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Chapter 25: The Balancing Scales
The Old Bartender trembled as he tried to drink, unable to pry open the bottle several times. Finally, Tony helped him open it, urging the Old Bartender to continue.
During that time, the Old Bartender's father truly went mad. He secretly captured Vampires for experiments, hiding by day and emerging at night, wanting to uncover the secret of Vampire Immortality and assessing the possibility of transferring this ability to himself.
Following the content deciphered from the Skin Cloth, he extensively captured Vampires and ordinary people for experiments. He had completely fallen into a state of hysteria, having abandoned everything for Deification.
"Back then, I was only a few years old. Logically, I should have been marked and become a member of the Ghoul Tribe, but at that time, no one cared about a clueless little child. Everyone was drawn to my father," the Old Bartender said.
The Vampires finally discovered the anomaly at the Old Bartender's house, secretly dispatching personnel to investigate, and ultimately getting their answer.
To obtain the truly deciphered content, they still pretended not to know, even creating various coincidences, providing convenient hunting grounds for the Old Bartender's father, and sending more experimental subjects his way.
Finally, after he deciphered the last of the text, the Vampires made their move. They stormed into the Old Bartender's family home under the cover of night, carrying out a massive slaughter that annihilated their entire clan overnight.
Only the Old Bartender was sent out through a secret escape passage by his father in advance, thus surviving.
"That old man knew he was being watched long ago; he knew everything," the Old Bartender said. "He was deliberately conducting his research, deliberately showing the results to the Vampires to entice them and provide assistance for his studies. He knew exactly what the Vampires were doing, otherwise, he wouldn't have sent me out beforehand on the night of the attack. The timing was too perfect."
"But you just said your father went mad for Deification," Tony said, feeling that the Old Bartender was hiding something. "There's no reason for him to put himself in danger."
The Old Bartender shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. "I've never been able to understand it all these years," he said. "He knew everything, he clearly wanted to obtain everything, but why did he seem to give up everything?"
Tony glanced at him, remaining silent, his mind racing with many thoughts.
Someone was manipulating him, orchestrating a major conflict between him and the Vampires. He had initially thought it was merely using the Vampires to eliminate him, or using him to weaken the Vampires. Tony had even suspected that S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra agents were behind the schemes, but now, upon reflection, the implications ran far deeper.
Tony was guided to the Vampire Stronghold to find and extract the Old Bartender, thereby learning about the Vampire Clan's God-Making Plan.
The Vampires captured the Old Bartender and threw him into their Stronghold; they needed him. However, the Old Bartender was now in Tony's hands, and Tony wouldn't hand him over unless absolutely necessary.
Two perfectly opposing ends were thus formed, with the Old Bartender acting as the lever in the middle.
"What did that Vampire from the Thompson Family take from you?" Tony asked.
"It was the last piece of Skin Cloth, stored in my necklace. I'd worn it since I was a child, and I only learned that there was such an important item in it when they found me," the Old Bartender said. He had lived a hard life these past years, constantly on the run and living under an assumed name, fearing the Vampires would come looking for him, but ultimately, he was found.
"Since you are so important, why didn't the Thompson Family secretly imprison you, but instead threw you into a Stronghold?" Tony asked, his mind filled with doubts and a touch of anxiety. He had never been so thoroughly outmaneuvered, put at such an absolute disadvantage.
He had never had this kind of experience before; it was truly troublesome.
The Old Bartender claimed he didn't know. That important figure dispatched subordinates to search for and take his necklace, then threw him into that bar, saying they would come back for him after a while and warning him not to try to escape, or he would die a truly miserable death.
"To get food and drink, I started working as a bartender in that bar. For decades, I've been on the run, mostly working in various small bars and illicit factories, which is why I'm good at mixing drinks," the Old Bartender explained, opening a third bottle of beer. He hadn't had such a satisfying drink in a long time, unlike being constantly on edge with the Vampires, having to sleep with one eye open, fearing a Vampire would come in the middle of the night and treat him as Blood Food.
Tony stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent.
The key to the matter was the murdered Administrator. New York City was too vast, with more than one Scrapyard. So the question was, were all the Administrators compromised or swapped out, or only the murdered one?
