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Killing Makes You Stronger

Humans? Vampires? Mutants? KILL!!! ... This is TRANSLATION! (AND ALL MY WORKS ARE TRANSLATION) Support me Financially Here: Patreon.com/Bleam — 70 Chapters in Advance in Patreon.

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103 Chs

Chapter 35: Nick Fury

The result of Bi Xiao's massive killing spree was that many large-scale disappearances occurred in New York.

Yet, the NYPD received no information whatsoever.

Even Bi Xiao's other alias, the Rainy Night Butcher, vanished without a trace. No cases of gang massacres have been reported in Queens since then, nor in other parts of New York.

Primarily, Bi Xiao's initial targets shifted from gangs to vampires.

After all, one would naturally grind where the experience points are plentiful; the tiny bit of life essence from ordinary people no longer caught his eye.

So, without his intervention as the Rainy Night Butcher, wouldn't the number of massacres decrease?

Although he killed many vampires this month, the vampires he found barely had the capacity to resist, which brings us to the use of psychic powers. Bi Xiao's process was straightforward: locate a vampire gathering, use psychic powers to take control of the scene.

If there were innocent people, he'd use mental suggestions to make them leave and manipulate the vampires to wait for their doom.

Once the civilians left, his several waves of magic would turn the vampires to ash, and he'd take the opportunity to remove the surveillance tapes as usual.

There were no witnesses, no gunshots, and his efficiency in killing was exceptionally high, causing hardly any uproar.

So it didn't stir up even a ripple.

One must admit, psychic power is extremely useful, whether against ordinary people or slightly stronger-willed vampires; it's a powerful tool for controlling the scene.

Once he settled down, the NYPD was at a loss.

Because two months ago, when the murderer ceased his activities, they conducted a massive search and found absolutely no clues. The few suspicious individuals they found were ex-military, but they all had solid alibis and were physically impaired.

Such people couldn't possibly have slaughtered over two hundred gunmen.

Moreover, Simon, the precinct chief of Queens, found it more troubling that the "FBI" joint investigation team had withdrawn, leaving only two agents behind. Although they continued to investigate earnestly, he felt they had already given up on this case.

Simon felt his career as precinct chief was over.

Regardless of the butcher's rising popularity nationwide, with many followers, it was irrelevant to him. At least in this super serial killing case, Simon had not demonstrated satisfactory capability, and though his resignation was not imminent due to the "FBI's" involvement, the stain of being criticized for incompetence remained.

Compared to resignation, this was much better, yet Simon was still somewhat infuriated, leading him to increase his visits to the joint investigation team's meeting room.

However, the pressure on the members of the joint investigation team, though considerable, was virtually non-existent compared to Simon's.

They had gathered the elite detectives from all over New York State. If everyone couldn't find any leads, they bore little responsibility. As long as the butcher ceased his crimes, they could just treat it as a cold case and file it away.

After all, hasn't New York filed away many such unsolved cases over the years?

The officers involved in the original investigations were not to blame.

Those off duty would leave work.

However, some members of the investigation team noticed that Chief George seemed busy with something lately. He appeared distracted and absent-minded every day at work.

His colleagues had asked him about it, but Chief George brushed it off, mentioning some family issues.

His colleagues realized and offered some comfort, not prying further, as it was a personal matter.

That day, as George was about to leave work in the evening with a determined look, ready to get into his car, he happened to encounter FBI Agent Coulson, whom he hadn't seen for a long time, chatting with two other FBI agents. George had a good impression of the mild-mannered Coulson, who was very professional and didn't meddle unnecessarily.

But then he remembered something else, his gaze flickering.

He didn't rush to get into his car, but waited until Coulson finished briefing the two agents before approaching to greet him.

"Hey, Coulson."

"Hey, George, long time no see."

Coulson, noticing George's worn-out look, said, "George, you look much more worn out than before, you might need to be careful."

"Yeah, I've been a bit overheated lately."

George didn't elaborate further but looked at Coulson, casually asking, "Have you and Agent Natasha withdrawn from the joint investigation team recently?"

"We have other assignments, and with you capable elites here, missing us two isn't a problem, but we must follow our superior's orders, right?" Coulson's expression remained gentle, but his eyes were observing George.

"Indeed, it's good to see you again, Coulson. See you next time."

"Same here, goodbye George."

Coulson stood still, watching as George turned to get into his car and drove away from the police station, furrowing his brow slightly.

"Did he notice something? How did he find out?"

After pondering, Coulson also got into his car and drove toward Long Island. The drive was long, and it took a while before he reached a building on Long Island. After parking the car, he entered the building.

The building was bustling with many people, including colleagues who recognized Coulson and nodded in greeting without much conversation.

The atmosphere was very disciplined.

Coulson passed through several card swipes and verifications to reach the elevator, which took him up to the floor he had in mind.

The elevator doors opened, and he followed the clean, high-tech corridor to an office, knocking on the door.

A deep voice came from inside.

"Come in."

Coulson opened the door to see a spacious office with floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end, where his direct superior, Director Nick Fury, sat in an office chair.

"Sir, someone at the NYPD has discovered the target's identity."

~~~

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