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The slaughter continued. The Ghoul Tribe was numerous, numbering around a hundred. To dare to assemble a small force of about a hundred individuals, armed with various heavy weapons, in a place like New York, without reliable backing, would truly be impossible. In a metropolis like this, countless eyes were watching. Without a powerful backing to erase their traces, they couldn't expect a good outcome.
Though the Man in Glasses harbored deep resentment towards the forces behind him, feeling that despite his unwavering loyalty, he had been cast aside like trash, which truly chilled him to the bone. If the Man in Glasses knew there were satellites watching from above, he would likely be even more despairing. He was a pawn; the vampires didn't even bother to conceal his whereabouts, brazenly sending him forth.
Many major powers were silently monitoring the situation's progress via satellites. They watched scene after scene of this small-scale warfare, which resembled nothing less than a slaughterhouse, incredibly bloody. Several metal giants scythed down lives in rows, like harvesting wheat, leaving hardly anyone with an intact corpse. Those who were lucky enough to survive pathetically clutched their mangled limbs, a tragic smile appearing on their faces, having lost all will to live. Everyone who witnessed this scene drew in a sharp breath. It wasn't that they hadn't experienced warfare before, but such a brutal spectacle still filled them with immense trepidation. This mechanic's abilities were astonishing, and his methods had grown increasingly ruthless, showing no regard for the lives of his enemies.
"How did he become like this, growing increasingly ruthless..." Nick Fury muttered, rubbing his forehead as he watched the satellite feed. "He was clearly a law-abiding citizen with no prior record, yet he's become increasingly decisive in his kills. It seems he possesses an astonishing adaptability to such matters. I had thought that after spending some time with Charles, he might be influenced to rein himself in a bit..."
"So, when do you plan to visit him?" Agent Coulson's tone remained gentle; this scene hadn't significantly impacted him. He had keenly observed the young man's composure when Tony first awoke in the hospital, noting that Tony hadn't panicked despite abruptly stepping into the supernatural world. In fact, his composure was almost unnatural. Agent Coulson, after much thought, could only attribute it to a state of cold apathy following the sudden upheaval in his family and life.
"Arrange a helicopter for me; I'm going now." Nick Fury was always decisive and swift. He intended to act immediately and wait at Tony's home. This wouldn't seem abrupt, as the Old Bartender still resided there, and the entire area was already heavily but covertly surrounded by S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents. No vampire or Ghoul Tribe member would be able to get in.
Tony, commanding from the center, unleashed his Transformers for several charges, scattering the Ghoul Tribe members, tearing their courage to shreds, leaving them in constant terror. Should anyone miraculously survive, they would surely be left with a lifelong, lingering nightmare. Even if they managed to escape, they would likely never dare to make an enemy of Tony again.
"Die! Die! I'll blow you to hell!"
A Ghoul Tribe member, feigning death, patiently waited for Tony. He had bombs strapped to his body, intending a suicide attack to directly blow up Tony, their controller. He seized the opportune moment, lunging close to Tony and resolutely detonating the explosives. With a massive bang, Tony was thrown head over heels by the sudden, colossal explosion, landing covered in dust and grime.
Many of the surviving Ghoul Tribe members cast hopeful glances, but their hopes were quickly dashed. Tony coughed and rose to his feet as if nothing had happened, merely looking a little disheveled. His body was covered in small transformer armor, and combined with his increasingly powerful physique, it was more than enough to keep him safe.
"That was careless... I must learn from this in the future..." Tony remarked, his expression placid as he backhanded a shot, blowing away another human traitor who had charged at him, risking his life. He was diligently analyzing his gains and losses, determined not to repeat the same error. History had told him countless times that even the most insignificant individual could create astounding miracles. On the increasingly brutal battlefields at every level, he had little room for error or self-reflection. A single oversight in a confrontation with some powerful figure could easily lead to his demise. Tony understood his shortcomings. He forced himself to mature rapidly, shedding the laughable innocence and purity of his past. He now surveyed his surroundings with the utmost vigilance.
Amidst the firefight, a car abruptly turned and sped away, its horsepower maxed out within seconds, abandoning everyone else to escape on its own. A few Ghoul Tribe members still alive and prone on the ground cursed furiously. Despair washed over them; fighting with their lives only to be betrayed and abandoned by their own kind was the surest way to crush their morale. Tony no longer needed to intervene. They had already lost the will of warriors. Their high-ranking leaders had abandoned them and fled, so what motivation was left for them to fight?
