You had to hand it to these vampires—tough eardrums.
The club's music was deafening, but even after Cohen emptied two full magazines, turning dozens of vampires to dust, the rest were still dancing, completely unaware.
It wasn't until he shot the DJ, causing the music to cut out with a jarring screech, that the vampires finally realized something was wrong.
A few of the braver ones lunged toward him, but Cohen sent them straight back to hell with a bullet between the eyes.
He didn't charge recklessly. Instead, he planted himself at the front entrance, finger tapping rhythmically on the trigger.
Every shot he fired found a target. Each pull of the trigger claimed another vampire.
Panic erupted.
The remaining vampires scrambled toward the back of the stage, shoving through the rear exit in a desperate attempt to escape. Just as they burst through the door—
A blinding purple light exploded outside.
Those in front disintegrated instantly into a cloud of ash, their forms vaporized by ultraviolet death.
The rest shrieked and stumbled back into the club, wailing like tortured banshees.
At the front, Cohen calmly reloaded for the second time. Seventy rounds fired, and already half the vampires in the club were dead.
In his mind, the system notifications were chiming non-stop.
The remaining vampires, now utterly desperate, charged him in a frenzy—but Cohen was ready.
With a flick of his wrist, he scattered a fistful of silver powder into the air. The fine, glimmering dust floated like a glittering mist, forming an invisible wall of agony.
The moment the vampires touched it, their skin erupted in searing pain. Those unlucky enough to inhale even a bit dropped to the ground, clutching their guts and screaming in agony.
He emptied a third magazine.
The dance floor was a wasteland. Not a single vampire left standing.
The few survivors cowered in shadows, hiding behind furniture, tucked into corners—either preparing to strike or simply hoping to be forgotten.
But under Cohen's infrared vision, they lit up like candles in the dark.
He strolled through the club, calm and methodical, firing shot after shot until every last creature was reduced to ash.
And then—
A stunned voice broke the silence behind him.
"Motherf—what the hell happened here?"
Cohen turned around.
Standing at the entrance was a tall Black man in a black leather trench coat, a sword strapped to his back, dark sunglasses masking his eyes. He held a large shotgun, scanning the room for a target—but there were none left.
Blade.
A slow smile crept across Cohen's lips. "You're late. I already took care of tonight's vampire buffet."
Blade narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
"I'm the one and only vampire hunter—Nightstalker. Never heard of me?"
Blade paused, raising an eyebrow. "No. I've only heard of the Daywalker."
Cohen's grin widened. "Daywalker, huh? Yeah… I've heard of him."
"But a real man dares to face the strongest enemies. Who cares about walking during the day? I'm best at killing in the night!"
"I fight the monsters hiding in the dark. That's why they call me Nightstalker!"
Blade looked puzzled. "Uh, Daywalker doesn't mean that. I kill in the dark too. The name's just meant to scare vampires…"
"Oh?" Cohen's eyes lit up.
He stepped forward and extended a hand. "So you kill people too? Then we're both criminals. What a pleasure to meet you, Blade."
Blade shook his hand with a blank expression. Cohen rummaged through his coat and finally pulled out a business card.
There was only a simple phone number on it… and a cartoon demon face.
"This is my number. Hit me up if you ever wanna go kill someone together. Anyway, I got stuff to do. See ya, bye!"
He turned and walked off through the back door, where David was already waiting. They got in the car and drove away.
Blade stood in the doorway, still holding the card, completely dumbfounded.
Then—
"Quick! Someone called the cops! There might be a murderer inside!"
Footsteps pounded from behind, followed by a shout: "Hey, you in the trench coat! Hands where I can see them!"
Blade rolled his eyes. "Great. Didn't even get the fox, and now I'm covered in fleas."
…
On the drive back, David handled the wheel while Cohen eagerly pulled up the system interface.
A series of notifications popped up in front of him.
[Task Completed…]
[Task Completed…]
Finally, the screen froze on two mission summaries:
[Mission Complete]
Target Rank: Bronze
Promotion: None
Cause of Death: Gunshot
Freshness Rating: ★☆☆☆☆
Final Emotion: Fear
Emotion Intensity: ★★★☆☆
Overall Mission Rating: ★★☆☆☆
Reward: Bronze Two-Star Reward Pack
[Congratulations! You've triggered the "First 20 Consecutive Kills" reward. Free Attribute Points: +20]
[Achievement Unlocked: "Hundred Kills"! Special Achievement Pack Granted.]
Then came the most exciting part—opening the loot.
Thanks to slaying over a hundred vampires in one go, Cohen had earned a full ten Bronze-level reward packs.
Most of them were Level 1 or 2, with Level 3s being rare.
He opened them all in one go.
[You've received: Basketball Mastery, Assault Rifle Mastery, Swimming Proficiency, Singing & Dancing Proficiency, and 32 Free Attribute Points.]
Basketball mastery?
Cohen glanced at his physique stats and then down at his tall 6'3" (1.9 meters) frame.
"Why the hell am I playing superhero? I should be dunking in the NBA!"
Tens of millions of dollars a year, hot celebrity girlfriends, sports cars, yachts, and those infamous silver parties...
Come to think of it, hasn't that big guy "Warden" been dominating the league the past two years? Time to knock him off his throne?
"Celtics' eight-peat? Screw it—I'll bring home eighteen straight!"
Wait a minute. Singing, dancing, basketball… if the system adds rap next, it's definitely grooming me to become a pop star.