Alright, even if it was through psychology and psychological modeling, that guy calculated Tony's most likely Scrapyard destination based on Tony's usual habits—which was nothing special in modern psychology—the murdered Administrator specifically waited for Tony just to give him this address, guiding him to find the Old Bartender. But how could they be so sure Tony would definitely go?
Tony could have simply used the most straightforward method: buying junk cars and assembling and upgrading them himself, instead of seeking out some Master Mechanic. Or, upon arriving at that small bar, Tony might have cautiously observed for a few days and then spotted the problem.
The reality was, no, Tony simply didn't do that. He just casually walked in.
Tony, sweating profusely, let out a wry laugh and also opened a bottle of beer, drinking it by himself.
The reason for this choice was simple. There were countless bars in all of New York, and that was just counting those operated by people with business licenses and connections. How many more small bars, private bars, and gang-operated bars were there?
Tony drove there in Optimus Prime. All his personal electronics, like his phone and watch, had been meticulously modified by him using the Allspark; when assembled together, they could withstand rocket launcher attacks. Would Tony hesitate and be cautious, acting fearfully, just because of a tiny bar?
Impossible. New York was teeming with countless bars. Could Tony, a dignified High-Level Mutant who carried an army of Mutants with him, possibly observe every single bar for several days before entering, for the rest of his life?
If bars were like this, what about KTVs, shops, or restaurants? Would he still go to them? He might as well not leave his home for the rest of his life; it would be best to find a deep mountain forest and live in seclusion.
The crucial point was, he still didn't even know who was manipulating him.
The Old Bartender lay in the corner, already sound asleep, surrounded by a pile of wine bottles, some only half-empty, spilling onto the ground with a gurgling sound.
Tony looked at the Old Bartender, his expression unreadable.
He and the Vampires were like two ends of a scale; they both had reasons to obtain the Old Bartender. The Vampires needed to interrogate the Old Bartender for details and information. Tony, already at odds with the Vampires, certainly wouldn't let the Old Bartender go and risk him revealing his intelligence. He also needed to hold onto the Old Bartender as a bargaining chip against the Vampires.
The Old Bartender was the balance beam on the scale, making it destined that neither side could reach a deal through him.
Now Tony had another choice.
Kill the Old Bartender, and completely snap the scales.
(end of chapter)
The Old Bartender trembled as he tried to drink, unable to pry open the bottle several times. Finally, Tony helped him open it, urging the Old Bartender to continue.
During that time, the Old Bartender's father truly went mad. He secretly captured Vampires for experiments, hiding by day and emerging at night, wanting to uncover the secret of Vampire Immortality and assessing the possibility of transferring this ability to himself.
Following the content deciphered from the Skin Cloth, he extensively captured Vampires and ordinary people for experiments. He had completely fallen into a state of hysteria, having abandoned everything for Deification.
"Back then, I was only a few years old. Logically, I should have been marked and become a member of the Ghoul Tribe, but at that time, no one cared about a clueless little child. Everyone was drawn to my father," the Old Bartender said.
The Vampires finally discovered the anomaly at the Old Bartender's house, secretly dispatching personnel to investigate, and ultimately getting their answer.
To obtain the truly deciphered content, they still pretended not to know, even creating various coincidences, providing convenient hunting grounds for the Old Bartender's father, and sending more experimental subjects his way.
Finally, after he deciphered the last of the text, the Vampires made their move. They stormed into the Old Bartender's family home under the cover of night, carrying out a massive slaughter that annihilated their entire clan overnight.
Only the Old Bartender was sent out through a secret escape passage by his father in advance, thus surviving.
"That old man knew he was being watched long ago; he knew everything," the Old Bartender said. "He was deliberately conducting his research, deliberately showing the results to the Vampires to entice them and provide assistance for his studies. He knew exactly what the Vampires were doing, otherwise, he wouldn't have sent me out beforehand on the night of the attack. The timing was too perfect."
"But you just said your father went mad for Deification," Tony said, feeling that the Old Bartender was hiding something. "There's no reason for him to put himself in danger."
The Old Bartender shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. "I've never been able to understand it all these years," he said. "He knew everything, he clearly wanted to obtain everything, but why did he seem to give up everything?"
Tony glanced at him, remaining silent, his mind racing with many thoughts.
Someone was manipulating him, orchestrating a major conflict between him and the Vampires. He had initially thought it was merely using the Vampires to eliminate him, or using him to weaken the Vampires. Tony had even suspected that S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra agents were behind the schemes, but now, upon reflection, the implications ran far deeper.
