Steve Chapter 873: We're both Priest, I also like Little Boys... (Patreon)

“...I’ve changed my mind.”

Seeing Fang Mo in such a blatantly blasphemous pose, the towering priest finally lost it. Enraged, he gripped the hilts of his swords so hard they creaked. Even through white gloves, you could see the veins popping on his hands.

“I’ll kill you first, then go deal with those damned vampires!”

“Kill me first?”

Fang Mo actually laughed. “You sure you don’t want to switch that order? Because if I go down, you might never get the chance to finish off those vampires…”

“You won’t know unless you try!”

With a savage grin, the massive priest hefted his longswords and advanced at a brisk pace. “You’re the most rebellious, the craziest heretic I’ve ever seen—but that’s as far as you go. Now go to hell and repent!”

“Wait!”

Suddenly, Fang Mo raised his hand with the two round holes in it.

“What?”

The big priest stopped briefly. “Finally come up with your last words? Hah! A heretic who profanes God isn’t worthy of final words—”

“You guys in the Vatican’s so-called Section XIII… Iscariot, right?”

For some reason, Fang Mo started stroking his chin. “Iscariot… that must refer to Judas Iscariot from the Bible, the one who betrayed Jesus.”

“So what if it does?”

The priest furrowed his brow impatiently, brandishing his swords. Without warning, he dashed at Fang Mo in a furious sprint. “Don’t try to stall, you heretical scum! Go to hell—Aaaaaamen!!!”

“Help! Judas Iscariot’s trying to kill Jesus again!”
Fang Mo hollered dramatically.

“Don’t call it that!!!”

Infuriated by Fang Mo’s mocking words, the towering priest roared. His arms blurred like lightning, launching the two longswords in an arc. They shot forward so fast they practically ripped the air apart, smashing every window in the corridor with a violent shockwave.

“Holy— That’s fast!?”

Fang Mo let out what sounded like a panicked exclamation.

In the blink of an eye, with everyone watching, he lifted his arm as if to block… but somehow the swords slipped right through the round holes in his palm and nailed him in the head instead.

“Sh—!”

Boom!! Bang!!!

Before Fang Mo could even curse, a deafening crash tore through the air. A shockwave burst outward from him, sending shards of glass and bits of corpse flying in all directions. As for Fang Mo’s body, it snapped backward, looking like he’d suffered a mortal blow. The strange metal object he’d been holding clattered to the ground, rolling a couple of times.

“Ha ha ha!”

Seeing this, the priest’s face lit up in a manic grin.

“Eek!”

Unlike his delight, the policewoman sprawled on the floor went pale. “M-Mister Two-Headed Ogre! Are… are you okay?!”

“Just kidding, pal,”

came Fang Mo’s voice a split-second later. His body, which had bent backward, slowly straightened back up. Not so much as a scratch on his head—though the two longswords were now shattered into countless fragments. Grinning at the priest, Fang Mo said, “God can’t be killed twice by the same Judas…”

“You—”

“Oh, right, one more thing.”

He turned toward the policewoman on the floor. “Don’t ever call me ‘Two-Headed Ogre’ again!”

“Huh? Then what am I supposed to—”

“Call me Jesus.”

Without letting her finish, Fang Mo shot back, then raised his arms overhead as if he were nailed to a cross. “I’m guessing Jesus was the first web novelist in history, and Judas was his editor… because he got Jesus put on the rack!”

“…”

The priest’s face twisted in silent rage.

“Hahahahaha!”

Meanwhile, Alucard, who’d been watching all this, burst into wild laughter. “So, Father, how will you handle us monsters now?”

“A monster killed is a monster dead.”

The priest calmed himself, holding out his hands. Two pages of scripture fluttered between his fingers and promptly transformed back into twin longswords. “If one strike won’t do it, I’ll do ten, a hundred, a thousand—until you all lie dead at my feet!”

“Ooh…”

Alucard sounded a bit intrigued at that.

“Well said,”

Fang Mo chimed in, clapping slowly. “But that logic applies to you, too. A friend of mine once said something similar: ‘People die if they are killed.’ Don’t you agree, Father Anderson?”

By this point, Fang Mo remembered most of the Hellsing story. The series essentially revolved around three main factions:

Hellsing, Britain’s monster-hunting organization,

The Vatican’s Section XIII: Iscariot,

And the remnants of a Nazi group known as Millennium, or “The Last Battalion.”

Alucard, the vampire king under Hellsing, fought other undead. He saved the policewoman on a whim, then got dragged into Millennium’s conspiracy, with the Vatican also joining in.

Eventually, all three forces clashed in London, where the real plan was unveiled: the Nazi major didn’t actually want to take revenge on the world, only to destroy Alucard in a grand war—rather than just a battle—because he considered Alucard’s existence an affront to human will. The million innocent deaths in London? A side effect of his mad obsession.

Anyway, that was all background. As for the towering, fanatical priest before them now, that was Alexander Anderson—Vatican Section XIII’s ultimate weapon, enhanced by a combination of science and holy powers. He was a major figure in the storyline, nicknamed everything from “Killer,” “Angel Dust,” “Sword Priest,” “Executioner,” and so on.

