Chapter 50

Alexei never imagined that on such an ordinary day, it would feel like waking from a dream to see his two daughters standing before him. This rugged Eastern European man, tough on the outside but soft on the inside, stepped forward. Despite the disgusted and conflicted looks on Natasha and Yelena's faces, he stretched out his arms and pulled them into a hug.

With his large head wedged between theirs, he let out a shaky breath, his voice trembling, "Even if this is just a dream, I'm happy. Praise God for letting me see you now."

Natasha and Yelena were caught off guard by their emotions. But Natasha, ever the practical one, quickly broke free from the bear hug, pushing Alexei away with surprising strength. He stumbled back, a confused look on his face.

He glanced down at his arms, caked in mud, and then at Natasha, wondering, Did I not eat today? Or has my strength—once greater than ordinary men—somehow become weaker than my daughter's?

"This... you... I..." Alexei stammered, unable to find the words. Natasha rolled her eyes and turned toward Wanda and Clarice, who stood nearby, watching with amusement. She gently patted Clarice's head and said softly, "Thank you, Wanda. Clarice."

"Hee hee, Sister Natasha, is that your sister? Oh, she's very nice!" The little girl, clearly enjoying being patted on the head, grinned with her big eyes sparkling. She looked curiously at Yelena, clearly fond of her, especially since Yelena had been making funny faces at her just a moment ago.

Natasha glanced at Yelena, a complicated expression briefly crossing her face, but she nodded, "Yes, she's my sister, Yelena."

Then, after a moment's hesitation, she added, "They're also my family."

"Wow~~" Wanda and Clarice responded excitedly, as if they'd figured it out already. They weren't surprised—after all, it seemed Natasha had come back for her former family.

After confirming it, Natasha turned to the two girls and said, "Wanda, Clarice, why don't you head back first? I'll make something delicious for you later."

"Okay~" Clarice and Wanda agreed happily. Natasha's cooking, especially her desserts, always had a unique and delightful flavor.

Clarice waved her hand, opening a portal. Before stepping through, Wanda paused, as if remembering something, and turned to Natasha with a smile. "Go home early, Leon has a surprise waiting for you."

"Mm!" Natasha raised her thin eyebrows, intrigued by the mention of a surprise, though the warmth in her heart overpowered her curiosity. She nodded, watching Wanda and Clarice step through the portal, the purple cirrus clouds slowly fading away.

"Are they all mutants?" Alexei's voice came from behind.

Without turning, Natasha replied, "They're my family." Her tone softened briefly as she walked toward the plane.

Alexei and Yelena trailed behind, with Alexei chattering non-stop.

"Wow, my dear, you found a new family these past few years. It's wonderful! I just wish I could've seen that heartwarming scene. In fact, I've missed you so much during these ten years in prison."

"Alexei, can't you just shut up?," Yelena interjected, her tone dry.

"Ah, Yelena, that's so harsh. You should know I've had many dreams, and most of them were about you."

"Honestly? That's not sweet—it's creepy."

"Impossible! My Yelena could never hate me. Isn't that right, Natasha?"

Their conversation grew fainter as they climbed the snow-covered mountains, until the plane took off vertically and disappeared into the white clouds.

...

As night fell, the Southside nightclub on Queens Boulevard buzzed with life, its neon lights flickering in the darkness. The night was the perfect veil for all sins.

The club, styled like an old warehouse, pulsed with live music, flashing lights, and a sea of people. The restless energy fueled the crowd as they moved, losing themselves in the beat, the flashing lights casting an atmospheric, almost mysterious glow over everything. Under the colorful halos, men and women swayed together, their bodies blending into the rhythm, creating a chaotic, sensual dance that made the space feel like a psychedelic maze.

Every corner held a different vibe, with some guests fully absorbed in the moment. But no one realized that tonight would turn into a feast of blood.

In the corner of the club, a man dressed in a black trench coat sat quietly on a sofa, a long, wrapped bar lying beside him. He sipped on juice, his eyes fixed on the surging crowd, observing in silence.

At ten o'clock, the atmosphere reached its peak. A loud air raid siren echoed throughout the club, but rather than inciting fear, it fueled the mania. Regulars knew that this signal marked the start of the most intense part of the night—the music was about to hit its hardest. The crowd responded in kind, lifting their arms and twisting their bodies with excitement. Faces gleamed with wild energy, and the room grew even more electric.

Suddenly, a woman with a revealing outfit took the stage, her voice cutting through the chaos as she spoke into the microphone. Her slightly shrill tone echoed across the nightclub.

"The blood feast is about to begin! Let's enjoy this moment—enjoy life, enjoy blood, enjoy happiness!"

A strange cheer rose from the crowd as the music reached a new intensity. But the excitement masked the real horror that had already begun to unfold. Men and women, lost in the music, began to notice something eerie. Their dance partners, bathed in the shifting colors of the lights, stared back at them with bloodthirsty eyes, no longer companions in the night, but predators—hungry, waiting.

At first, a man thought it was just some kind of weird intro to getting laid, but the woman in front of him opened her mouth, revealing sharp, tiger-like teeth. A wave of terror surged through him, his heart racing with fear.

Then came the screams.

"Fuck! What kind of monster are you?"

"What the hell is going on?"

"Stay away from me!"

The warm, lively atmosphere of the nightclub evaporated in an instant, replaced by an icy dread. The crowd began to realize that the people they had been dancing with were now wearing bloodthirsty expressions, closing in on them from all sides.

Panic spread like wildfire. Faces once flushed with excitement were now twisted with fear.

Meanwhile, the man in the black trench coat, still seated in the corner, curled his lips. He adjusted his sunglasses and began to stand, it was time for him to begin the slaughter.

But before he could act, a deafening crash erupted from above. The ceiling shattered, sending dust, smoke, and gravel raining down. A figure fell through the wreckage, landing with a thundering impact.