The nights in the slums of Queens, New York, are not particularly lively, and can even be described as quiet, growing quieter as the night progresses.
Apart from the need to sleep, a greater reason is fear.
Ordinary families are well aware of what can happen if they go out in the middle of the night; there is a high likelihood of being attacked, given the prevalence of homeless people, thugs, and gangs here.
To these people, ordinary citizens are merely prey.
In such places, physical disappearance is entirely possible.
Of course, there is nightlife here too, with bars and such places readily available, but they are specific to certain locations.
Each area has its own gangs protecting it behind the scenes, and typical thugs do not cause trouble in those places.
The dim and disorderly streets, with street lamps on either side casting a dim yellow light, vehicles stand still in silence, and the houses at both ends of the street are pitch black with little light.
In some places along the streets, one can see a few figures sleeping huddled up; these are the homeless.
Of course, in some dark alley corners, several figures huddle together, greedily smoking and waiting for their prey.
"Fuck, the stuff keeps getting less, and Sanny, that greedy vampire, keeps raising the price," complains a black man with tattoos, greedily smoking, upset about the decreasing quantity of a component in the cigarette.
Beside him, a white man wearing a cap smokes silently without a word.
Two other companions, both brown-skinned, nod in agreement.
"If it weren't for that guy being just a glove, he would have been taken out long ago for raising prices like this."
"We don't know who's behind him; we can't afford to mess with him. Remember the small gang that tried to rob him? They were mysteriously killed the next evening."
"We just mind our own business, rob some more money, or we can't even afford cigarettes."
As they smoke and mutter, their eyes continuously scan around.
However, as they patiently wait for their prey, unbeknownst to them, death has already stealthily approached. They fail to notice the figure lurking in the depths of the alley.
With light steps, he moves closer, as quietly as a tiger stalking its prey.
In the distance, a car approaches, its headlights casting bright light on the street and dimly illuminating the alley. Just as the thugs' attention is drawn, a hand quietly lands on the neck of a white man, while another hand quickly covers his mouth and nose.
Instinctively trying to struggle, his neck is swiftly crushed by the other hand.
His trachea collapses, and he quickly loses consciousness.
His body goes limp, and the assailant gently places it on the ground, immediately grabbing another thug by the neck and twisting it with a snap, killing him instantly without any reaction. This slight noise immediately alerts the remaining three.
As they turn around in shock, they are met with a fierce assault. The assailant, with explosive speed and reaction that seem inhuman, quickly dispatches two more with precise punches to their necks. Both thugs die instantly, their eyes wide open as they clutch their necks and collapse, their bodies twitching reflexively.
The last thug, visibly terrified, opens his mouth to scream and tries to run.
But the assailant, with relentless speed, overtakes him in two steps. As the thug turns, the scream barely escapes his lips before a punch lands on his throat.
Predictably, his throat collapses, and he stumbles backward a few steps, eventually falling to the ground with a mix of despair, confusion, and terror.
From the first to the fifth killing, the entire process does not exceed ten seconds—smooth and swift, like a professional assassin, cold and merciless.
At this moment, a car finally passes by the alley on the street outside. The driver is completely unaware that five lives have just ended in the seemingly inconspicuous alley.
The killer stands among the five bodies, watching as the car disappears. The dim light from a distant street lamp falls on him, revealing his plain attire—a sports trousers, a hoodie, white shoes with plastic shoe covers, white gloves, a cap, and a mask covering his face.
The slight light from under the hood and brim reveals his cold eyes.
He stands still, seemingly savoring something, quietly for two seconds, then slowly crouches down to search the bodies. He collects all the cash from their wallets but leaves behind jewelry and watches untouched.
The men also had handguns, which he does not take.
After gathering the cash, he casually pockets it and then turns to walk slowly into the depths of the alley, his figure gradually swallowed by the darkness as his light footsteps fade away, leaving everything eerily silent.
Inside an apartment, Bi Xiao sits on a sofa, a small table in front of him laden with cash and assorted coins.
From one cent to fifty cents, $1 coins, and bills ranging from $1 to $100.
Bi Xiao has counted them, totaling $2,130 in bills and about $50 in coins.
It's a substantial sum, especially in the year 2000. Even in New York, where an average family's monthly income is around $3,000 for a family of four or five, expenditures on necessities like food, clothing, housing, and transportation typically total around $1,000.
In terms of food, chicken breast costs $1.50 per pound, and prime beef costs $3.50 per pound. A typical family of seven only needs to spend about $150-160 on a major weekly grocery haul to sustain themselves.
This era's prices in America are not considered high, especially in a place like New York.
For someone like Bi Xiao, who has a house and pays no rent, monthly expenses are even less. However, his situation is different now; although he lives alone, the nutrients he requires have changed completely from his previous self.
Especially after he killed those five thugs, his physical strength surged again, with an increase far more significant than before.
He has roughly calculated that the life essence obtained from these five people is about ten times more than that from the several dozen of cockroaches he previously killed, but the enhancement in physical strength is not proportional, providing an increase of only about 1 to 1.5 times.
But it also proves one thing: the previous hypothesis that the difference in vitality between individuals should be comprehensive.
This means that the higher the life level of the individuals he kills, the more life essence he gains, and the greater the enhancement benefits.
Gurgling sounds from his stomach indicate hunger, a "side effect" of the enhancements from absorbing life essence.
He needs to maintain nutrition to support his now superhuman physical condition.
Clearly, he will need to spend a substantial amount of money on food in the future.
Bi Xiao rubs his stomach and stands up to walk to the old second-hand refrigerator, which contains over $100 worth of food he purchased—prime beef, lamb, chicken breast, vegetables, and more.
However, with investment comes return, and his returns are remarkably significant.