The Extraordinary Life of a Certain American Comic...

into the eye.

Glass shattered.

Then, under the watchful eyes of Locke and the others, the Blade Warrior, having recovered from his injuries and donned his full set of equipment again, wearing sunglasses, with two swords stuck in his back, and holding a black girl in his arms, his expression like a snarling chimpanzee, streaked across the sky.

The Blade Runner, holding a black woman in his arms, traced a graceful arc in the air before landing on the rooftop of an apartment building twenty meters away.

"this……"

"Boss?"

Debbie snapped out of her daze and looked at Locke beside her.

Locke looked away.

Just then.

The gunshots came from the floor above the broken window.

Locke looked up again and saw Brown, whose left hand was in a cast, standing at the window firing in the direction of Blade.

pity.

Every shot missed its mark.

Locke glanced at the hospital building with a playful expression, then looked at Blade, who had already leisurely carried his girl away.

"Debbie."

"Boss?"

"You've found out what happened, Jack. Come with me."

"it is good."

Locke turned around, got back into the car, and with Jack in tow, stepped on the gas and drove straight away from the hospital.

He came to the hospital because Blade was there.

Now that Blade has left, what is he still doing here?

Are you seeing a patient?

I'm sorry, but as far as I can remember, he doesn't seem to have any friends who are hospitalized here.

The car was traveling at 80 miles per hour.

Locke drove Jack straight towards Blade's lair, the abandoned machine repair warehouse.

An hour later.

Locke got out of the car, looked around the warehouse, and then his gaze fell on the warehouse door in front of him, which was covered with rust.

"Jack, knock on the door."

"receive."

Jack walked straight over and knocked on the warehouse door.

However, he knocked for almost a minute, but the warehouse didn't open and no one responded.

Jack turned his head: "Boss."

Locke chuckled, his gaze shifting upwards to the security camera in the upper right corner of the warehouse door: "Abraham Whistler, you can choose to open the door now, or wait for me to take the search warrant and blow this door up."

Three seconds after the words were spoken, the warehouse door in front of them slowly opened with a thud.

An elderly white man with white hair, but who looked quite well, appeared in their line of sight, holding a shotgun.

Jack saw the hunting rifle in Blade's adoptive father's hand and instantly reacted, drawing his gun and aiming it at the old man in a second.

"Damn it, put down your gun, now."

"Jack, put the gun down."

Locke reached out and pressed down on Jack's right hand, which was holding the gun, and said with a smile to Blade's adoptive father, "Abraham Whistler? Locke Underwood, Blade's ally."

Upon hearing this, Abraham Whistler looked at Locke, who exuded gentlemanly manners, and gave a cold laugh.

"ally?"

"Yes, didn't Blade tell you?"

"I said so."

"But Blade got fooled by you, I won't."

Abraham Whistler stared coldly at Locke.

Locke raised an eyebrow.

"cheat?"

"Dicken wasn't killed by Blade, you killed him. You're trying to pin the blame on Blade."

Compared to Blade, who has been physically battling vampires since he grew up, Abraham Whistler has experienced far more than Blade.

After Blade returned that night, he told Blade what had happened, and Blade knew what the other person was up to.

Although he and Blade also wanted to kill Dickon Frost and wipe out all the vampires in New York City.

but……

One was killed voluntarily, and the other was killed passively; these are two different things.

The most important thing.

Blade returned that night severely injured, and after recounting his experiences, he fell into a coma.

Abraham Whistler almost used up all the serum in the store to pull Blade back from the brink of becoming a vampire.

and so!

He must be insane to have a friendly attitude towards the Sentinel Special Operations Bureau, which harmed his own son.

Locke listened to Abraham Whistler's accusations, blinked in confusion, and then asked Jack beside him, "Jack, does our operation report say that Blade killed Dickon?"

Jack honestly shook his head: "That's not what I said, it's just a possibility."

Locke nodded and looked at Abraham Whistler with a sincere expression.

"Mr. Whistler, you see, you've misunderstood."

"..."

I'm not misunderstanding anything.

I've eaten more salt than you've eaten rice.

Abraham Whistler remained expressionless and ignored Locke.

Just then.

With a roar, a classic black sedan drifted to a stop in front of the abandoned warehouse, and Blade got out of the car carrying the black woman who was already bleeding profusely.

When Blade saw Locke and Jack standing at the door, he paused for a moment, then quickly walked into the warehouse.

"Find the serum quickly, she was bitten by a vampire."

"Varied……"

Abraham Whistler was also shocked upon hearing this. After glancing at Locke, he put down his shotgun and turned to help Blade.

Jack watched the two men walk into the warehouse.

"Boss?"

"Let's go in and take a look."

Locke chuckled and, with Jack in tow, walked into the warehouse.

Compared to the haphazardly piled-up car parts outside, the warehouse was neatly organized.

The parts were neatly stacked.

Industrial-style fitness equipment made from on-site materials.

A computer, a satellite map of New York City, and two single beds that resemble cots.

After Blade placed the unconscious Black woman, who had lost too much blood, on the single bed, Abraham Whistler immediately grabbed a syringe and injected it into the bleeding wound on the Black woman's neck.

soon.

The wound on the black woman's neck began to sizzle and smoke.

The black woman lay on the bed, groaning in pain.

"What is this?" Jack asked curiously upon seeing this.

Abraham Whistler did not speak.

Blade, however, said in a deep voice, "The antiviral serum can suppress the vampire virus, but whether she will become a vampire depends on herself."

Compared to the thoughtful Abraham Whistler, Blade, who has always enjoyed slashing vampires since childhood, had it much simpler.

In Blade's mind, whoever cuts down a vampire is his friend.

It's that simple.

It was a lie that Nick Fury tricked him into joining the ship by claiming they were of the same race because of their skin color; the real reason Nick Fury provided him with intelligence support to kill vampires was that he was actually being lured aboard by Nick Fury.

As for what Abraham Whistler told him after he woke up yesterday—that the Sentinel Service was using him as a tool—he didn't care at all.

Again.

As long as you kill vampires, we're friends!

……