Three blessings in one day—beautiful!
Darren was in an excellent mood. Honestly, that Frost guy had turned out to be quite the lucky charm. If the guy hadn't just been burned into celestial-grade ash, Darren might've actually sent him to the beach for a sunbath as a thank-you gift.
The poor man was so pale—anemic, vitamin D–deficient, the whole package. A little sunlight would've done wonders for his complexion.
Blade walked over, his tone calm but eyes sharp. "Frost's dead?"
Darren shrugged casually. "Unless he's got a Phase Two hidden somewhere, yeah. Pretty dead."
A flicker of regret flashed across Blade's usually stoic face—not for Frost, of course, but for the lost opportunity to dig out the several kilos of precious silver bullets still lodged in the guy's body.
He took one last look at the spot where Frost had burned away to nothing. That eerie black flame still lingered in his mind, but he was smart enough not to ask questions. Everyone had their secrets—and some secrets were best left unspoken.
"Since Frost's gone," Blade said, slipping his silver sword back into its sheath and sliding on his iconic sunglasses, "it's time I moved on."
[NPC Eric Brooks has left your party]
The system chime rang in Darren's ears.
He didn't mind, though. "Where're you headed? Add me as a friend—never know when we might team up again."
He meant it. The guy might've been gloomy as a gravestone, but he was a damn good partner—generous with kills and even better at soaking up bullets.
Blade, already used to Darren's bizarre way of talking, mentally translated his words into something that made sense.
"Let's not exchange contacts," he said quietly. "I'm heading to another city. There are still bloodsuckers hiding in the shadows—and I intend to hunt every last one down."
He hesitated, voice lowering a notch. "And… I need to find my mother. I deserve to hear her reasons—face to face."
Darren scratched his head, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Uh… yeah. Sure. Good luck with that."
...
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters – Director's Office
Nick Fury sat behind his desk, fingers interlaced under his chin, his one good eye locked on Darren with the intensity of a laser sight.
"So let me get this straight," he began, voice low and measured. "I sent you to investigate a series of disappearances. You found out it was connected to vampires—a mythical species—and then you decided to wipe out the entire vampire underworld in New York."
"Not only that, you discovered their leader was performing some kind of ritual to gain 'La Magra powers' and take over the world."
"And then… you stopped him. Single-handedly. Saving humanity in the process."
Darren grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. "That's a perfect summary, Director. You really have a gift for storytelling!"
Nick Fury: (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
For a moment, the man was speechless.
He had sent this lunatic to look into a missing persons case. A missing persons case!
And somehow, that investigation had escalated into a citywide vampire genocide and an apocalyptic ritual involving a La Magra.
The fact that he hadn't even heard about it until after Darren had finished the job made it worse.
It was like wishing on a shooting star before bed, only to wake up and learn that same star had almost annihilated the planet while everyone else was panicking—and you were the only one who'd slept through it.
Fury rubbed his temples, exhaling through his nose. "Why the hell didn't you report this sooner?"
Darren blinked. "What for? You'd just give me the follow-up mission anyway. I saved us both some time and skipped to the end."
"…" Fury stared at him.
Who told you that's how this works?!
If he'd known this was about vampires, he would've mobilized S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents immediately—UV lamps blazing, garlic bombs ready, the whole damn vampire-busting parade.
But it was too late.
He sighed. He knew Darren's brain didn't run on any recognizable logic, and trying to correct it was like arguing with a tornado.
Besides, credit where it was due—Darren had handled the situation. Recklessly, yes. But effectively.
And despite his frustration, Fury had to admit… he was impressed.
Taking down an immortal vampire lord alone? That wasn't just impressive—it was terrifying.
The truth was, Fury had known for a while that Darren wasn't normal.
After all, it's hard not to notice when a guy can teleport across continents and materialize in your office unannounced.
Not to mention the daily circus acts—turning objects out of thin air, swapping outfits in a blink, vanishing into walls.
He might've lost an eye, but he wasn't blind.
Still, what could he do?
As much as Darren made his blood pressure spike, he was useful.
All Fury had to do was assign missions. Darren handled the rest—efficiently, violently, and often with property damage, but still handled.
Sure, the man sometimes caused budget nightmares and "collateral incidents," but with a 100% mission success rate? Fury could live with it.
What he hadn't expected was that Darren's power might actually be growing.
The guy had just soloed a literal god-tier vampire. That wasn't normal by any standard.
Fury narrowed his eye, then slid a folder across the desk. "New mission. Complete this one, and we'll consider your promotion to Level 6 Agent."
[NPC Nick Fury has issued a Rank Advancement Mission]
[Mission: The Ninja Enigma]
[Objective: Investigate an underground organization known as The Hand and obtain classified intel for Nick Fury]
[Reward: Level 6 S.H.I.E.L.D. (Hydra) Agent Authorization]
Darren blinked at the line of text, particularly the reward.
Level 6 S.H.I.E.L.D. (Hydra) Agent Authorization.
Wait. Both?
Since when did those two share ranks?!
He frowned. "Uh, Director? So… are S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra, like, using the same HR department now?"
Fury's expression didn't change. "...Next question."
...
Midnight.
Following the mission marker, Darren arrived outside a heavily guarded skyscraper.
Several security personnel stood at the entrance, checking every visitor like hawks.
Darren smirked. "Cute. Manual inspection."
He crouched low, activated his Gravity Boots, and casually walked up the side of the building like it was flat ground, scaling fifty stories in seconds.
At the top, he produced a slim metal tool from his inventory—his trusty master key.
A soft click, and the locked door swung open.
He slipped inside.
The interior was dimly lit, lined with motion sensors and cameras at every corner. Surveillance coverage was total—no blind spots.
Any normal infiltrator would've been sweating bullets.
Not Darren.
He pulled out a sleek, obsidian-black phone—the Hacker's Smartphone.
[Item: Hacker's Phone – From a top-tier cybercriminal. Capable of breaching most electronic systems with ease.]
It was the same one he'd used to hack Alexander Pierce's office once upon a time.
If it could break through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top-level firewall, this building's security system didn't stand a chance.
A few taps later, the monitors looped into a perfect, seamless replay.
The hallways were clear. The guards were blind.
Darren grinned smugly. "Now that's how you do a perfect stealth op."
He adjusted his jacket and started walking, humming a victory tune.
Finally, people would have to stop calling him a "brute-force button masher."
Then—
WEEEOOOO!!
A piercing alarm blared through the corridors, followed by frantic shouts.
"Alert! We've got an intruder in the building!"
Darren froze mid-step.
"...Excuse me?"
He blinked at the flashing red lights, looked down at his high-tech phone—then up at the cameras he'd just hacked.
"Impossible," he muttered. "I looped the footage…"
A pause.
"Wait… don't tell me—"
He turned his head slowly toward the nearest camera.
The lens was cracked. Someone had taped a handwritten note beneath it.
[Smile for Hydra. We're already in your system. ❤️]
Darren: "..."
"Goddammit—S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra really are sharing servers now?!"