Chapter 3
The headquarters building of the Saint Shield Foundation.
Downtown Seattle, a 47-story black glass curtain wall, looks like a sharp blade piercing the clouds.
I pushed open the revolving door and walked into the hall. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and oil paintings of the conglomerate's past leaders hanging on the walls, each face as cold as iron.
The receptionist was a young woman. Blonde, wearing a business suit, with an arrogant look in her eyes.
Do you have an appointment?
I handed her the access card. She swiped it, glanced at the screen, and her expression changed.
"Commander of the Night's Watch?" The voice rose eight octaves. "Please...please wait a moment. Supervisor Kyle will be here shortly."
She pointed to the sofa next to her: "Please wait here."
I stood still.
"Make me wait?"
The receptionist smiled, a professional smile, but her eyes were cold: "Sorry, it's the rule."
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was two o'clock in the afternoon.
I sat down.
Half an hour later. Kyle still hadn't arrived.
The receptionist answered more than a dozen calls, each time deliberately raising her voice: "Yes, the Night's Watch Commander is still waiting." "Yes, he's been waiting for thirty minutes." "Commander Kyle is dealing with important matters."
Security personnel passing by glanced at the scene, whispered among themselves, and some even laughed.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and suppressed the faint burning sensation in my chest caused by the stigmata.
Forty minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
A bald, middle-aged man stepped out. He had a thick beard, bulging muscles, and a scar on his neck. His eyes were pale gold—a characteristic of a half-blood slave.
Kyle. Security chief. Followed by five burly men in black combat suits, each over 1.9 meters tall, their muscles bulging so much they seemed to burst out of their clothes. Genetically modified elites.
Kyle walked up to me, looking down at me: "You're the new commander? Lucius Gray?"
I stood up: "It's me."
Kyle looked me up and down, his eyes full of disdain: "A veteran? A dockworker?" He turned to the elite behind him and said, "See this? This is the 'Night Watch Commander' that the president hired. A penniless pauper in a cheap suit."
The five elite soldiers burst into laughter.
Security personnel gathered around, and more and more people, over a hundred, watched me like I was watching a circus.
Kyle patted my shoulder, a firm pat: "However, the conglomerate has rules. A new leader must pass an assessment. Defeat five of my elite soldiers, and you'll be the leader. If you can't—"
He lowered his voice, a hint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes: "Go back to your junkyard."
I looked into his eyes. Pale gold, with a blood-red ring deep within the pupils—the mark of a half-blood slave.
I took off my suit jacket, folded it neatly, and placed it on the sofa.
"Let's go together."
The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted in laughter.
"What did he say? Attack them all at once?" "Is he crazy?" "Those are genetically modified elites!"
Kyle's smile vanished: "Are you sure?"
I flexed my wrists: "I'm in a hurry."
Kyle's face darkened. He pulled out his phone, quickly sent a message, then turned to the five elite soldiers and said, "Did you hear that? He wants you all to come at me together. Well then—don't hold back."
Five elite soldiers grinned simultaneously. They pulled syringes from their waists, plunged them into their necks, and blue liquid gushed into their veins. Muscles began to swell, veins bulged, and eyes turned bloodshot. Their breathing sounded like that of wild beasts.
The crowd automatically stepped back, making way for an open space.
Kyle leaned against the wall and whispered into his phone, "Lord Valerius, he'll be crippled soon."
The first elite soldier rushed over, his fist like a cannonball aimed straight for my face.
I turned to the side, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it behind my back.
Click.
His elbow snapped backwards. Before he could even scream, my knee was already slammed into his abdomen. The sound of ribs cracking was like crushing potato chips. He flew out, slammed against a marble pillar, slid to the ground, and never got up again.
The second and third pounced at me simultaneously, attacking from both sides. I didn't dodge. I grabbed one by the neck with my left hand, crushed the other's knee with my right, and swung him violently. The two bodies collided, the sound of bones shattering echoing through the room. They fell to the ground, convulsing in pain.
The fourth one attacked from behind. I countered with a backhand elbow strike to his temple. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out instantly.
The fifth one froze, staring at his fallen companion, his eyes shifting from fierce to fear: "I...I admit it—"
I punched him in the chin. Crack. His jaw dislocated.
He collapsed.
Half a minute later, five bodies collapsed to the ground.
The entire room was deathly silent. No one spoke, no one dared to breathe. Everyone stared at me, their eyes shifting from contempt to shock, then to fear.
I turned and walked toward Kyle. He was leaning against the wall, his face pale and his legs weak.
