Generally speaking, wraiths are classified as White, Green, Blue, Red, and Purple.
Only those of Green rank or higher contain Power of Death that I can absorb.
And before me now, the thirty or so female wraiths surrounding this group of vampires were—without exception—Purple.
It was a sight I had never seen before.
Only those who had endured extreme torment or terror before death could become wraiths of such rank.
Damn it, no—I absolutely can't miss this feast!
Vampires, huh?
Fine. I'll handle vampires.
Through the wraith's eyes, the scene continued. The butler bowed deeply in a distinctly British manner. "Great Count Kolsais, I've retrieved your Blood Pearl from Citibank."
"Oh?"
The leading vampire lifted his hand lazily, and the Blood Pearl floated from the butler's grasp straight into Count Kolsais's palm.
"Gentlemen," Kolsais said coolly, "it seems our fishing plan has failed. Leaving the Blood Pearl in Citibank did not attract a Necromancer."
"Maybe the rumors about a Necromancer in New York were just that—rumors," one vampire said. "Otherwise, how could a Necromancer possibly overlook a Blood Pearl that could advance their power?"
At Count Kolsais's words, another vampire sighed regretfully. "What a shame. If a Necromancer truly existed, then according to our ancestor Dracula's notes, the secret potion they craft could allow us to walk in the sunlight."
He lifted his glass of blood and took a sip, a look of bliss spreading across his face.
"You may leave," Count Kolsais said with a dismissive wave. "And have someone find a few more untouched young girls. Their blood is… far more exquisite."
"As you command, my Lord."
The butler bowed again, backed away respectfully, and turned to leave.
As the wraiths lingered in the underground city, Lynn abruptly sat up in the car.
A Necromancer in New York?
Why had he never heard of that rumor?
And a necromancer's secret potion could let vampires walk in sunlight?
Wait—when those vampires mentioned a necromancer, they couldn't have meant me, could they?
After all, I do have the Secret Potion Creation ability, and it came from Mephisto's notes—the very necromancer's handbook.
In other words, I'm half a necromancer already.
Tsk—this can't just be a coincidence.
No matter. I'm determined to take out that group of vampires. Who turned those thirty-odd female wraiths into Purple-level obsessions if not their victims?
After a quick nod to George, Lynn drove straight to the black market in Hell's Kitchen.
"Eh, the fuck dude, why'd you roll up here without calling first?" Johnny grumbled as Lynn stepped out of the car. "I told you—call ahead. If you attract S.H.I.E.L.D. or other hyenas, I'll have to move the whole operation again."
Ignoring Johnny's complaints, Lynn walked past the men guarding the warehouse and stepped inside.
"Spill it—what do you want this time?" Johnny asked after shooing the guards away.
"I need a batch of gear—things to deal with vampires."
"What?"
Johnny's eyes lit up the moment Lynn said "vampires." "Heeeh~ Why didn't you say so sooner? You want my help hunting vampires? I'll get the stuff ready right now."
"Don't worry—this time I'll only charge you half price."
Mentioning vampires visibly energized Johnny; his hands moved fast as he began gathering supplies.
Everyone knew vampires and werewolves were natural enemies. Johnny, an outcast with black fur driven from his pack, carried that old bone-deep hatred for vampires in his blood.
He pulled out well-packed mithril longswords, mithril bullets, crucifixes, and bottles of holy water that seemed to glow faintly with divine light. Even garlic—Johnny grimaced at the smell but produced a sack of it.
"These are all anti-vampire weapons. I'll throw in a set of capture nets too," he said. "If those mothersucking vampires try to turn into bats and flee, you can use the nets to catch them."
Lynn leaned in, inspecting the bags and gear. "Looks good. How much?"
"Just give them to you at cost," Johnny said, holding up two fingers.
Lynn counted out two thousand dollars and handed it over before loading the gear into his car and driving off.
Watching the Chevrolet disappear down the street, Johnny stared at the cash in his hand, momentarily stunned.
"Boss… didn't you lose money on that deal?" one of his men whispered. "That custom infrared spotlight alone costs more than two grand."
"Fuck!" Johnny slapped his forehead. "I held up two fingers for twenty thousand, not—ah, forget it."
Shaking his head, he shoved the money into his pocket. "Whatever. It's for taking down vampires, anyway."
Grumbling, Johnny trudged back toward the warehouse, muttering darkly to himself. Next time, he swore, he was going to bleed that bastard Lynn dry.
Meanwhile, behind the wheel, Lynn hit the gas and headed straight for his apartment.
Along the way, he couldn't help but marvel at Johnny's generosity—so much gear for just two thousand dollars.
The mithril longsword alone was worth more than that.
Apparently, the hatred between werewolves and vampires ran even deeper than he'd thought.
He carried the bags and boxes up to his apartment.
After entering the passcode and stepping inside, Lynn set the equipment down in the living room, then went to the bedroom and pulled a box from beneath the bed.
Inside were various secret potions he had brewed—slow-acting agents, strength enhancers, and all sorts of concoctions.
After a moment's thought, he took out a few bottles of each.
Even with his Undying Body, Lynn wasn't about to underestimate a nest of vampires.
He had just pushed the box back under the bed when the doorbell rang.
Opening the door, he found Natasha standing there with a bottle of red wine in her hand, smiling. "Hey, handsome. Were you in the middle of something?"
Gulp.
Fuck she's looking amazing... Maybe I can spare an hour or so to have some fun?
"This is a fine vintage, Steve and I got from Stark. You know, the market price for just one bottle like this is several hundred thousand dollars. So… are you really not going to let us in?"
Ugh.. Steve is here too..
Beside her, Steve gave Lynn an awkward smile, as if to say, I tried to stop her, but she insisted.
"Ehm," Lynn hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside. "Come in."
As soon as they entered, Natasha's sharp eyes scanned the room. "Not bad—living alone, and still managing to keep the place this clean and tidy."
Then her gaze landed on the pile of gear on the sofa. "Oh? Stocking up like this—are you planning to go vampire hunting?"
She smirked. "If that's the case, I actually know two vampire hunters. Want me to introduce you?"
_______
(づ￣ 3￣)づ
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