Tonight, the night sky hung low, the moonlight dim. It was a dark and stormy night, perfect for murder and arson. A biting cold wind, carrying flurries of rain and snow, swept over the city. Pedestrians quickened their pace, unwilling to endure the cold.
Inside the Umbrella Corporation's underground garage, dazzling headlights illuminated the entire space. A row of camouflaged and modified troop carriers stood neatly parked.
This time, the vehicles bore the unique insignia of the FBI, not the Umbrella Corporation logo. Teams of Umbrella combat personnel, disguised as 'FBI' agents, stood in neat, straight lines. Their expressions were grim and solemn.
For this mission, they carried no live ammunition. Their firearms were modified [Anesthetic guns], firing [High-potency anesthetic] darts.
This ensured covert operations with minimal noise. Ordinary bullets were also ineffective against Vampires.
To ensure operative safety, Matthew equipped each person with a [High-power UV light] on their chest. This could protect them and damage Vampires if threatened.
Matthew considered every deployed team his private property; losing even one person would pain him. As for Vampires, their survival was secondary.
"Attention all combat units," a commander's voice boomed. "The targets for this mission are similar to mythical Vampires, so exercise extreme caution during capture."
"To ensure the safety of all units, Commander Lawrence spent a high price. He equipped each of you with a [High-power UV light], to be used against Vampires in critical moments."
"This mission is extremely dangerous. Your primary objective is self-preservation. If special circumstances arise, you may retreat at any time."
"Do you understand?!"
"Understood!" the combat personnel responded loudly.
"In that case..." the commander paused. "Move out!"
With that command, everyone quickly boarded their vehicles. Soon, the black troop carriers slowly drove out of the Umbrella underground parking lot, heading into the night amidst the rain and snow.
...
"My name is Jones, and I am a Vampire."
Before, I was an ordinary human. Today marks my five thousand four hundred seventy-fifth day as a Vampire.
During this time, I have killed one thousand one hundred fifty-one humans. At first, I resisted drinking human blood, finding it disgusting.
I naively thought I could be a Vampire who never drank human blood. I believed I could persevere.
But endless hunger soon washed away that resolve. To survive, I began to hunt.
For the first time, I understood how delicious the blood I once detested truly was. Now, hunting was second nature.
I would lure lust-filled individuals into my web with cheap 'service fees'. Then, amidst their despair and agony, I would drain every last drop of their blood.
This had become my daily routine. Only today, the atmosphere around me seemed a little different.
Under a streetlamp, a lightly dressed Jones walked arm-in-arm with a pot-bellied middle-aged man. Their clothes were soaked with melted snow, indicating a long walk.
This was Jones's usual method: hunting far from residential areas to reduce discovery risk.
"Aren't we there yet? I can't wait any longer..." the man grumbled. His eyes burned with desire, eager to have her in the snow.
Jones merely rolled her eyes. "We'll be there in five more minutes, just hold on a little longer... As the saying goes, good things come to those who wait."
She glanced at the man's greasy neck, licking her lips. Everyone said being fat was bad, but Jones loved it.
High blood pressure, high cholesterol, high blood sugar, one bite was like a peeing beef ball exploding in her mouth. The aroma of fat mixed with sweet blood was mind-blowing.
'Tsk tsk tsk... what could those Vampire Elders possibly eat,' Jones mused. 'Just some "diet meals" and "organic vegetables," that's all.'
'They wouldn't understand the satisfaction this one bite brings...'
Jones narrowed her eyes in enjoyment, thinking of this ultimate delicacy. Soon, they arrived at a desolate courtyard.
The courtyard was full of dead leaves, and the blinds were tightly shut. It looked dilapidated, as if abandoned for days. This was Jones's hideout.
"Huh? Why did you suddenly stop?" the man asked. His mind, clouded by desire, noticed nothing amiss. He simply looked at Jones, who had halted outside.
Jones didn't answer immediately. She crouched down, carefully sniffing the air in the courtyard.
"...Do you smell a foul odor?" she suddenly asked.
"Foul odor?" The man started, then raised his arm to sniff his armpit. 'Hmm, toxic armpit,' he thought.
"Hehe... sorry," he chuckled. "The smell you're detecting might be because I forgot to spray deodorant."
"...Really?" Jones cast a suspicious glance. 'Why hadn't she smelled it just now? This smell... it's like your own mother died in your armpit, how can it be so foul!'
Despite her thoughts, she still had to eat. Brushing off water droplets, Jones pulled keys from her pocket.
She skillfully inserted a key into the lock. The moment it entered, her hand movements froze. The door was open...
'No! Something was wrong!' This thought flashed through her mind.
Before she could react, a large hand smashed through the door. It grabbed her terror-contorted face, lifting her high into the air.
Immediately after, the Tyrant's massive body, like a main battle tank, crashed through the doorframe. Expressionless, it stepped out.
The middle-aged man, right behind Jones, saw the Tyrant's deathly gray skin. An indescribable oppressive aura emanated from its body.
His 'little brother,' proudly erect a second ago, shrank back like a frightened quail. "What in the... what the hell is that thing?!"
The man stared, mouth agape, eyes wide as saucers. He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't obey, leaving him trembling.
Only when the Tyrant shifted its gaze to him did the man forcibly regain control. The instant he did, he didn't hesitate for a second.
He took off running. Though fat, like a small-sized Liangzi, his speed was anything but slow. He vanished in a flash at the end of the street.