Steve Chapter 884: Wtf is Going on Again? (Patreon)

“Dammit!!!”

Fang Mo cursed when he found himself holding a headless corpse.

“Huh?!”

Not far away, Seras jumped at the sight. She stared at the frail, bloody, headless body. “U-Uncle Jiangshi, who’s… this kid?”

“He’s no kid,”

Fang Mo growled, frowning. He yanked the corpse in through the window. “This is one of Millennium’s top fighters—one of the Major’s prized assets. His name’s Schrödinger… I’ve been after him for quite a while, but he still managed to slip away.”

“Slip away?”

Seras glanced at the dripping body, utterly confused. “But he—he’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Dead? He’s nowhere near dead.”

Fang Mo dragged the corpse into the suite’s living room and began arranging Dark Cobblestone on the floor. “His abilities are rather special, even better than Alucard’s at ‘not dying.’”

“…Huh?”

Seras didn’t believe it. “Seriously?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

Fang Mo didn’t bother with further detail. He took out his Abyssal Book, ready to perform a Time Reversal ritual to pull Schrödinger back.

He wasn’t lying—he really had been aiming to capture Schrödinger for a while.

That cat-eared “boy” might look like a carefree kid in a Waffen-SS youth uniform, all innocent on the surface. But he possessed the single most abstract power in all of Hellsing.

Officially, he was the personification of the “Schrödinger’s cat” concept in quantum physics, letting him “observe himself” and induce a quantum phase shift in his own existence. Fang Mo didn’t claim to understand quantum mechanics—he just had a hunch the power was very high-level, potentially unlocking some of his in-system mods.

So how broken were Schrödinger’s powers?
If you sum it up in eight words, it’s:

“He is everywhere; he can’t die nor be destroyed.”

That’s right—just by believing he “exists” somewhere, he instantly appears there—no portals needed. If he believes he “won’t die,” then it doesn’t matter if he’s blown up, burned, decapitated, or vaporized at the atomic level—he’ll pop back up intact the next second, in some random location. Case in point: you might see him “dead” now, but he’s not really dead. It’s like Schrödinger’s Cat, forever superimposed between life and death.

Which was why Fang Mo planned on using the Time Reversal ritual.

Using standard Dark Resurrection wouldn’t help, because Schrödinger technically wasn’t truly dead. The cheat was that if he never truly dies, that item-based “revival” option was useless. Talk about a major headache.

“What are you doing?”

Sensing a bizarre, twisted power radiating from Fang Mo’s magic circle, Alucard couldn’t help asking.

“A forbidden eastern sorcery from my homeland,”
Fang Mo said lightly. “No little boy can escape my clutches; I’m gonna drag him back and thoroughly degrade him.”

“Ha… haha…”

Seras let out a nervous laugh.

“You think I’m joking?”

Fang Mo glanced at her. “You know my nickname in Japan? ‘Father Mapo.’ I love using mapo tofu to fill little bo—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the ritual altar in front of him suddenly billowed with an ominous black mist.

An unspeakable, logic-defying evil presence reverberated through the air, warping everything. Runes in the air seemed to come alive and began to dart around in an unholy dance.

“Ah?”

Fang Mo froze. “What… is this?”

“Police girl!”

Alucard grasped the gravity of the situation immediately, eyes narrowing. “Get down, arms over your ears—don’t look at anything!”

“R-right!”

Seras obeyed reflexively, crouching low and covering her head.

A second later, all those symbols blurred, turning into swirling patches of kaleidoscopic color. Then, in one colossal whoosh—like muffled thunder—they exploded. Black fog roiled across the room, rattling the entire building.

It wasn’t a physically massive explosion.
Fang Mo simply felt like someone had rapped him on the back of the head. But in his mind’s eye, bizarre images and voices flashed: swirling orbs of light, green flames, dead planets, and the ravings of an old friend named Nyarlathotep. All intangible, all seemingly mocking him.

“Damn.”

Fang Mo realized, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. “They’re laughing at me.”

Yes, Abyssal Magic was basically about calling on beings from beyond—offering sacrifices to please them, and receiving power in return. A normal practitioner might go insane from failure, but Fang Mo was on friendly terms with those outer gods. He wouldn’t lose his mind… but he’d certainly get jeered at.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Alucard rushed over, eyes blazing. “What kind of stunt are you pulling?!”

“Uhh, well…”

Fang Mo scratched his head awkwardly. “Must’ve messed up the ritual. Wrong day to do curses, I guess.”

