Duncan made no effort to hide his delight as he observed the creature possessing vampire genes, naming it the "Blood Xenomorph."
Compared to terms like "Reverse Breed," the name was unremarkable, but it held its own when compared to more specialized Xenomorph types like the "Winterbeast Xenomorph."(also known as Ice Xenomorph).
The Blood Xenomorph had the standard appearance of a Drone Xenomorph: it walked upright, stood about 2.5 meters tall, and had a sleek, elongated head with a smooth surface. Its back sprouted numerous enigmatic tubes, resembling technological interfaces meant for large machinery. Its entire body was encased in exoskeletal armor, which was both durable and impact-resistant. Even large-caliber firearms would struggle to inflict serious harm on it.
After all, even a Drone Xenomorph born from parasitizing a regular human could survive hits from such weaponry without sustaining fatal injuries.
Furthermore, the Blood Xenomorph could absorb energy directly through blood, unlike regular Xenomorphs, which needed to consume vast quantities of flesh to sustain themselves.
"In terms of functional hierarchy, the Blood Xenomorph undoubtedly corresponds to the Drone Xenomorph introduced in Alien, a tier higher than the Messenger Xenomorph in its social ranking."
Duncan admired his creation, while the vampires around him were paralyzed with fear.
"What... what the hell is this thing?"
"Parasitic?!"
They recalled the series of terrifying events: a face-hugging spider emerged from an egg, latched onto a victim, died mysteriously, and then, after the host lost consciousness, a grotesque humanoid creature burst from their chest and grew rapidly.
The sequence had a certain logical progression and causality, yet the more they thought about it, the less it made any scientific sense.
At that moment, the vampires finally understood why Duncan had been so concerned about their survival.
But it was too late.
After confirming the success of the parasitic process, the remaining two Xenomorph eggs hatched and completed their parasitic cycles.
Dennis, still clinging to a shred of hope, tried to bargain. He pointed out that Duncan had only three eggs and could parasitize only three vampires. What would happen to the rest?
Surely they wouldn't be used as mere food?
Duncan reassured him with a smile, saying he wouldn't waste them as food. However, he added with a chilling tone, "Don't worry, none of you are getting away."
At that moment, deep within the cavern, a previously dormant presence stirred. The Xenomorph Queen, silent and unmoving until now, suddenly activated. Before everyone's eyes, she began to lay an egg directly from her ovipositor.
"So that's what that tube is for."
Dennis broke down. As the face-hugger leaped toward him, he lost consciousness in despair.
Not long after, six Blood Xenomorphs, far stronger than their vampire hosts, stood obediently before Duncan.
Hungry and ravenous, they waited for his permission before devouring the remains of their hosts.
"All the small animals in the area have been eaten," Duncan mused. "It looks like I'll need to find another way to ensure a steady food supply…"
Soon after, several food companies in New York City began receiving unusually large orders.
The next few days were unusually calm, with no vampires coming to seek trouble. Perhaps they had concluded that their missing brethren had been slaughtered by Blade.
However, Duncan noticed a new development: a group of people moved into the abandoned building next door during the daytime and set up a meat shop on the spot.
Their brazen and unconvincing act of surveillance amused Duncan.
"Surveillance these days is really this blatant?"
"Hey, guys, you know these two buildings are slated for demolition, right? I heard they're going to build a big office complex here," Duncan called out to them.
"Yeah, we know. But until the demolition officially starts, running a meat business here seems pretty lucrative."
Duncan nodded in agreement but quipped, "Then why does your 'cooked meat shop' only sell raw meat?"
This time, the agents didn't respond.
Duncan speculated that cooking the meat would increase costs, impacting their budget. Claiming to sell cooked meat while only offering raw meat allowed them to stretch their funding further.
The "meat shop owner," however, felt extremely unlucky.
As a cheap clone of Dum Dum Dugan, he mimicked the behavior of an eighth-level agent, casually telling people he was FBI. When encountering FBI agents, he'd claim to be CIA. When dealing with the CIA, he'd say he was FBI. Only when both agencies compared notes and started arguing would he reluctantly admit to being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
After all, nobody really remembered what S.H.I.E.L.D.'s full name stood for or what the organization even did.
But this time, he had the misfortune of running into a meticulous and somewhat influential individual—George Stacy.
Damn it! All Stacy did was delegate the initial investigation to the local police department, a routine procedure.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. had to investigate every single suspected supernatural event worldwide, they'd be overwhelmed. Even if Dum Dum Dugan's original body created countless memory-sharing clones, they'd still be stretched thin.
With no choice left, the clone had to handle things personally.
The only silver lining was that their target, protected by Blade, wasn't some indiscriminate killer. At the very least, he had basic principles.
"What level agent are you?"
The target, now leaning out of a decrepit, drafty window, shouted the question.
"Yesterday I was level three; today I'm level two," the clone replied, uncertain whether this mission could be considered a success or failure.
After all, he was just an expendable clone.
At least things were progressing in an orderly fashion. No need to call for reinforcements yet—that was something.
And maybe, just maybe, he could squeeze some extra funding out of that stingy bald man.
Duncan scrutinized the agent across the street and confirmed his identity as someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.
As a special organization monitoring global superhuman activity, S.H.I.E.L.D. had the backing of the five major powers. It was their job to keep tabs on exceptional individuals.
That this agent was so honest surprised Duncan.
"Blade's definitely in contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. He might already be a senior agent."
Blade, after all, would one day become a level ten S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
And Duncan's dealings with Blade had come to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention was no surprise. The existence of Xenomorphs would eventually be exposed—it was impossible to hide forever. This openness prevented S.H.I.E.L.D. from labeling him a high-risk individual, at least for now. And "for now" was exactly what Duncan needed.
Duncan appreciated honest people—they saved him from overthinking.
Especially since he'd learned that the man watching him was named Dum Dum. That made it clear who he was dealing with.
Dum Dum, a level ten agent, shared a single memory archive with his clones, making him an indispensable workhorse for S.H.I.E.L.D.
Duncan didn't mind the close monitoring. In an age where superhumans weren't rare, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s role in investigating and assessing extraordinary individuals was expected.
If the target posed no threat and their abilities weren't overly dangerous, S.H.I.E.L.D. would document the information and withdraw its personnel. As long as no crimes were committed, they wouldn't interfere further.
...
Nick Fury, expressionless, read the report in his hands.
"The target is suspected of conducting secret biochemical experiments, using Blade to secure funding?"
"Yes. According to some officers, he commands strange but powerful creatures and has captured a few vampires alive."
"No, that's not my concern," Fury said, tapping the desk with increased intensity. "What I want to know is how someone like this registered a legitimate biotechnology company and is conducting legal experiments?"
He emphasized the word legal.
Those bizarre creatures were worth attention. In a world crawling with maniacs, anyone bold enough to reveal themselves had to be dealt with carefully.
Fury's meaning was crystal clear as he glared at his old colleague, Dum Dum:
"Whose man is this Duncan?"