"You must be joking."
Michael Corvin looked at him as if to say, Don't try to scare me with ghost stories.
"Vampires? Werewolves? How could any of that possibly exist? And if it did, why wouldn't the government report it?"
If they were talking about Mutants, Michael Corvin might have believed him outright. Their existence had been officially confirmed, after all.
"Legends don't come from nowhere, Michael. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been passed down for thousands of years without dying out."
"As for the government..." Dilos paused, then continued, "Honestly, based on what you've learned about this country's government over the years, how often have they kept things secret?"
"But it doesn't make sense." Michael Corvin still couldn't accept it. "If my blood can help me adapt to diseases and turn me into a superhuman with extraordinary physical abilities, then why do I still get sick? And why does my body remain ordinary when I do?"
"I've thought about that too. My guess is that your body only changes in response to viruses that don't pose a fatal threat."
Dilos shrugged. "If you insist on proof, you can wait here for a few days. I'll capture a couple of the Werewolves and Vampires nearby, and you can draw a little of your own blood to test it."
"But there's one problem. Once I capture those Werewolves and Vampires, their companions will follow their scent here."
Michael Corvin felt his head begin to throb. He rubbed his temples, wincing. He wasn't a fool. He knew he had no money, no power, and no influence. There were plenty of people like him in the world, yet somehow these people had singled him out.
Michael Corvin had mostly come to believe Dilos, but he still found it hard to accept.
"Can I never