He shook off the thought and opened the special achievement pack.
[Reward Unlocked: Ability Upgrade Card]
Now that was something valuable. As the name suggested, it allowed him to upgrade any one of his current abilities.
He reviewed his four current powers:
Night Vision
Compound Eyes
Dragon's Breath
Infrared Vision
He immediately ruled out Night Vision and Infrared—both were basic scout tools.
Compound Eyes was one of his strongest powers right now, especially when paired with firearms—it gave him near-360° peripheral targeting.
Then there was Dragon's Breath…
Sigh. Still no chance to flirt with Kingpin's wife last time, so it hasn't seen much use yet.
But both Compound Eyes and Dragon's Breath boosted combat power—hard to choose.
After some thought, he went with Dragon's Breath.
After all, his scouting powers were decent. Now, with Martial Arts Mastery and Handgun Mastery, he had solid offensive capabilities—but his defense? Not so much.
If upgrading Dragon's Breath meant hardening his body like steel, he'd become an absolute tank.
With a single thought, he selected Dragon's Breath.
A warm current surged through his veins.
In the system panel, the ability changed:
[Dragon's Breath → Berserk Mode]
He didn't gain the ability to harden his entire body like armor.
Instead, "Berserk Mode" was a burst-type ability—allowing him to instantly double all of his physical stats in a moment of need.
His regular physical enhancements still worked as usual, but now he could also perform an ultimate burst, channeling a portion of his Dragon's Breath outward to form an indestructible fist-shaped energy imprint, capable of striking enemies from a distance.
However, the move was incredibly draining and couldn't be used frequently.
Once he spent his newly earned attribute points, Cohen's overall strength had undergone a massive leap.
[Character Profile]
Name: Cohen
Age: 22
Bloodline: Human
Status: Normal
Attributes:
Strength: 26
Speed: 26
Defense: 20
Endurance: 20
Mental Capacity: 30 (Max limit for human bloodline)
Skills:
Martial Arts Master
Handgun Master
Trap Expertise
Swimming Expert
Basketball Master
Assault Rifle Proficiency
Underwater Combat Proficiency
Sniping Adept
Singing & Dancing Adept
Abilities:
Night Vision
Compound Eyes
Dragon's Breath: Berserk Mode
Infrared Vision
Inventory: None
Dungeons: Locked
Parallel Universe Travel: Locked
Main Quest: "Those who sin must be punished."
Current Hunts:
Black Iron-tier Targets: 15 / 19
Bronze-tier Targets: 4 / 25
Latest Quest: Silver-tier Hunt Unlocked
Cohen read through the stats, nodding with satisfaction.
"Feels like I've finally got some real firepower," he muttered to himself, cracking his knuckles.
The road ahead was long—and it looked like the real hunt was just getting started.
Silver-Tier Target: 0/1
Credo: "Through slaughter, comes redemption."
Cohen frowned.
His mental state had now hit 30, and the system had prompted him: You have reached the upper limit for the human bloodline.
He felt a twinge in his teeth. So if I want to keep improving… Does that mean I need to get bitten by a vampire?
That sounded like a terrible deal.
Sunlight? Deadly.
Garlic? Deadly.
Silver? Also deadly.
And the worst part? As far as he knew, there was no way to acquire a different bloodline—at least not one that didn't involve serious side effects.
Even if I run into something later, bloodlines are tied to birth... What am I supposed to do, reincarnate myself in a lab?
That left the system's gacha as his only hope.
The night wind whistled past the car windows. Cohen leaned back in the seat, a quiet frustration on his face.
Elsewhere, in the shadows—inside a lavish, dimly lit office…
Floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to the glittering skyline beyond.
A deep voice broke the silence.
"Wesley, how's the plan coming along?"
Wesley's tone was composed but precise.
"So far, I've reached out to Scorpion McDonald, Jumper Batroc, Mr. X from the Assassin's League, and your foster daughter, Echo.
Originally, I also wanted to contact John Wick… But apparently, he's retired."
He paused briefly, then continued.
"That said, the people we have now are enough to form a highly lethal kill squad.
But… are you sure about this?"
From behind the desk, Kingpin stood up slowly, the silhouette of his massive frame illuminated by the city lights. A glowing cigar sat between his thick fingers as he stepped toward the glass.
"You think this is all just about Vanessa?" he said calmly, staring out the window.
Wesley remained silent.
Kingpin exhaled a long stream of smoke. The mist clung to the glass before slowly curling downward.
"No. It's not just about him ruining my first date with Vanessa.
Not just about him daring to provoke me.
Not even about him slipping out of my grasp."
He turned slightly, voice cold and heavy.
"It's because that man… will bring us serious trouble."
"He's already a wanted criminal across the city," Wesley said calmly. "The NYPD is hunting him. Every major gang is looking for him too. He hasn't shown up in Hell's Kitchen for days—not since…"
"Since he fought me," Kingpin finished, a cold smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"For all these years," he said slowly, turning back toward Wesley, "very few people have ever escaped me."
"Don't underestimate him, Wesley. Don't make the mistake of thinking he's just some punk who goes around killing street-level thugs."
He stepped closer to the glass, his heavy frame casting a long shadow behind him.
"I have a feeling… he's going to change Hell's Kitchen. Maybe even all of New York City."
Kingpin's voice dropped, every word ice-cold and absolute.
"And I will never—ever—allow someone that dangerous to exist."
Wesley stood quietly for a moment before nodding.
"…Understood, boss."
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