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If Henry's senses hadn't been so sharp, he might have missed the momentary flash of irritation on Gitano Dragoneiti's otherwise aristocratic face.
So even vampires weren't perfectly unified.
That was good news for Henry.
The vampire who had fastened the collar on Henry looked exactly like the stereotypical degenerate vampire seen in movies.
A burly man with messy hair and a thick beard—yet he leaned close to Henry's ear like a lover whispering sweet words.
Except the words were pure threat.
> "Mutant… what right do you have to negotiate with us?"
"We say something, you obey. Understand?"
Suppressing the urge to recoil from the foul breath blowing into his ear, Henry ignored the man completely.
Instead he addressed Dragoneiti directly.
"I used to think that with longer lifespans, even if someone wasn't very smart originally, accumulated experience would at least make them more mature."
He tilted his head.
"But apparently there are still idiots who behave like street thugs."
"Is that normal among vampires?"
Dragoneiti seized the opportunity to vent some frustration at his subordinate.
"Some dogs are simply impossible to train."
"Give them a moment's freedom and they break the leash and start biting people."
"Living longer doesn't change that."
"Some creatures don't want to be human. They prefer being dogs."
"After all, living like an animal is much easier than living like a man."
Henry laughed.
"Well, that's certainly educational."
The scruffy vampire was furious.
He shoved Henry hard.
Henry pretended to lose balance, stumbling against the armrest of his chair.
Then the vampire turned toward Dragoneiti.
"Elder, I'm helping you."
"And yet you're siding with a mutant against your own kind."
"How is that right?"
Dragoneiti raised an eyebrow.
"And how exactly did you help me?"
The vampire proudly explained:
"This mutant only dares to speak like that because his body is bulletproof."
"But now his power is suppressed."
"The collar around his neck has explosives inside."
He lifted a small remote detonator.
"At any moment I can blow his head off."
"So now we tell him what to do—and he obeys."
Dragoneiti asked calmly:
"And what exactly do we want him to do?"
The vampire answered immediately:
"Infiltrate the Stark Group."
"Help us control the company."
Dragoneiti looked at him with mild disbelief.
"You just said he needs to infiltrate."
"How exactly does he do that while wearing a bomb collar?"
"We take it off later."
"And once it's off, why would he listen to you?"
The vampire turned to Henry and snarled:
"You better listen!"
"Or I'll kill you!"
Henry raised his hands innocently.
"Of course I'll listen."
"My credibility is as reliable as Jewish merchants worldwide."
Then he lost his composure slightly and started chuckling through his nose.
The sarcasm was obvious.
The vampire's rage exploded.
He grabbed Henry's collar, revealing yellowed teeth as his canines lengthened into fangs.
"You sarcastic bastard!"
"I'll drain you dry!"
"Mutant or not!"
BANG!
A gunshot exploded.
The bullet entered through the back of the vampire's skull.
When it exited the forehead, it left a bowl-sized hole.
Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere—covering Henry's suit.
So much for that Armani suit.
Henry pushed the corpse away and looked curiously at Dragoneiti.
"Does that actually work?"
"Will it kill him?"
Dragoneiti handed the pistol to one of his subordinates and calmly wiped his hands with a silk handkerchief.
"You mean killing him?"
"No."
"He'll recover soon."
"Just extremely hungry."
"But the pain is real."
"We still have nervous systems."
"For discipline, this level is perfect."
He avoided discussing their real weaknesses.
Henry didn't press.
Instead he watched with fascination as the vampire began regenerating.
The man slowly stood up.
A huge crater remained in his skull.
His body swayed awkwardly, like a drunk trying to regain balance.
Watching vampire regeneration wasn't exactly a common opportunity.
Henry carefully observed the process—even the microscopic details invisible to normal eyes.
Even the missing brain tissue began reconstructing itself.
Henry commented casually:
"Looks like his stupidity is natural."
"Not the result of having his brains blown out too many times."
Ignoring the earlier warning that newly regenerated vampires would be extremely hungry, Henry calmly returned to his seat.
As expected—
The recovering vampire lunged toward Henry, desperate for blood.
But Dragoneiti had already anticipated this.
A subordinate quickly brought out a large beer mug filled with blood.
The starving vampire immediately changed targets.
Like a dog chasing food, he abandoned Henry and threw himself at the blood.
He even knocked the mug over in his frenzy.
Then he dropped to the floor, licking the spilled blood like an animal.
The humiliating sight darkened Dragoneiti's expression.
But instead of reprimanding the subordinate, he studied Henry carefully.
Henry's reactions kept surprising him.
He wasn't like those mortals who worshipped vampires and desired immortality.
Nor did he fear their power.
Though that part made sense—Henry belonged to another extraordinary group.
Still, Henry showed zero concern about the suppressor collar around his neck.
Was he simply confident in his value?
Or did he have another reason?
At this point Dragoneiti had already lost most interest in continuing persuasion.
With his experience, he could easily tell Henry had been playing along half-heartedly the entire time.
Allowing his subordinate to interrupt earlier had been another way to probe Henry's mindset.
Unfortunately, the results were disappointing.
Still, he decided to give Henry one final chance.
Pretending not to notice the collar around Henry's neck, Dragoneiti spoke calmly.
"Mr. Brown…"
"It's somewhat embarrassing to admit."
"But newly turned descendants often behave like that fool—impulsive and reckless."
"You must understand…"
"I won't always be there to stop him in time."
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