Some began to rise, throwing down their weapons and kneeling on the ground, raising their hands in surrender. The dozen or so survivors followed suit, all kneeling and raising their hands—a gesture understood by any race, truly a universal language.
Tony hesitated for a brief moment, but then steeled himself and opened fire. The last dozen Ghoul Tribe members still collapsed into a pool of blood, their eyes wide open, reflecting a lingering, incredulous despair.
"If you were vampires, perhaps I might even accept your surrender, but you are human traitors."
Tony mumbled to himself, letting out a soft sigh, finding his own words utterly hypocritical. He knew in his heart that it was nonsense; even if vampires truly surrendered to him, he would act even more decisively, without a shred of hesitation. Vampires reproduced at an astonishing rate; an unchecked vampire could swiftly assemble a Vampire Army, and these new vampires would, in turn, convert even more humans, causing their numbers to skyrocket exponentially.
The Man in Glasses's vehicle sped wildly. He incessantly urged the Driver to go faster, his heart filled with trepidation, lacking even the courage to glance backward. He simply kept demanding more speed. Terror gripped his heart, fearing that a few shells would thunder in from behind, blasting him to pieces, and then everything would truly be over.
Tony did indeed intend to do just that. He squinted his eyes as one of Optimus Prime's arms instantly reconfigured into a massive cannon muzzle. Within the barrel, a huge metallic projectile had already taken shape. Even if it didn't explode, being struck by that thing would surely pulverize a person. He took aim at the retreating shadow, the car kicking up a cloud of dust.
Just then, a figure appeared without warning, completely astonishing Tony! Someone was faster than Tony! So fast that it was impossible to even discern what it was! In what felt like an instant, time itself seemed to halt. The Man in Glasses and his Driver were already flung before Tony, sporting expressions of utter bewilderment. The vehicle, still moving into the distance, quickly lost control and overturned by the roadside.
"You're that... mechanic?" This was the Silver-haired Youth who had instantly materialized before Tony, as if spatial distance were a mere joke to him. His speed was countless times faster than a bullet, every action completed in a flash. Everything in the world appeared to him in slow motion. He stood with his arms crossed, chin raised, looking at people with a sneer, a truly obnoxious demeanor.
"The old man specifically told me to look out for you, so from now on, you're my little bro." The Silver-haired Youth was incredibly arrogant. He peered at people with a disdainful gaze, as if looking down on everyone, his chin held so high it almost touched the sky.
(end of chapter)
Though the Man in Glasses harbored deep resentment towards the forces behind him, feeling that despite his unwavering loyalty, he had been cast aside like trash, which truly chilled him to the bone. If the Man in Glasses knew there were satellites watching from above, he would likely be even more despairing. He was a pawn; the vampires didn't even bother to conceal his whereabouts, brazenly sending him forth.
Many major powers were silently monitoring the situation's progress via satellites. They watched scene after scene of this small-scale warfare, which resembled nothing less than a slaughterhouse, incredibly bloody. Several metal giants scythed down lives in rows, like harvesting wheat, leaving hardly anyone with an intact corpse. Those who were lucky enough to survive pathetically clutched their mangled limbs, a tragic smile appearing on their faces, having lost all will to live. Everyone who witnessed this scene drew in a sharp breath. It wasn't that they hadn't experienced warfare before, but such a brutal spectacle still filled them with immense trepidation. This mechanic's abilities were astonishing, and his methods had grown increasingly ruthless, showing no regard for the lives of his enemies.
"How did he become like this, growing increasingly ruthless..." Nick Fury muttered, rubbing his forehead as he watched the satellite feed. "He was clearly a law-abiding citizen with no prior record, yet he's become increasingly decisive in his kills. It seems he possesses an astonishing adaptability to such matters. I had thought that after spending some time with Charles, he might be influenced to rein himself in a bit..."
"So, when do you plan to visit him?" Agent Coulson's tone remained gentle; this scene hadn't significantly impacted him. He had keenly observed the young man's composure when Tony first awoke in the hospital, noting that Tony hadn't panicked despite abruptly stepping into the supernatural world. In fact, his composure was almost unnatural. Agent Coulson, after much thought, could only attribute it to a state of cold apathy following the sudden upheaval in his family and life.
"Arrange a helicopter for me; I'm going now." Nick Fury was always decisive and swift. He intended to act immediately and wait at Tony's home. This wouldn't seem abrupt, as the Old Bartender still resided there, and the entire area was already heavily but covertly surrounded by S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents. No vampire or Ghoul Tribe member would be able to get in.
