The heads-up display in his glasses chirped quietly after some walking. The location he'd been given wasn't very specific, but he'd put it into his navigation system, and now he had a rough area to search for, conveniently highlighted by a ring overlaid on his vision. The human didn't waste any time now, switching the sling on his shotgun back to a one-point and hefting the weapon as if to use it. If the vampire he was after happened to be crazy enough to try something, he would rather by alive and lose his payday. Scanning his arcs carefully, he walked more slowly now, searching for any signs of life, any indication that there might be someone living around here.

It took a good deal of looking, but he did eventually spot the signs he was looking for. An inconspicuous vent poking out from the ground, doing its very best to exchange air quietly. Anyone determined enough had to find it eventually, but the vampire hunter was a little surprised it wasn't better hidden. Then again, most people were deathly afraid of leaving the safety of their walls. He just needed to find a way in, now. Working outward from the vent location, he started looking for a door. He assumed it would be at least a little bit hidden, and continued to move slowly. He had all day, and wasn't exactly worried.

Of course, Murphy was probably the worst person to ever live, and while he made finding a door relatively easy, by the time the contractor had reached it, his elbow was seizing up. "Fucking bullshit." he growled quietly to himself, "Stupid dumb bitch, giving me last year's model..." then his voice switched to a higher pitch, but remained quiet, "Oh, we fixed you up great. You're better than new!" he spit the words out like they tasted vile before continuing in his normal angry growl, "I'mma fuckin' kill that bitch." then his elbow locked up completely. Outdated modern cybernetics were the worst idea in the world. The older, pre-virus models were great, they could work in any conditions, and wouldn't stop working until they were in pieces. Newer models needed updating, and he couldn't afford such a thing right now. That left him with a left arm locked in a ninety degree bend. Grumbling, he stuffed his shotgun under his arm, and pulled out his sidearm.

The massive revolver was matte black, with an eight inch barrel and a nine round cylinder full of the biggest, nastiest .44 magnum rounds the man could get his hands on. It was bulky, impractical, and terrifying. And the only reason it wasn't the larger, fifty calibre version, was that he couldn't afford one yet. He fixed a snarl on his face, and tapped the barrel against the top of his hat's brim. It whirred in response, then he attempted to key open the door. It wasn't in default mode, however, and it didn't take long for the him to realize that this was an active, secure bunker. Whoever was in there was sane enough to maintain this place, and obviously had no intention of coming out if it wasn't of their own accord. He wondered if standing around with a gun in his hand was a good idea, and hoped he wasn't about to get shot. If she ruined his shirt, they were going to have a problem...