Steve Chapter 883: Stop Cat Eared Boy... (Patreon)

“Where’s that pink-haired subordinate of yours?”
Admiring the scenery outside the plane window, Alucard swirled the liquor in his wineglass and glanced at Fang Mo. “She’s not coming along?”

“Oh, you mean her?”

Fang Mo waved a hand dismissively. “She said you people lacked sincerity—couldn’t get her a bronze coffin and a nine-headed dragon—so she stayed behind.”

“A nine-headed dragon is a creature even I have never laid eyes on,”

Alucard remarked. “At best, some mythologies mention a hydra, which is not exactly the same. You might be demanding the impossible of Walter…”

“A two-headed dragon would’ve worked, too,”
Fang Mo shot back with a shrug. “You guys just aren’t sincere.”

“That thing probably can’t even fly.”
Alucard sipped his drink.

“Rubbish!”

Fang Mo declared, full of confidence. “Plenty of Japanese girl bands use two-headed dragons on the daily, and they seem to be flying high. Not sure what the Japanese government’s coating those instruments with, but every one of those girls ends up in a same-gender romance.”

“… …”

Alucard paused mid-swish. After a moment’s silence, he said dryly, “If you hadn’t denied it, I’d have assumed you were behind that.”

Cough.

Fang Mo cleared his throat. “Look, despite appearances, I’m quite upright and traditional deep down…”

“Oh, really?”

Alucard asked casually. “I seem to recall seeing that pink-haired weapon of yours using you as a bed. Hardly something a ‘traditional’ person would permit.”

“That was an accident,”

Fang Mo muttered, rubbing his face. “She’s the youngest of all my minions, so she gets special treatment. Like this time—she’s too lazy to move, so I left her back home to nap. She’s cute, so she can get away with anything. End of story.”

“Kukuku,”

Alucard chuckled. “From the sound of it, she’s the real master—and you’re just her pet. Even the undead need to strive, or they’ll end up as their own servants’ playthings.”

“Mind your damn business!”

Fang Mo snapped, scowling. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“Whatever you say.”

Alucard took a leisurely sip. “You seem to enjoy it, though. It’s only natural. We immortals do pick up… eccentric hobbies to pass the time.”

“That’s for sure,”

Fang Mo agreed with a nod. “Live long enough, and your tastes get more and more... twisted.”

“…”

A little distance away sat the one-eyed mercenary leader—Bernardo. He was reading a newspaper but couldn’t help eavesdropping on their conversation. At first, he assumed they’d be planning something important—like how they’d go about investigating South America. Instead…

They’re just bickering.

Bernardo lowered his paper, letting his gaze shift to Alucard and Fang Mo. Rays of bright sunlight bathed them through the window. They didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, laughing and joking as if on a vacation. If these two were really “immortal creatures,” they sure weren’t shy about daylight.

Meanwhile, someone was following the myths—Bernardo glanced toward the cargo hold, where a large coffin lay on the floor, wrapped in black bands and fastened with heavy straps. That was where the police girl had to stay.

As a vampire who had never drunk real blood, Seras was basically cannon fodder. Sure, her physique far exceeded a normal human’s—she could even handle a heavy machine gun—but her weaknesses were many. Sunlight, holy water, silver weapons… none of that bothered her master, who was out there soaking up the sun and bantering with Fang Mo, the so-called “Millennium Zombie King.”

But Seras? She was sealed like cargo, forced to hide in a coffin.

“...Sigh.”

Bernardo exhaled and went back to his newspaper. At least Alucard and Fang Mo eventually fell quiet. After a brief chat, Alucard sank into silence, gazing out the window, while Fang Mo looked absent, lost in thought. That mood lasted the entire flight.

They finally touched down. A local contact led them to their hotel, and the hush between Alucard and Fang Mo broke at last.

“I reserved two suites,”

Alucard announced to the front-desk clerk, who blinked uncertainly. “Do you recall a reservation under J.H. Bremer?”

“Oh, yes! Hello!”

The clerk rummaged under the desk. “Yes, here it is… two suites on the top floor, correct?”

“That’s right.”

Alucard nodded politely.

“Okay…” The clerk scanned the paperwork, then froze. “Um, the person traveling with you is… ‘He…’ This name is…???”

“... …”

Alucard’s calm smile stiffened slightly.

At that moment, Bernardo and his men began hauling a large, heavy object inside—clearly that coffin. Though they’d covered it with a white sheet, the shape still looked ominous.

“Excuse me, sir, but…”

The clerk looked alarmed. “Our hotel policy won’t allow…er… luggage like that on the premises.”