He eradicated monsters primarily with brute force. A huge, muscular man with short blond hair, wearing glasses that couldn’t hide his savage aura, loaded with an arsenal of anti-monster gear. In the final battle of the original story, Anderson turned himself into a divinely powered monster to finish Alucard, but that drove Alucard—who “longed to be killed by a human”—into a furious rejection of dying at a monster’s hands. Alucard killed Anderson in turn.

“People die if they’re killed?”

Anderson’s eyes narrowed as he raised his swords. “Then prove it, monster!”

“You sure?”

Fang Mo took a big breath. “Fire Release: Majestic Destr—”

Bang!

Before he could finish, a single gunshot echoed from somewhere behind them. Blood spurted from the center of Anderson’s forehead, and the impact flung him backward with brutal force. He slammed into the wall, then slid to the floor, leaving a massive splatter of blood all over the plaster.

“Killing a monster so it dies—interesting notion,”
Alucard remarked, blowing the smoke from his gun barrel. He wore a faint smile. “Too bad you picked the wrong targets. In the end, you’re just another dumb priest.”

“M-Master…”

The policewoman let out a shaky sigh of relief.

“Huh?”

Alucard glanced her way, since he was somewhat protective of his fledgling. He was about to go help her when—without warning—the ‘corpse’ behind him jerked upright. Anderson sprang to his feet, an unholy grin plastered on his face. He pulled out two longswords and stabbed them clean through Alucard’s back with a sickening crunch.

“Wh-What…?!”

Alucard stared down in surprise at the blades jutting from his chest.

“Aaaamen!!!”

Bellowing in religious fervor, Anderson forcefully raked the swords sideways. Blessed steel was the bane of undead, and just one slash left Alucard’s chest cavity gouged open, part of his lung dangling out.

But it wasn’t over yet. Alucard immediately snapped back into combat mode. Planting a foot forward, he pulled himself free of the swords embedded in his torso and twisted, firing his handgun at point-blank range. A hail of bullets tore into Anderson, who collapsed in a mangled heap.

Yet in an instant, the priest’s twisted grin reappeared. Despite his bullet-ridden body, he climbed to his feet, looking more like a demon from hell than any man of God. With a roar, Anderson grabbed his swords and lunged forward. Alucard reloaded, pumping round after round into the priest, but this time Anderson simply rushed right through the gunfire. Closing in, Anderson pulled the same trick as before—hurling one of his swords at Alucard with blinding speed.

Alucard managed to shoot down one blade, but as he aimed for the next, a giant hand grabbed his face. Anderson had reached him, grabbing him by the head and slamming him down the corridor into a wall.

Crash!!!

A massive boom resounded as Alucard’s body was smashed halfway into the masonry. Still not enough, Anderson spread his arms and pinned Alucard’s hands to the wall with two more swords, nailing him in place.

“Crap, not this move again!”

Fang Mo muttered, glancing at the holes in his own palms. “Now we’ve both got holy holes, huh…”

“I—”

Alucard tried to speak, but Anderson didn’t give him a chance. The priest whipped out a dozen more blades, throwing them like daggers straight into Alucard’s chest. Blood gushed everywhere, painting the ceiling.

Then, with one final slash, Anderson lopped off Alucard’s head in a fountain of gore. His hat fell, and his severed head rolled right up to the policewoman’s feet.

“Amen!!”

With Alucard decapitated, the towering priest howled in fanatical triumph. Meanwhile, the policewoman—seeing her master literally lose his head—gave a horrified shriek.

“Shut it, monster!”

The priest whipped around, his bloodshot eyes landing on Fang Mo and the policewoman. “You’re next!”

“Eek!”

The officer went pale. “T-Two-Hea— J-Jes— S-Sir, what do we do?!”

She was totally at a loss. She wanted to call him by name, but she’d just been told not to say “Two-Headed Ogre” anymore, and calling him “Jesus” would no doubt provoke the lunatic priest even more. The whole thing left her in a panic—especially considering Anderson had just taken out Alucard, her near-invincible master.

“Hmm…”

Yet Fang Mo, standing right beside her, was apparently lost in thought.

“Sir?”

She glanced up, only to freeze. “Uh… s-sir, you changed again?”

Indeed, in the blink of an eye, Fang Mo looked completely different. Gone was the white robe. Now he wore a black clerical outfit, much like Kirei Kotomine from Fate, complete with a crucifix around his neck and some sort of pitch-black metal object clutched in his arms. He looked solemn, almost pious.

“Can’t we talk this out?”

Fang Mo said, eyeing the rapidly approaching Anderson. “I am a priest, after all.”

“Don’t pretend to be one of us, you heretic!”
Anderson’s pace quickened, fury blazing. “You’re even worse than that vampire, a thousand times worse! I’ll send you to—”

“Hey, I am a priest,”

Fang Mo insisted with an exasperated shrug. “Look, I like little boys just as—”

He trailed off, lifting the black metal object into the moonlight. The policewoman and Anderson both realized it was a metal warhead, engraved with a radioactive hazard symbol.

“Which ‘little boy’ is that supposed to be?!”

Even the policewoman couldn’t hold back her shock.