Dimensional Trader in Marvel

Barely ten minutes after Josh and his team left, the sound of engines filled the night sky.

It was the sound of B-29 bombers.

Moments later, a barrage of bombs and incendiary weapons rained down on the city, turning it into a blazing inferno and reducing it to ashes. (TL/N: Incendiary weapons use a chemical reaction to produce heat or flames that cause injury or set fire to objects.)

The next day, in a temporary isolation ward of a military hospital under General Fletcher's command, both the Vampire Hugh Jones and the angry Lady Ellen were strapped securely to two hospital beds.

Between them was a pump.

Josh and his team had no idea how vampires transferred their bloodline to lesser vampires.

But that didn't matter. They simply planned to drain all of Lady Ellen's blood and transfuse it into Hugh Jones.

The vampires probably didn't have to worry about blood type compatibility.

As Lady Ellen's blood was gradually drained and pumped into Hugh Jones, the madness in his blood-red eyes began to fade, replaced by a clear and calm gaze.

"Mr. Jones?" Josh's voice came through the lab's intercom.

"Yeah, it's me, Josh. I'm back," Hugh Jones replied, glancing at Lady Ellen, who was now little more than a mere husk.

Unlike human corpses, which retained considerable moisture even when drained of blood, a vampire's body became mummified once completely drained.

"Well, that's good news. Looks like you're aware of what happened," Josh remarked with a slight smile.

"Of course. Even though I was under the control of bloodthirsty instincts, I remember everything that happened—including when you took those photos of me," Hugh Jones replied with a deadpan expression.

"That's a relief. At least I don't have to explain everything that happened to you," Josh said, slightly surprised. He hadn't expected Hugh to remember everything.

Fortunately, Josh hadn't said anything incriminating in front of Hugh, aside from briefly mentioning that Nosferatu's matters were his responsibility to handle. Otherwise, Josh would have had to take drastic measures.

As for the Tesla Trooper armour, Josh didn't care if the Council found out—they would learn about it sooner or later anyway.

"Yes, I'll sign the agreement to transfer the Boeing shares later, but you must return the photos and negatives to me!" Hugh Jones said quietly.

"Ahem, no rush, no rush. How do you feel now?" Josh, caught off guard by Hugh's blunt demand, felt a little embarrassed despite his thick skin and quickly changed the subject.

"I feel great. My body is bursting with vitality and my mind has never been clearer!" Hugh Jones replied, choosing not to argue with Josh. He was grateful enough to have regained control of himself—becoming an immortal vampire was an unexpected bonus.

As for the Boeing shares—mere billions. For a tycoon like Roxxon, it wasn't a loss worth worrying about. Josh could have them if he wanted.

The only inconveniences for Hugh Jones now were his newfound need for blood and his inability to be exposed to sunlight.

But for someone of Hugh's stature, these were trivial problems.

To deal with the former, he could easily set up a few hospitals or blood banks and have an endless supply of blood.

As for the latter, his role as Roxxon's leader didn't require him to be physically present during the day to maintain his authority.

"Looks like the procedure was a success. Vito, take that and burn it. Be thorough!" Josh nodded at Hugh's positive report, then gestured to the dried-up husk of Lady Ellen and gave his next order.

Vito looked at Lady Ellen's mummified remains and sighed inwardly.

No matter how cunning or beautiful she was, trying to outmaneuver a boss like Josh, who played by no rules, was her doom.

He pushed the body toward the incinerator, and soon the flames reduced it to ashes.

Meanwhile, deep inside an ancient castle in Hungary, in an ornate coffin, a young man dressed in luxurious, classic attire suddenly opened his eyes.

"Ellen! Who dares kill my wife?!" he roared, his voice echoing throughout the castle.

This young man was none other than Count Nosferatu, the vampire.

"Why are you screaming as soon as I arrive? What happened?" A deep, magical voice interrupted his fury.

"Progenitor!" Count Nosferatu's body trembled at the sound of the voice. He quickly opened the coffin lid and bowed respectfully. "Why are you here?"

The speaker, addressed as "Progenitor," was another vampire and, as the title suggested, the origin of Nosferatu's bloodline.

It was none other than the legendary Count Dracula, the oldest vampire still living on Earth.

Of course, that didn't mean there weren't higher beings than Dracula—those beings just weren't on Earth, or more specifically, in this dimension.

"What's going on?" Dracula asked without answering Nosferatu's question.

"One of my direct blood descendants just died!" Nosferatu answered truthfully.

"Do you know why?" Dracula asked casually.

"Not yet, but I suspect it's something to do with those American soldiers or the werewolves," Nosferatu replied thoughtfully.

After all, the only notable incidents involving Ellen lately were either the werewolf squad she eliminated or the human military.

"Human soldiers? Are you disobeying my orders?" Dracula's expression darkened and his tone became harsh. "Are you not afraid of attracting the attention of those at Kamar-Taj?"

"But, Progenitor, they have trespassed into our territory..." Nosferatu stammered, trembling.

"Shut up and lay low for a while and stay out of human affairs. I don't want Kamar-Taj to find a reason to move against us," Dracula warned.

"Progenitor?" Nosferatu looked at Dracula in confusion.

"Hmph. It's that Ancient One. For some reason, she's grown considerably stronger lately, and there's no sign of her aging... She's just a human, for goodness sake," Dracula muttered darkly.

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