapped magazines, his movements steady and unhurried.
On his way in, he had already cleared several vampires and more than a dozen human guards.
With infrared vision, the difference was obvious.
Vampires burned hotter.
Over fifty degrees.
They stood out like beacons in the dark.
Now, only the main hall remained.
Rex tapped his earpiece. "David," he said quietly, "ready?"
David's voice came through immediately, tense and annoyed. "I'm support, not a frontline fighter. Why am I out here dealing with vampires? If I die, who's going to manage your money?"
Rex smirked slightly. "Relax. You'll be in the safest spot."
At the rear entrance, David sat in a modified pickup truck, hidden in the shadows.
The back of the vehicle had been transformed.
Batteries packed tightly.
Dozens of ultraviolet lamps mounted across the front.
When activated, it would shine brighter than the sun.
The back door was their fallback route.
Rex would hit the front.
David would lock down the rear.
A perfect pincer.
Rex inhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Then he raised his foot.
"Boom!"
The door exploded inward.
....
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