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墨書 Inktalez
The next day, Shasha returned to the company to request a business expansion trip to San Francisco. After exchanging greetings with Erika, he took a car to San Francisco. His first stop was not at his employer's home, but at a remote auto repair shop.
The repair shop was located in the southern part of downtown San Francisco, near the coast. A quick inquiry with the taxi driver led him to the place, and since there was a repair shop, it was only natural that Shasha would find the person he was looking for.
As Shasha got out of the car, his first glance at the repair shop revealed a disheveled old man with a limp, leaning against a wooden bench and drinking cheap liquor. Despite his unkempt appearance, this man had once been a fierce vampire hunter; he shared the same name as Blade—Abraham Whistler.
Walking straight toward the repair shop, Shasha's footsteps caught Whistler's attention. The old man turned his gaze toward Shasha, a hint of confusion crossing his face. After all, who would come here alone if they were just getting their car repaired?
"Young man, this is an auto repair shop," Whistler said, implying that if he wasn't here for repairs, what was he doing?
"I'm looking for Eric Brooks," Shasha replied with a smile, surprising Whistler with the name.
After a moment of surprise, Whistler's expression turned cold. "There's no one here by that name. Please leave."
"Mr. Whistler, I mean no harm. I'm here seeking help; you should be able to sense that I'm not a vampire," Shasha tried to ease Whistler's guard while showing his goodwill.
Whistler pondered for a moment before responding coolly, "It seems you've done your homework to find this place. Since you're here seeking help, let's see what it's about."
"I know your enemy is vampires, and mine is too. I've received a mission from a mother who lost her daughter, and the target's name..." Shasha paused as he spotted a familiar figure approaching him. "Is Daken Feast."
Hearing that name, the familiar figure spoke in a deep voice, "Whistler, let me handle this matter."
Whistler shrugged and continued drinking from his cheap liquor bottle.
The figure led Shasha into the repair shop while Shasha observed him closely from behind.
A Black man with a muscular build, wearing a black trench coat, carrying a silver knife on his back and two heavy handguns at his waist.
Of course, who else could it be but Blade?
"Although I have vampire genes, I am essentially still human," Blade explained after they entered his room and Shasha had been observing him for some time. The implication was clear: he didn't consider himself special in any way.
"You misunderstood. I just wanted to see if you are as I've heard, and it seems that you are."
Although the words were somewhat convoluted, Blade didn't think much of it as he opened the refrigerator. "What do you want to drink?"
"Thank you, a can of beer," Shasha replied, and the beer flew toward him, which he caught effortlessly.
Showing off a bit made Blade raise an eyebrow. "Not bad."
"If a killer doesn't have some skills, how could they dare take on missions?" Shasha said with a smile after taking a sip of the beer, then casually sat down on the sofa.
Blade didn't mind Shasha's familiarity. Holding the beer, he leaned back on the sofa with his legs crossed and said slowly, "I know you must have investigated me before coming here. So let's skip the small talk. Since you've chosen to cooperate with me, all actions must follow my lead. Any objections?"
Shasha shook his head but suddenly asked curiously, "We just met for the first time. Why do you trust me?"
"Intuition, even though it sounds ridiculous." Lazily taking another sip of beer, Blade leaned closer to Shasha and looked directly into his eyes. "I believe that eyes never lie. If you had just told a lie, you'd already be dead."
Shasha smiled wryly; indeed, there was no easy opponent in Marvel. After a moment of reflection, he heard Blade say slowly, "I have no objections, but if we encounter special circumstances, I will choose to act alone."
Blade thought for a moment and nodded. "No problem."
"When do you plan to act?"
"Tonight at 9 PM. We'll meet at Victoria Bar in the city."
After Shasha left, Whistler limped into Blade's room and took the beer thrown by Blade without hurrying to open it. "Do you trust that guy?"
"At least I haven't seen any malice from him," Blade replied calmly. "Though I'm used to working alone, I wouldn't mind having an extra hand that won't hold me back."
Whistler nodded and muttered something unrelated, "Ordinary weapons can't harm vampires."
Ordinary weapons cannot harm vampires, and Shasha knows this well. Real vampires fear sunlight, garlic, holy water, and pure silver, so these elements must be included in the weaponry.
Blade's weapons are all laced with silver; even the bullets are infused with garlic essence, making them lethal upon impact.
Of course, this is effective against ordinary vampires, but those of a higher level require something much stronger.
Shasha is not familiar with the crafting of equipment, so naturally, it is Whistler who handles everything.
When Shasha met Blade at 9 PM that night, the latter tossed her an object.
Shasha caught it; it was heavy. Before she could examine it, she heard Blade say casually, "This is a vampire weapon crafted for you by Whistler. As for the price, you can discuss that with him after the operation."
Shasha raised an eyebrow; just from the weight alone, it seemed the price would not be cheap.
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