Transformer in MCU

The old bartender's hands trembled as he struggled to open his bottle.

After several failed attempts, Downey popped it open for him, urging the old man to continue his story.

During that chaotic period, the old bartender's father had descended into complete madness.

He secretly kidnapped vampires, working relentlessly day and night to study their immortality and explore ways to transfer it to himself.

According to the deciphered contents from the human leather cloth, he captured countless vampires and humans alike for his experiments.

He had become utterly consumed by his obsession to ascend to godhood, abandoning everything else in his pursuit.

"At that time, I was just a child," the old bartender began, "I should've been marked as a member of the Ha Ga clan, but nobody cared about a clueless kid back then. All attention was on my father."

Eventually, the vampires noticed the unusual activity surrounding his family.

They began a secret investigation, and when they discovered what his father was doing, they still didn't immediately act.

Instead, they used the opportunity to provide him with more experimental "materials," watching from the shadows as his research progressed.

When he finally deciphered the last part of the leather cloth, the vampires struck.

They invaded in the dead of night, slaughtering everyone in the old bartender's family.

Only the old bartender survived, having been sent away by his father shortly before the attack.

"My old man knew they were watching him," the bartender said. "He knew it all along. He lured them into helping his research by showing them his results. But then he sent me away just before they came. He must've known they were going to strike."

"But why?" Downey interjected, confused. "If he wanted godhood so badly, why did he put himself in harm's way?"

The old bartender shook his head, his expression somber. "That's the part I've never understood. He had everything in his grasp, but it was like he gave up in the end."

Downey didn't respond immediately, deep in thought. He had been played from the start, guided like a pawn to this point.

He was now entangled in a web of vampire politics and god-making schemes.

Someone had orchestrated his every move, setting him against the vampires.

At first, he thought he was being used to weaken the vampire clan or eliminate him altogether.

Perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved, but this felt more personal, more deliberate.

Whoever was behind this knew about his abilities, had studied his tactics from previous encounters, and was well aware of what he needed.

They also possessed insider knowledge of the vampires' god-making plan—information so secret that only the highest echelons of the vampire hierarchy would know.

"That's terrifying," Downey muttered. The mysterious mastermind had an overwhelming advantage, controlling the situation from the shadows with perfect information.

They had maneuvered Downey into direct conflict with the vampires, using the old bartender as a tool to further their own plans.

"Why didn't the Thompson family just imprison you?" Downey asked the bartender. "Why throw you into a bar like some disposable pawn?"

The bartender shrugged. "They needed my necklace. The last piece of leather cloth is hidden in there, something I've had since I was a kid.

They found me and took it, but they didn't kill me—just told me to wait, and that they'd be back for me later."

Downey's face darkened. He had been played for a fool from the start.

Every move he made had been predicted, and the mastermind had manipulated him at every turn.

This person had not only predicted Downey's approach to the situation but also knew his habits.

The administrator who was killed had been a key part of this, placed in Downey's path to deliver just enough information to lead him to the bartender.

But why had they been so confident that Downey would follow this exact route?

Downey could have taken a different path. He could have simply bought scrap cars and assembled his creations himself, avoiding the need to approach any of the bar owners or mechanics.

Or he could've spent days observing the bar before making a move, being cautious.

But that didn't happen. Downey had walked straight into the trap.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling a chill crawl up his spine.

"Damn, this is why smart people crack," Downey murmured, feeling the weight of his situation.

"They play mind games, knowing you'll eventually make a mistake."

He opened a bottle of beer for himself, taking a long drink, as his mind raced through the possibilities.

This wasn't just a case of someone being clever. This was a level of manipulation far beyond anything Downey had faced before.

The old bartender, drunk, had passed out in the corner, snoring amidst a pile of half-empty bottles.

Downey glanced at him. Both he and the vampires had reason to keep the old man alive, but the bartender had become a pivot point—a lever in a dangerous balance.

The vampires needed him for further information, and Downey needed him to avoid revealing his own secrets. In a sense, the old bartender was the key to both sides' strategies.

And therein lay the problem: as long as the bartender lived, Downey and the vampires would be locked in opposition.

There was one alternative.

Kill the old bartender, break the scale, and end the game.

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Sayo nara ~~