Massacre

It's truly ironic.

Salvatore is a vampire, but he suppressed his urges when he felt a craving for his own kind. He actively sought his own death to avoid becoming something other than himself.

Meanwhile, some humans worship the power and long lifespan of vampires. Instead, they actively seek opportunities to become vampires themselves, even willing to use their human identities to serve them, all for a chance at the First Embrace—even if it means giving up the ability to walk in sunlight and having their future meals be their own kind.

Take Salvatore's plane ticket for instance; it was provided by a vampire worshiper. There was no need for any ulterior motives or special arrangements, as that would alert the ever-vigilant S.H.I.E.L.D. Many unrelated humans were ordered to buy several tickets for each flight. Once the Parker couple boarded, the ticket for that specific flight would be handed over to Salvatore. For people like them, there's a very fitting, albeit somewhat dated, term: the Ha-gui tribe.

Salvatore's unusual behavior caught the attention of the flight attendants. An older flight attendant, who was a beauty when she started thirty years ago, walked over and asked, "Sir, is there anything you need?"

The former Blood Clan member smiled, his handsome appearance making him quite charming. The flight attendant felt a flutter in her heart beyond her professional duties, but Salvatore's words sent a chill down her spine: "I need to kill two people, and then kill myself."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents' muscles immediately tensed. They would only intervene if Salvatore's targets were their wards or if it involved them; otherwise, they would observe like bystanders.

A mission is a mission, and everything is secondary to the mission.

Allowing personal feelings to interfere with a mission or meddling in matters outside its scope is a major taboo for agents—a lesson learned through countless predecessors' blood and tears. Otherwise, even if they survived the mission, they would face disciplinary action and be permanently transferred to administrative roles. This would not only mean a halving of their salary but also the loss of lucrative side income from corrupt activities, leading to a flood of problems like car and mortgage payments.

The Parker couple were not meddlesome busybodies. They hadn't been active as agents for years, but their ingrained professionalism wouldn't let them rush in, as it would create unnecessary trouble.

Before the agents could act, an air marshal, disguised as a regular passenger, stepped forward, pulled out a taser, and pointed it at Salvatore, saying, "Sir, please remain in your seat with your hands raised."

But Salvatore had no intention of complying with the air marshal's order. He smiled again, and his body began to transform.

Accompanied by a large amount of high-temperature steam, Salvatore morphed from his human form into a monstrous one. A humanoid Bat, predominantly dark red with black accents, appeared in his place. The violent expansion of air created an explosive sound. The smoothly flying plane lurched, and alarms blared.

Passengers in the adjacent seats were scalded and cooked by the high-pressure steam before they could escape. The flight attendant and the air marshal were blown back, crashing into the cabin walls or seats. Some flammable materials began to ignite.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents immediately sprang into action, pulling the Parker couple and other passengers who could still move from their seats and urging them to run away from Salvatore. They drew their weapons and aimed at the slowly rising, nightmarish humanoid Bat.

But how could these weapons, designed to incapacitate targets and incapable of even piercing the plane's fuselage, inflict any effective damage on Salvatore? They could only watch helplessly as the two-meter-tall monster slowly stood up, then walked towards them through a barrage of bullets as if they were mere raindrops.

Salvatore casually swatted away the weapon from one S.H.I.E.L.D. agent's hand, severing the agent's arm in the process. Before the agent could even scream in pain, Salvatore grabbed him by the throat and lifted him to his mouth, his massive fangs piercing the agent's neck.

Moments later, the agent, now a desiccated corpse, was dropped to the floor. Salvatore wiped the blood from his lips and said with great regret, "It was supposed to be delicious food, but now it tastes like water from a rusty tap."

Then Salvatore began his bloody slaughter. Unarmed humans were no match for vampires, let alone a powerful pure-blood noble among vampires, especially one who had injected Amazon Cells for further enhancement.

For a time, screams of terror echoed endlessly throughout the cabin. A few passengers, driven to the brink of madness by extreme fear, wielded whatever they could find and attacked Salvatore in vain, only to meet their deaths.

The cabin of the plane was not spacious. Even if the other passengers desperately tried to escape and hide, where could they go? Civilian aircraft do not allow for parachuting. Setting aside the lack of parachutes, even if passengers brought their own, the moment they opened the cabin door to jump out, they would be sucked into and shredded by the engines.

Even for an emergency landing, the nearest airport was still half an hour's flight away, not to mention contacting ground control.

In Wei Xiuming's private mechanical laboratory within the Osborn Industrial Park, Wei Xiuming, who was sketching blueprints, put down his pencil and took out his phone from his pocket. The caller ID showed an unknown number.

His phone was specially made; not only could it stop bullets, but its number was also confidential. Unless one knew the correct dialing method, even Nanbowan, the world's number one in phone scams, couldn't get through.

Only a handful of people knew his contact information, including Doom, whose full name was unknown, Norman Osborn, the heads of the major laboratories at the Osborn Group, and Nick Fury.

After connecting the call, a gentle male voice came from the other end: "Is this Mr. Kent Clark? My name is Phil Coulson, from S.H.I.E.L.D. Your phone number was given to me by Nick Fury. He said you would believe me once I revealed my identity—are you free right now?"

Glancing at the newly designed Knight System suit, Wei Xiuming said, "Of course, I have plenty of time. Why did he have you call me?"

"Yes, but Fury didn't tell me the specifics; it's beyond my clearance. Coulson paused and continued, "According to what Fury allowed me to disclose, it should be related to a failed S.H.I.E.L.D. mission. Fury asked me to invite you to a place, saying it's related to something you warned him about."

"I understand. Where should we meet?" Wei Xiuming picked up the gas mask beside him, stood up, put on his white lab coat, and walked out.

"The transport is parked in Zone B-2 of the Osborn Industrial Park parking area. It's very conspicuous; you'll see it when you arrive."