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When Blade picked up a rag from who-knew-where, dipped it in water, and was about to wipe Abraham Whistler down, Black Super immediately stopped him.
"Get a fresh bucket of clean water," he said. "Then use the gauze from the first-aid kit to clean the blood off Whistler.
"If you really want him dead, just put a bullet through his forehead. No need to watch him suffer through infection and fever for half a day. Of course, if the two of you have some deep personal grudge, then forget I said anything."
Blade looked at the rag in his hand—something that might have wiped down engines or floors for all he knew—then at Whistler glaring daggers at him.
For once, Blade took advice.
But the moment the two men turned their heads and blinked, they saw Black Super walking back from afar with a pile of items in hand.
Blade stared blankly. "How did you…"
"I left some things in the car. Went out, grabbed them, came right back. Quick trip."
"You drove—…forget it. Never mind."
He had originally wanted to ask when exactly the guy had arrived by car. Then he realized trying to investigate these things was stupid and let it go.
Black Super returned to Whistler's side, casually dragged over a rack, and dumped the supplies onto it. Then he brought over something like a clothes stand and hung a bag of blood-red fluid from it, preparing a transfusion for the old vampire hunter.
Blade's sharp senses immediately told him something was off.
Pointing at the red bag, he asked, "What's that? That's not plasma."
Black Super replied, "Artificial plasma. It only acts as a temporary substitute. Recovery still depends mainly on the patient's own blood-forming ability. So for vampires, it's completely useless."
He glanced at Blade again.
"Hey, my connections aren't that good. You think ordinary people can casually get medical plasma whenever they want? If it saves him, that's enough. If you care so much, send him to a real hospital."
Blade's mouth twitched.
"Do whatever you want."
Ignoring the permanently annoyed-looking man beside him, Black Super looked at Whistler, who already seemed somewhat better.
"Whistler, next I'm going to inject you with Embrace Serum to solve the transformation issue.
"I'm also giving you anesthetic so I can operate and reduce the pain.
"Afterward I'll move you somewhere safer to recover. This place is compromised now. No telling when vampires might come back."
Whistler's immediate response was:
"Damn it, if you had anesthetic, why didn't you use it first?!"
Black Super shrugged.
"The lie would be that I wanted to see whether your mouth was tough enough, and whether you really wanted to live."
Then he added:
"The truth is… I forgot."
Even though his face was completely hidden beneath a black hood, everyone somehow felt like they could see the smug expression underneath.
It made people want to punch him.
Whistler had only just begun to curse with a word starting in F when Black Super jabbed a syringe into his neck.
The old man instantly blacked out.
Blade's eyes widened so much even his thin-framed sunglasses couldn't hide it.
"What the hell did you inject him with?"
"Oh. I accidentally used the anesthetic first. Should've given him the serum before that."
Then he calmly used another syringe and injected the same spot again.
Blade stared.
"What kind of anesthetic knocks someone out instantly? Aren't those things supposed to take ten to fifteen minutes? That kind of immediate collapse only happens in movies."
"This is my own custom formula. Strong anesthetic. Specially designed for road rage, hysteria, and unreasonable people.
"Can't use too much, though. Otherwise they get summoned by the Lord."
Blade's teeth ached just listening.
He tossed aside the gauze in his hand.
"Give me a few liters. I could use that stuff. Does it work on vampires?"
"A few liters? What are you planning, drinking it?"
Black Super snorted.
"Using this on vampires would be a waste. Just use vodka. Or industrial alcohol."
Then he added:
"Besides, do you know where you're going to kill them?"
"You said it yourself—that's what I'm good at."
Blade picked up the videotape labeled PLAY ME.
"If this is a trap to lure me in, then the message should include a location.
"I don't think they'd leave riddles and patiently wait for me to solve them. Deacon Frost isn't as composed as the older bloodsuckers."
Black Super took out a plastic bag from among the supplies he brought and handed it over.
"If you're going vampire hunting, here are some little cuties I'm sponsoring."
Blade's eyes lit up.
He opened the bag and pulled out three differently shaped objects glowing with deep blue light.
Grenades?
"What are these?"
Black Super answered proudly:
"Melon Type One, Two, and Three. All prototypes.
"Like the UV bullets, they're filled with ultraviolet-radiation solution.
"But I increased the concentration. In theory, stronger lethality."
He pointed one by one.
"Type One is an airburst model. If it rolls on the ground after being thrown, it automatically bounces to a preset height before exploding.
"Type Two is cluster type. It detonates in nine waves. More than the three-wave version I used when supporting you before. Helps kill vampires hiding in their companions' shadows.
"Type Three is concussion type. It also includes flash and sound."
Then he grinned.
"Use them on this trip and help me test which are useful and which are trash."
He paused.
"Now, about this Deacon guy wanting to hold some ritual and evolve himself. And you're part of the ritual?"
Blade replied:
"That's what Whistler told me. The details should be in the decrypted files.
"The ritual comes from the ancient Book of Erebus—the Vampire Bible."
Black Super thought for a moment.
"I highly doubt an ancient ritual specifically says it requires sacrificing you by name.
"So what they actually need must be some trait connected to you.
"What do you think it is?"
Blade answered immediately.
"The Daywalker…"
"Mmm."
Black Super nodded.
"To many vampires, walking under the blazing sun is a dream. An impossible one."
Then he changed tone.
"If that's the case, I suggest you prepare methods beyond ultraviolet weapons. In case something unexpected happens."
Blade frowned.
"Is that necessary?"
Black Super explained:
"I don't know the ritual process.
"If they gain the ability to walk in sunlight before the ritual is complete, and you're only the final step, then UV bullets and grenades won't be reliable anymore."
That statement was actually a deliberate misdirection meant to produce the correct result.
After all, Black Super couldn't exactly say:
The Blood God is definitely coming, and he won't fear sunlight or silver.
Blade nodded.
"I understand."
Black Super asked again:
"Do you have a backup safehouse? I need to move Whistler somewhere secure.
"If not, I'll take him to my place for now."
Blade replied:
"Take him with you first. Once he recovers, we'll figure it out.
"I don't even know whether any of Whistler's backup spots are safe."
"Fair enough."
Black Super pointed toward the nearby computer.
"You know how to contact me with this junk.
"And after you kill the vampires, don't forget."
He grinned.
"I'm waiting to hear your review of the new weapons."
Knowing someone was expecting his return, Blade flashed his signature bright white smile.
"I know."
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