Bobby the Trucker

"The mission is simple: drive the truck before midnight and enter the bar at different times. The special teams will be in the containers, ready to come out when the signal is given, while we go in as regular customers looking to get drunk."

"Wait, do I have to go in too?" Bobby, who had been given a weapon and special equipment for the mission, quickly intervened, wanting to keep up with the explanations.

Ethan glanced at the agents in their tactical combat gear and said, "It's better if you come with us. We need to bring ordinary people together to avoid drawing too much attention."

"Ordinary? I've been called many things in my life, but ordinary has never been one of them," Bobby said as he strapped on his two pistols.

"We'll have to cross the border into Mexico. We initially thought the tavern was in our country, but since it's outside, we have to move with what we've got."

This explained why the U.S. police hadn't found anything—it turns out the disappearances were happening on Mexican soil, and the only way to eliminate the threat was to go directly to that country.

As the regent, Ethan had no problem crossing the border with weapons. He wanted to handle everything in a rudimentary manner to avoid unnecessary attention from the authorities. Additionally, his hatred for vampires was still too great—he intended to kill every last one of them personally before blowing everything up with the portable bomb Bobby was carrying.

He would exterminate them all; every single one that wasn't bound by a pact with the Light Association would be slain until their bodies were pulverized.

While Ethan's thoughts wandered to his most painful memory, he looked at an old locket where he was pictured with his childhood girlfriend. There were no romantic feelings now; it had been many years since he last remembered her clearly, but she was killed by vampires on his first mission.

When her body was found, it was drained of blood, her skin cold, clutching tightly the same locket that Ethan now held in his hands.

Liam, noticing Ethan's expressionless face, knew things were about to get extremely bloody, so he suggested, "Boss, he should stay in the truck with the control agents."

"Do what you think is best," Ethan replied, checking the time before jumping out of the helicopter without any protection.

Bobby didn't say anything. As a friend of a werewolf, he knew what supernatural beings were capable of. "Zz… Descend at the designated point. Two trucks with the necessary equipment will be waiting."

When all the agents had descended one by one, they entered the armored container of the black truck and began gearing up. The team in the rear would be waiting for the order to attack the site where the vampires were, while those in the front would be on standby.

"I'll drive. It's been a while since I last drove one of these things," Bobby said, jumping into the driver's seat without waiting for instructions.

Seeing Bobby's initiative, Liam told him, "Straight to the border. We have clearance to cross without inspection, so don't stop for anything."

"Got it," Bobby replied, starting the engine, and the truck quickly sped toward the Mexican border.

There was a second truck, which was essentially a mobile ambulance, here to treat any injuries or supply special equipment depending on the threat.

Both trucks quickly headed to the border while Ethan lay down in the back. Having slept little, he needed rest if he wanted to be in top condition.

As they neared the border, Bobby glanced at Liam and asked, "Does he hate vampires?"

"He loathes them. He can live alongside werewolves, but it's different when a vampire is involved," Liam replied as he trimmed his beard.

Bobby understood. He wasn't an idiot; he knew Ethan had probably lost someone dear to him at the hands of vampires. He knew these dark entities were a problem—they killed to survive, unlike werewolves.