“You think you can fool me? You were making a deal with something just now, weren’t you?” Alucard’s voice was dark. “That presence was pure madness. You’d better pray it never fully sets foot in our world!”

“Oh, we’re practically pals,”

Fang Mo quipped, but seeing how serious Alucard looked, he relented. “All right, all right. I’ll knock it off for now.”

“Not ‘for now.’ Forever,”

Alucard snapped. “Do you have any idea how—”

He stopped short as, outside the window, a sudden roar of engines and dazzling light poured in, shining straight at the two of them.

Alucard turned to see a helicopter hovering just beyond the building. Inside, two figures who looked like TV reporters pointed cameras at them, the pilot’s voice audible over the rotor noise:

“This is Julia Eduardo with Bashi TV. We’re reporting live from the Rio Reconstructed Hotel, where the situation continues to escalate… We believe terrorists still hold the building. Two hours ago there was an unexplained explosion, but the army has arrived to lay siege. We expect a swift resolution—”

“Huh?”

“Mm?”

Fang Mo and Alucard both raised their eyebrows.

“So your prediction was spot on, I see,”

Alucard said, twisting his lips in a deranged grin. “Excellent. I’m in a foul mood—time to blow off some steam.”

“An explosion two hours ago?”

Fang Mo looked puzzled. Gazing out at the sky, he noticed it was fully dark. Yet earlier, it had just been twilight. It was as if two hours had vanished.

“Must be the aftereffect of my failed time-reversal ritual…”

he mumbled, rubbing his chin. “Time got warped, and it rebounded back on me as the caster…”

“What are you muttering about?”

Alucard had already drawn his oversized handgun. “Your weird magic is busted. Now focus—there’s a fight waiting. Police girl!”

He gave Seras a swift kick.

“Ah! M-Master? Are we safe now?”

She’d been huddled in a ball, arms over her ears.

“No. This is just beginning,”

Alucard snapped. “Get your weapon. Tonight’s going to be fun.”

“Y-Yes!”

Scrambling upright, Seras ran to her coffin and pulled out a massive gun nearly as big as she was. “I’m ready, Master. Our enemy is…?”

“Anyone who tries to attack us,”

Alucard said flatly. “Integra gave the order—kill on sight. Don’t hold back—”

“What? Even if they’re normal humans? They might just be mind-contro—”

“Still clinging to pointless mercy?”

Alucard, irked, grabbed her by the collar. “Weren’t they the ones who picked up their guns first, to kill us? Human or not, they die so we can live. That’s war—no God can question it—”

“Hey, no need to be so harsh,”

Fang Mo interjected with a playful grin, peeling Alucard’s hand off Seras. Then he turned to her. “Don’t worry, kiddo. You’ve got a simple job tonight…”

“Phew…”

Relieved, Seras realized that “Uncle Jiangshi” was actually quite kind to her—he cooked for her, saved her from trouble. Sure, calling herself his “niece” was weird, but she thought maybe it wasn’t so bad having an uncle like that.

Not that she could dwell on it for long, because Fang Mo’s voice turned ominous:

“…Just stay alive.”

“Eh?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Three,”

Fang Mo stepped to the window. Outside, the building was surrounded by troops who didn’t dare rush in. “Two.”

“U-Uncle Jiangshi, what are you…? I’m scared.”

“One.”

With that last count, Fang Mo snapped his fingers.

At once, the entire building rumbled violently. Flames burst on the lower floors, then the second, the third… Fire roared through the corridors, load-bearing walls collapsed, and in a thunderous cacophony, the entire structure toppled almost instantly.

“T-Terrorists must’ve set off explosives!”

The reporter in the helicopter yelled over the camera feed. “They’re insane! How on earth did they get that much explosive?!”

Nearby, at a makeshift command post, a uniformed officer turned to a tall, strange man nicknamed Tubalcain, speaking obsequiously. “We did as you asked—detonated the building. That’s enough, yes?”

“Hmph, you underestimate Alucard,”

the man calling himself Tubalcain snickered. “He’s the Vampire King. A collapse like that won’t kill him outright—maybe injure him. Fine, I’ll finish him off myself.”

So saying, Tubalcain stepped out of the command tent, throwing the flap aside. “Everyone, I’ll return with good ne—”

He broke off. Beyond the rubble, the wreckage suddenly shuddered.

“Shinra Tensei.”

An unknown voice rang out across the night. Tubalcain froze in disbelief, watching as an invisible force lifted the tons of debris, hurling it aside like confetti.