Wu Liuqi in Marvel

Chapter 16 The Blade and the Mockingbird

The man named Tommy wasn't in the mess he is today a few days ago.

He mixed him an Amber Dream at the most helpless of Charlie Wells.

Charlie Wells, like the white-haired boy named Feng, fled to the United States because he couldn't get along in his own country.

It's just that the boy's reason for coming to the United States is questionable.

And he's just clueless.

When Tommy first met Charles, his eyes were full of unwillingness, and he used authentic British English to curse some British nobleman he didn't know.

This kind of person is best suited to become a vampire.

It's not the kind of high-ranking one like him, but the inferior one that can only appear in the dark.

He mixed the man a glass of wine for free. Tommy was not short of money. He often did the delivery of wine.

The more troublesome the little ghosts are, the safer the big ghosts will be.

There were very few vampire hunters, and while they were running around for the little ghosts who were killing people everywhere, the big ghosts were sitting in a high-end bar, watching more people drink that glass of amber fantasy.

One second he was immersed in fantasy, and the next second a big black foot fell from the sky.

"It's the smell of a werewolf." The sworn enemy of vampires.

The taste is extremely impure, and the bloodline of this werewolf is extremely rough.

Werewolves and Blades caught him easily, and Charlie Wells was really fast.

Blade didn't notice him at the time, because he didn't know that the wine Tommy sold Wells was a first love.

As for the origin of the amber dream, it was told to him by another colleague.

The guy's name is Mockingbird, and he's one of Blade's one-night stands.

Wells felt his blood was boiling.

Of the sixteen girls he had killed, none had resisted as much as she had.

So what if she is good at fighting?Now he is a vampire, far surpassing ordinary people in speed and strength!

Two pairs of martial arts sticks drew a perfect arc in the air, her movements were graceful, as if she was dancing, and Wells lost his mind for a moment.

He was swung to the ground with a martial stick.

"This woman is a practitioner!"

Wells forgot one thing.

He is an English nobleman who has learned social etiquette and various unpopular knowledge, but he has never learned fighting.

Putting speed and strength on him is like giving a three-year-old a gun, it has no effect.

Wells rushed out of the box.

Can't fight, at least can run.

While running in the carriage, he looked back from time to time, and Wells was relieved that the woman didn't come after him.

"Maybe she's just an ordinary girl who knows a little bit about fighting, and she doesn't mean to kill me."

He thought so in his heart.

The sunlight outside the window was a bit dazzling, and Wells felt his skin was about to burn.

Sunlight!

Don't let the sun shine on me! !

A kind gentleman drew the curtains for him.

"Thank you," Wells said.

The kind gentleman was wearing a pair of dark glasses and had half a cigar in his mouth.

It was the first time in Wilson's life that he saw someone dressed like this. He looked like a Japanese gangster.

On his finger was a pitch-black ring engraved with a chapter from the Bible.In the other hand was a long knife with a dark red sheath.

He was wearing a long black trench coat, and Wilson couldn't see his skin, but he felt that if this man rolled up his sleeves, there must be a ferocious beast tattooed inside.

The man casually leaned the knife against the car seat, and fumbled for something in the inner pocket of the windbreaker.

After a while, he took out a document with a black cover.

The man opened the document, and Wilson saw what was inside.

There is a silver badge pinned to the right side of the certificate. On the badge is a slightly dignified eagle in flight.

On the left side of the certificate is his name, or code name.

Wilson read those few words slowly.

"Blade Warrior, Homeland Strategic Defense Attack and Logistic Support Bureau, tenth-level special service personnel."

Although he didn't know what organization the Homeland Strategic Defense Attack and Logistic Support Bureau was, but judging from the name, this organization might not be very friendly to him.

The man put away his ID and said, "Actually, my identity is highly confidential. I shouldn't have shown it to you, but I made an exception because this is the first time we meet, and also the last time."

His hand rests on the handle of the knife.

Wilson's heart was beating restlessly.

After turning into a half vampire, he had never felt such a powerful pressure.

Wilson stood up from the car seat. At this time, he had broken through the zero point of being a human being.

Black scales covered the whole body, long and pointed fangs protruded from the lips, and the half-inch long claws shone with a sharp cold light.

This is the lowest blood race, unable to maintain even the basic human appearance.

"It's a shame that you can live till now."

"Did you know? The speed and strength of the lower blood races are obtained by burning their lives. They don't have thousands of years of life, but they are just cannon fodder on the battlefield. Even if I don't care about you, you will die for a month at most. , the ridiculous thing is that you think it's a good thing to be in the dark."

"I guess you must feel the blood flowing under your skin right now, hot enough to tear everything apart."

"Unfortunately, your level is too low."

The man drew back the curtains.

The light shines in for a moment.

White smoke rose from Wilson's body, as if he was about to be burned by flames.

Blade drew out a dark red long knife.

The gorgeous slash drew a perfect arc.

Wilson's head fell to the ground, and flames burst into the air.

The head that fell to the ground was still howling in pain.

slowly.

The howling was lost in the flames.

Only black residue was left on the ground, and it was as if Wilson had never appeared.

"We've wasted so much time for this little guy." The werewolf came from another carriage.

Blade dropped the [-]/[-] cigar to the ground, splashing some black residue.

"Don't say that, doesn't this train just arrive in New York? We should thank him, without him, we wouldn't be able to take this ride."

The werewolf said: "You are the boss and you have the final say. Do you still need to investigate that amber dream? Also, your old friend is here, don't you want to say hello?"

Blade lit another cigar.

"No need, we will meet again when we arrive in New York. She should also be here to carry out the task, and she probably will drop by to help us."

The werewolf murmured dissatisfied: "How can there be so many drop-offs, you obviously don't want to see her."

Dao Feng's eyes were cold, and the werewolf held back what he was going to say in the second half.

He didn't care about the werewolf's ridicule, and said to himself:

"Wilson has been running away for so long, and even we have been chasing him for a month. Is this really an incompetent British nobleman? If it wasn't for the first embrace that made his mind stupid, maybe he could be happier for longer."

The werewolf knew that the joy in Blade's mouth referred to Wilson's rape and murder of 16 girls.

He sucked the blood of those women mercilessly, in order to obtain the double pleasure of taste and feeling.

How would the werewolf answer?

Should there be sympathy for those women?
he does not know.

Blade drew a sign of the cross on his chest as a mourning for the dead girls.

"Werewolves, we are law enforcement officers. You have to remember that our lives are worthless. Before you die, kill as many vampires as you can."

He was a little sad, maybe for the dead girls, maybe for his own past.

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(End of this chapter)