Vampire?
At the same time, another alert popped up—this unconscious girl before him was actually a Bronze-tier target!
Target?
Did this girl carry some sin?
Or was it because... she was a vampire?
If that was the case, even the lowest-level vampire started at Bronze rank.
Thoughts surged in Cohen's mind, but facing the temporarily innocent girl, he decided to do his best to save her.
If all else fails... kill her and claim the reward pack.
Digging through memories from his past life for knowledge about vampires, a flash of insight hit him: allicin!
"David, get me some pharmaceutical-grade allicin right away."
"Got it!"
As a top hacker, David quickly found a nearby pharmacy and rushed out without hesitation.
In the movie Blade, when the heroine was bitten, the protagonist's adoptive father Whistler used allicin injections to suppress her transformation.
But the success rate was only fifty percent.
Even if it worked, this method could only delay the change for a few days—eventually, a proper serum injection would be necessary.
David soon returned with the allicin, and Cohen injected it into the girl.
Now it was a waiting game to see if she could hold on.
David watched the whole process and said, "Is that it? I get that garlic can ward off demons, but what about holy water? The cross? Any other methods? This is nothing like the exorcisms I imagined."
Cohen shot him a glare and lowered his voice. "She's not possessed by a demon—she was bitten by a vampire!"
David looked puzzled. "Vampires? Do they really exist?"
"They've been around for thousands of years. Their bodies are stronger than ours, they have more wealth than us, and they survive by drinking our blood. Compared to them, big capitalists seem kind and gentle."
"So, don't they control the whole world?"
"Not quite. The night belongs to the vampires, the day belongs to humans.
Anything that can't see sunlight is ultimately just sewage scum.
But they do have enormous power and many human followers."
Cohen paused for a moment. "David, check what she did yesterday, who she met.
Find the vampire who bit her, and look up their address."
David understood immediately. "Got it!"
Cohen didn't waste time either.
Working with David, he rented a fairly large old boathouse by the Hudson River, filled with equipment he had picked up along the way.
He had plenty of guns and bullets; even the sniper rifle that had once injured Daredevil was stored there.
He bought an electric furnace to melt silver and made hundreds of silver-plated bullets, plus a pair of sharp daggers that gleamed with silver light.
Though his title was "Martial Arts Master," Cohen was proficient with all common melee weapons.
Vampires in the Marvel world, while far stronger than ordinary humans, with long lives and immortality, had very clear weaknesses.
Ultraviolet light, silver weapons, and allicin could easily kill them.
He loaded the silver bullets into magazines and holstered two Glock 17s at his waist.
David called with news—he'd found an address.
The bitten girl had gone to a bar in Hell's Kitchen the previous night. Around three or four in the morning, she left the back door of the bar, held by a boy about seventeen or eighteen.
Cohen had secretly set up a camera there.
In the dark alley behind, the boy and girl kissed passionately.
Then the boy bit her neck.
The girl struggled, begged, and screamed, but it was useless. After drinking her blood, he tossed her aside like a rag.
Two hours later, she got up, staggered, and left the alley.
David hacked into the bar's front door cameras. The boy drove off in a Ferrari.
The camera caught the license plate; David traced the car owner and found an address.
Brooklyn—a high-end neighborhood.
Cohen drove his old pickup and circled a villa three times.
The gate was locked tight, windows sealed, with thick curtains blocking the sunlight. It looked perfect for a vampire's nocturnal lifestyle.
He went around to the backyard, parked, then sprinted forward, easily climbing over the two-meter-high fence.
Looking up, Cohen saw the second-floor window was open, with only a thick curtain blocking the light.
The villa's exterior had several ledges, making it easy for Cohen to climb up.
Through the curtain came steady breathing—it looked like someone was asleep.
Silently, he pulled back the curtain, revealing a luxurious bedroom. On the bed lay the boy.
What a coincidence.
Cohen flipped up and sat on the boy's chest, a silver-plated dagger lightly pressed against his throat.
"Sizzle…"
The smell of seared flesh hit him.
The boy woke in pain, his eyes flashing red. Feeling the silver blade on his neck, he dared not move rashly.
"Who are you?"
"Yesterday, at the Blue Rose Bar, a girl got bitten. That person—could it be you?"
"Who are you? Some Elder Council enforcer? She's just a farm girl from Ohio. I checked—she's dead and won't cause any trouble!"
Cohen gripped the boy's jaw tightly. "I'm no damn enforcer. I'm here for one purpose: to kill you, and your whole family!"
The boy trembled violently, eyes wide. "W-why? Who are you..."
Feeling the fear shaking under him, Cohen raised an eyebrow. "Scared? Good."
He tightened his grip, and the silver dagger plunged into the boy's throat.
The vocal cords were severed; the boy could only make muffled sounds. The silver blade caused heavy damage, nearly stripping away his strength to resist.
Cohen dragged him off the bed toward the window.
The boy shook his head wildly, blood spilling everywhere, weakly slapping Cohen's arm—useless. He was hauled to the window.
"Clatter!"
The curtain was thrown open.
The weather was bad today—cloudy skies.
Even so, blue smoke began rising from the boy's body.
He convulsed, trying to crawl into the shadows. Cohen grabbed his collar, pulled out the dagger, and threw him out in one motion.
The boy's body broke down like an onion—first the skin cracked, then the muscles dissolved, and finally, the bones turned to ash.
"Crack."
The door behind Cohen opened. A little girl clutching a rag doll appeared.
He paused, but before he could react, the girl let out a sharp snarl.
Like a spider, she crawled up the doorframe to the wall.
Her movements were incredibly fast, blurring as she lunged at Cohen.
"Bang, bang, bang."
Three shots.
Since ascending to Master of Pistols, Cohen's accuracy had skyrocketed.
Where once he struggled to hit vampires—creatures with physical prowess far beyond normal humans—at barely fifty percent, now within pistol range his hit rate surged to eighty or ninety percent.
The vampire girl was fast, but she was too close.
At seven steps out, the gun was fast.
Within seven steps, the gun was both fast and precise.
After three shots, the vampire girl's left leg and foot each bore a bleeding hole as she collapsed to the ground.
Sunlight streamed through the window, and wisps of blue smoke began to rise from her body.
"Clatter!"
Cohen drew the curtains shut.
The vampire girl, howling in pain, felt the agony lessen. Confusion filled her eyes—until the next second, when a syringe plunged sharply into her neck.
A diluted allicin solution—garlic extract—effective in prolonging life and heightening emotional states.
At that moment, a middle-aged couple finally appeared at the doorway.
Seeing the scene inside, the woman bared sharp fangs and her nails grew pointed, lunging toward Cohen.
The man gripped a large shotgun, aiming it at Cohen—
"Boom!"
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