“Is that so?”

Alucard gave the clerk a meaningful look, prepared to exert his will if necessary. His scarlet eyes glowed faintly, intending to enthrall the man.

“Sir… you…”

The clerk’s gaze went glassy for a moment, but before Alucard’s compulsion could take hold, Fang Mo abruptly pressed a fistful of gold nuggets into the clerk’s hand.

“Here, kid, here’s your tip. Say ‘Thank you, Mr. Corpse King.’”

“Huh—?”

The front-desk clerk stared at the gold, dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Bernardo and company carried the coffin into the elevator, and by the time the clerk snapped out of it, it was basically a done deal. Casting nervous glances around, he discreetly proceeded with their check-in.

“A phony mind-control that crushes another’s will,”

Fang Mo said quietly, patting Alucard’s shoulder. “A true charmer would let them see your intentions and still have them obey you willingly. You’ve got a ways to go—learn from me instead…”

“I’m no incubus,”

Alucard retorted.

Once check-in was complete, they headed to the top-floor suites. In the original story, Alucard only booked one suite for himself and Seras. Now, because Fang Mo was along, they needed two. As for Bernardo, Alucard effectively kicked him to a cheap motel, saying it’d be easier for him to conduct his mercenary business without prying eyes.

“We’ll settle in today,”

Bernardo told them, unbothered by the snub. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll look for intel on the Last Battalion. For now, I’ll head out and see if some of the old informants are still around.”

“Kukuku, go on,”

Alucard answered, flashing a grim little smile. “I look forward to it…”

Bernardo left them to it. Alucard roamed the suite, then unfastened the coffin to free Seras.

“Ugh… finally out!”

She climbed out, blinking at the bright lights. “That coffin’s so cramped… so dark…”

“Cramped?”

Fang Mo snorted. “Just be glad you never came to my homeland. I’d show you how that tiny box could be your permanent home—”

“Y-you mean an urn for my ashes?”

Seras laughed awkwardly. “No thanks, Uncle Jiangshi. I’m not keen on being burned alive…”

It was already afternoon, and as evening set in, the sun dipped below the horizon.

“So you’re just staying here to do what, exactly?”
Alucard asked as night fell. “I booked you your own suite. Why are you hanging around?”

“Oh, we’re about to fight,”

Fang Mo replied blithely. He let go of Seras, who’d been harassed by his teasing, and shrugged. “You seriously think Millennium is just going to let us snoop around without any countermeasures? They already struck your HQ once, remember?”

“Mm?”

Alucard’s red eyes gleamed with excitement. “Is that so? I did smell something… dog-like in the air. Ha… a sleepless night, then. Perfect.”

“Huh?!”

Seras blinked, looking between them. “We’re fighting already? Who? Millennium?”

“I’d bet on the local police or military,”
Fang Mo said. “Millennium probably took control of the local higher-ups, promised them something. They’ll send in mere humans first.”

“Local humans?”

Seras looked dismayed. “That could cause an international incident—”

“What monster would care about that?!”

Fang Mo cut her off. He turned to Alucard with a smirk. “So, you scared, old man?”

“Do I look scared?”

Alucard’s grin was half-mad. “Human or monster, anyone who dares challenge me must die. That’s how it is.”

“Nice.”

Fang Mo gave him a thumbs-up. “Nothing less from my favorit—”

“But first, I’ll call Integra,”

Alucard interrupted. “I still follow my master’s commands.”

“…You spineless, whipped vampire,”

Fang Mo growled.

“What does that mean? Some kind of dialect?”
Seras scratched her head at the unfamiliar slang.

Fang Mo, though, had already lost patience.

“Fine, you go dial your ‘master.’ I can’t wait.”
He walked over to the balcony window, throwing it open. “The mod system’s been pinging all afternoon, and I’m done waiting…”

“Bansho Ten’in!”

In a flash, gravity pulsed around Fang Mo’s outstretched hand. Far off, the glass of another building shattered, and a cat-eared boy in a military uniform soared through the air, yanked by Fang Mo’s pull. The boy wore an expression that moved from confusion to alarm, like he’d glimpsed some unimaginable horror.

But just as Fang Mo was sure the new “mod” was his for the taking…

The airborne cat-eared boy whipped out a pistol and, without hesitation, pressed it under his own chin and pulled the trigger. Bang. His head burst like a melon, spraying blood across the night sky in a gruesome arc. And in that same instant, Fang Mo’s mod system went silent.

“Goddammit!”