Parking lot. Ethan Carter sat in the driver’s seat of an old-fashioned car, opened his trench coat, and took out two 500cc bags of AB-type blood that the nurse had reported missing. Smiling to himself, he muttered, “After doing so many things to cure and save people, taking two bags of blood isn’t too much, right?”

Ethan Carter started up the vintage car and sped out of the parking lot at a speed not much slower than a sports car. From the outside, many people would question the emissions of this antique vehicle. For such an old car, the exhaust looked as if it had a catalytic converter installed, but there was clearly nothing attached to the tailpipe.

“A hospital! What a wonderful place! Westerners have invented a lot of things, but my favorite is the hospital. I used to hear people talk about heaven. For a zombie like me, the hospital’s blood bank is my heaven!” Ethan Carter waited at a red light, looking at the scenery outside the window, and said smugly.

The traffic jam was especially bad today. Ethan Carter waited for a long time, but the cars ahead didn’t move even a centimeter. Bored, he simply grabbed a copy of Playboy from beside his seat and flipped through it, making constant comments about the nude women inside: “This woman’s chest is stuffed with implants, there’s no way to suck blood from there! Annoying breast augmentation surgery! I wonder if our Eastern herbal medicine can stimulate them to grow bigger? Stupid Westerners. This one! This one! Hey! Why is there a transgender person in here? Don’t think I can’t tell just because you’ve had a lot of work done! This one, this one, and this one! What a lousy magazine!” Ethan Carter simply tossed the Playboy onto the back seat.

The car in front moved forward by more than half a car length and stopped again. The BMW behind Ethan Carter saw the gap and kept honking, urging Ethan Carter to move forward.

“Keep honking, will you!” Ethan Carter rolled down the window, glanced back at the other car’s tires, and slowly moved his own car forward by more than half a car length.

Before the BMW behind could move, all four of its tires suddenly exploded with a bang. The BMW’s driver immediately felt his line of sight drop.

On the crowded road, with all four tires blown out at once, there was no way the car could move. Even calling for help was impossible—the cars on either side were only ten or twenty centimeters away, so getting out of the car was out of the question.

The cars behind the BMW saw Ethan Carter’s car move and started honking, urging the now-immobile BMW to move.

The BMW driver couldn’t even get out to explain. The cars on either side, seeing a chance to cut in, didn’t hesitate to squeeze their cars into the gap.

At this rate, the cars behind the BMW would have to wait until the traffic cleared before they could leave.

As a result, the drivers behind the BMW started to get angry. Many simply rolled down their windows, stuck their heads out, and started cursing loudly. Judging by the situation, it wouldn’t be surprising if a violent incident broke out here.

Ethan Carter looked at the BMW driver’s miserable expression in the rearview mirror, picked up today’s newspaper, and grinned wickedly: “So you think driving a BMW makes you hot stuff? Take a look at my license plate! 00544! That means ‘try messing with me if you dare.’”

The front page of the newspaper featured a story about Binhai City’s most outstanding private entrepreneur, David Thompson, describing his hard work in starting a business, his dedication to the country, and how he was elected as a city People’s Congress representative this year.

“So he’s even richer than I thought. Looks like, having just moved to a new city, I need to learn more about the local scene. This David Thompson isn’t just a great mobile blood bank, he’s also a pretty good ATM.” Looking at the dignified smile of David Thompson in the newspaper, Ethan Carter grinned as if he’d found a treasure and casually said, “This guy has been drinking ginseng soup every day for over a decade—his blood even tastes like ginseng. That’s a rare treat. Even those Western vampires who always brag about only drinking the blood of young girls would give up their picky habits if they saw this.”

The vintage car left the traffic jam area and drove straight to the entrance of a private clinic in the red-light district. At this time, the door was still tightly shut. The sign at the entrance clearly read: Open at night 19:00–24:00.

Chapter Three: Supreme Gold Medal

Ethan Carter jumped out of the car, checked his watch, and patted the vintage car, praising it: “If I’d known, I would have used the shrinking-the-ground-into-an-inch technique to get here. Sigh! Just moved here, still not familiar with the area.”

Ethan Carter opened the rolling shutter and entered the private hospital. This was a hospital entirely his own, a place that not only treated ordinary illnesses but could also handle certain other special conditions.

A clinic in the red-light district usually had some very skilled techniques in certain areas. Of course, their fees matched their skills.