"You...you are not an ordinary person..."
I stepped on his chest, and he fell to the ground.
What did Valerius give you?
Kyle trembled, his lips shaking, "I...I don't know what you're talking about..."
I increased the pressure on my foot. Crack. Ribs split open. Kyle screamed.
"explain."
“Immortal life…he promised me immortal life…” Kyle’s eyes turned red, and fangs emerged from his gums. “He said that if I help him get rid of you…I can become a true vampire…and no longer be a half-vampire slave…”
I grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up: "What did you send him?"
Kyle coughed up blood, his eyes filled with venom: "The conglomerate's defense map... and Miss Seraphina's schedule..."
My hand tightened: "Her schedule for today."
Kyle grinned, black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth: "It's too late... The Blood Slave Squad has already set off... She will die... and you will die too..."
Bang--!
I punched him in the stomach. He curled up like a shrimp and fell to the ground.
The elevator doors opened. Serafina stepped out.
She was dressed in a black suit, her chestnut hair styled in an updo, holding a tablet computer in her hand, with two bodyguards following behind her. She glanced around the hall, looking at the five elite soldiers lying on the ground, and then at Kyle, who was slumped on the floor.
Then they applauded.
Applause echoed through the hall.
“Excellent.” She walked up to me, her eyes sharp as knives. “Kyle colluded with the vampires, deliberately making things difficult for the new leader. All the evidence has been collected.” She told the bodyguard, “Take him away.”
Two bodyguards stepped forward and dragged Kyle away. Kyle struggled and roared, "Seraphina! You'll regret this! The vampires won't let you get away with this! Lord Valerius will—"
Bang.
The bodyguard delivered a karate chop to the back of his neck. Kyle passed out.
Serafina turned to look at me, her eyes like she was dissecting a corpse: "Your speed just now... it wasn't human. Who are you?"
I hadn't had a chance to answer yet—
boom--!
A violent explosion was heard outside the building.
The glass curtain wall trembled, the ground shook, and flames shot into the sky. Serafina rushed to the window.
Outside the building, the conglomerate's convoy was parked on the roadside. Three black Maybachs were engulfed in flames.
Six figures in black trench coats emerged from the shadows. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their fangs gleamed coldly in the firelight. The leader was a tall, thin man with a bald head, a spiderweb-like scar on his face, and pure black eyes—the mark of a high-ranking blood slave.
He walked to the burning Maybach and used his claws to cut through the bulletproof glass. The glass shattered. Inside, Serafina's bodyguard lay in a pool of blood.
The tall, thin man looked up and, through the glass curtain wall, his gaze precisely locked onto Serafina.
Then he grinned.
Serafina's phone rang. She answered it.
Valerius's deep voice came from the other end of the phone: "Miss Serafina, I'm sorry, your bodyguard is dead. But don't worry—my people will find you soon. Kyle has already sent me all your schedules for today, including where you are right now."
The call ended.
Serafina looked at me with a complicated expression: "It seems he doesn't just want to kill you. He wants to kill us."
I walked towards the elevator: "You stay here. I'll take care of it."
Serafina grabbed my arm: "You alone? They are a high-ranking blood slave squad, immune to physical attacks, twenty times faster than ordinary people, and strong enough to tear apart armored vehicles. You will die."
I looked into her eyes. Chestnut brown—like the girl who was kidnapped by vampires in the slums ten years ago.
"Won't."
I shook off her hand and stepped into the elevator.
The elevator doors opened. First floor lobby.
The six blood slaves turned their heads at the same time, their scarlet eyes staring at me as if I were their prey.
The tall, thin man grinned: "You're the veteran who crippled the Viscount's manpower? Lucius Gray?"
I flexed my wrist: "It's me."
“Very good.” He licked his fangs. “The Viscount said to take your bones apart one by one. Starting with your fingers.”
He lunged forward with incredible speed, leaving a blur in the air. His claws were only three inches from my throat—
I raised my hand.
Smack
She grabbed his wrist.
The tall, thin man was stunned: "How is this possible..."
I twisted hard. Snap. My wrist broke. Then I punched him in the chest. He flew through the glass curtain wall and crashed to the ground.
Forty-seven floors. Free fall.
Bang.
Blood blossomed on the ground.
The remaining five blood slaves exchanged a glance and pounced at the same time.
I took off my gloves.
The stigmata on his chest began to heat up.
On a distant high-rise building, the informant monk held up a telescope, the lens reflecting a cold light—he was recording everything.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Then--
Open your eyes.