Tony, commanding from the center, unleashed his Transformers for several charges, scattering the Ghoul Tribe members, tearing their courage to shreds, leaving them in constant terror. Should anyone miraculously survive, they would surely be left with a lifelong, lingering nightmare. Even if they managed to escape, they would likely never dare to make an enemy of Tony again.
"Die! Die! I'll blow you to hell!"
A Ghoul Tribe member, feigning death, patiently waited for Tony. He had bombs strapped to his body, intending a suicide attack to directly blow up Tony, their controller. He seized the opportune moment, lunging close to Tony and resolutely detonating the explosives. With a massive bang, Tony was thrown head over heels by the sudden, colossal explosion, landing covered in dust and grime.
Many of the surviving Ghoul Tribe members cast hopeful glances, but their hopes were quickly dashed. Tony coughed and rose to his feet as if nothing had happened, merely looking a little disheveled. His body was covered in small transformer armor, and combined with his increasingly powerful physique, it was more than enough to keep him safe.
"That was careless... I must learn from this in the future..." Tony remarked, his expression placid as he backhanded a shot, blowing away another human traitor who had charged at him, risking his life. He was diligently analyzing his gains and losses, determined not to repeat the same error. History had told him countless times that even the most insignificant individual could create astounding miracles. On the increasingly brutal battlefields at every level, he had little room for error or self-reflection. A single oversight in a confrontation with some powerful figure could easily lead to his demise. Tony understood his shortcomings. He forced himself to mature rapidly, shedding the laughable innocence and purity of his past. He now surveyed his surroundings with the utmost vigilance.
Amidst the firefight, a car abruptly turned and sped away, its horsepower maxed out within seconds, abandoning everyone else to escape on its own. A few Ghoul Tribe members still alive and prone on the ground cursed furiously. Despair washed over them; fighting with their lives only to be betrayed and abandoned by their own kind was the surest way to crush their morale. Tony no longer needed to intervene. They had already lost the will of warriors. Their high-ranking leaders had abandoned them and fled, so what motivation was left for them to fight?
Some began to rise, throwing down their weapons and kneeling on the ground, raising their hands in surrender. The dozen or so survivors followed suit, all kneeling and raising their hands—a gesture understood by any race, truly a universal language.
Tony hesitated for a brief moment, but then steeled himself and opened fire. The last dozen Ghoul Tribe members still collapsed into a pool of blood, their eyes wide open, reflecting a lingering, incredulous despair.
"If you were vampires, perhaps I might even accept your surrender, but you are human traitors."
Tony mumbled to himself, letting out a soft sigh, finding his own words utterly hypocritical. He knew in his heart that it was nonsense; even if vampires truly surrendered to him, he would act even more decisively, without a shred of hesitation. Vampires reproduced at an astonishing rate; an unchecked vampire could swiftly assemble a Vampire Army, and these new vampires would, in turn, convert even more humans, causing their numbers to skyrocket exponentially.
The Man in Glasses's vehicle sped wildly. He incessantly urged the Driver to go faster, his heart filled with trepidation, lacking even the courage to glance backward. He simply kept demanding more speed. Terror gripped his heart, fearing that a few shells would thunder in from behind, blasting him to pieces, and then everything would truly be over.
Tony did indeed intend to do just that. He squinted his eyes as one of Optimus Prime's arms instantly reconfigured into a massive cannon muzzle. Within the barrel, a huge metallic projectile had already taken shape. Even if it didn't explode, being struck by that thing would surely pulverize a person. He took aim at the retreating shadow, the car kicking up a cloud of dust.
Just then, a figure appeared without warning, completely astonishing Tony! Someone was faster than Tony! So fast that it was impossible to even discern what it was! In what felt like an instant, time itself seemed to halt. The Man in Glasses and his Driver were already flung before Tony, sporting expressions of utter bewilderment. The vehicle, still moving into the distance, quickly lost control and overturned by the roadside.
"You're that... mechanic?" This was the Silver-haired Youth who had instantly materialized before Tony, as if spatial distance were a mere joke to him. His speed was countless times faster than a bullet, every action completed in a flash. Everything in the world appeared to him in slow motion. He stood with his arms crossed, chin raised, looking at people with a sneer, a truly obnoxious demeanor.
"The old man specifically told me to look out for you, so from now on, you're my little bro." The Silver-haired Youth was incredibly arrogant. He peered at people with a disdainful gaze, as if looking down on everyone, his chin held so high it almost touched the sky.
(end of chapter)