Tony was guided to the Vampire Stronghold to find and extract the Old Bartender, thereby learning about the Vampire Clan's God-Making Plan.
The Vampires captured the Old Bartender and threw him into their Stronghold; they needed him. However, the Old Bartender was now in Tony's hands, and Tony wouldn't hand him over unless absolutely necessary.
Two perfectly opposing ends were thus formed, with the Old Bartender acting as the lever in the middle.
"What did that Vampire from the Thompson Family take from you?" Tony asked.
"It was the last piece of Skin Cloth, stored in my necklace. I'd worn it since I was a child, and I only learned that there was such an important item in it when they found me," the Old Bartender said. He had lived a hard life these past years, constantly on the run and living under an assumed name, fearing the Vampires would come looking for him, but ultimately, he was found.
"Since you are so important, why didn't the Thompson Family secretly imprison you, but instead threw you into a Stronghold?" Tony asked, his mind filled with doubts and a touch of anxiety. He had never been so thoroughly outmaneuvered, put at such an absolute disadvantage.
He had never had this kind of experience before; it was truly troublesome.
The Old Bartender claimed he didn't know. That important figure dispatched subordinates to search for and take his necklace, then threw him into that bar, saying they would come back for him after a while and warning him not to try to escape, or he would die a truly miserable death.
"To get food and drink, I started working as a bartender in that bar. For decades, I've been on the run, mostly working in various small bars and illicit factories, which is why I'm good at mixing drinks," the Old Bartender explained, opening a third bottle of beer. He hadn't had such a satisfying drink in a long time, unlike being constantly on edge with the Vampires, having to sleep with one eye open, fearing a Vampire would come in the middle of the night and treat him as Blood Food.
Tony stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent.
The key to the matter was the murdered Administrator. New York City was too vast, with more than one Scrapyard. So the question was, were all the Administrators compromised or swapped out, or only the murdered one?
Alright, even if it was through psychology and psychological modeling, that guy calculated Tony's most likely Scrapyard destination based on Tony's usual habits—which was nothing special in modern psychology—the murdered Administrator specifically waited for Tony just to give him this address, guiding him to find the Old Bartender. But how could they be so sure Tony would definitely go?
Tony could have simply used the most straightforward method: buying junk cars and assembling and upgrading them himself, instead of seeking out some Master Mechanic. Or, upon arriving at that small bar, Tony might have cautiously observed for a few days and then spotted the problem.
The reality was, no, Tony simply didn't do that. He just casually walked in.
Tony, sweating profusely, let out a wry laugh and also opened a bottle of beer, drinking it by himself.
The reason for this choice was simple. There were countless bars in all of New York, and that was just counting those operated by people with business licenses and connections. How many more small bars, private bars, and gang-operated bars were there?
Tony drove there in Optimus Prime. All his personal electronics, like his phone and watch, had been meticulously modified by him using the Allspark; when assembled together, they could withstand rocket launcher attacks. Would Tony hesitate and be cautious, acting fearfully, just because of a tiny bar?
Impossible. New York was teeming with countless bars. Could Tony, a dignified High-Level Mutant who carried an army of Mutants with him, possibly observe every single bar for several days before entering, for the rest of his life?
If bars were like this, what about KTVs, shops, or restaurants? Would he still go to them? He might as well not leave his home for the rest of his life; it would be best to find a deep mountain forest and live in seclusion.
The crucial point was, he still didn't even know who was manipulating him.
The Old Bartender lay in the corner, already sound asleep, surrounded by a pile of wine bottles, some only half-empty, spilling onto the ground with a gurgling sound.
Tony looked at the Old Bartender, his expression unreadable.
He and the Vampires were like two ends of a scale; they both had reasons to obtain the Old Bartender. The Vampires needed to interrogate the Old Bartender for details and information. Tony, already at odds with the Vampires, certainly wouldn't let the Old Bartender go and risk him revealing his intelligence. He also needed to hold onto the Old Bartender as a bargaining chip against the Vampires.
The Old Bartender was the balance beam on the scale, making it destined that neither side could reach a deal through him.
Now Tony had another choice.
Kill the Old Bartender, and completely snap the scales.
(end of chapter)
