Steve Chapter 895: Zorin Blitz (Patreon)

“You—”

Integra listened to Fang Mo’s explanation in a daze for quite a while, then helplessly pressed a hand to her forehead. “You’re a bit too extreme.”

“They’re the ones who’re bunched up too closely.”

Fang Mo spread his hands, making no effort to hide his disgust.

“Fine—let’s shelve that for now.”

Rubbing her temples, Integra said with a headache, “So, according to you, you’re not hostile to Hellsing or to Britain, right?”

“That’s right.”

Fang Mo nodded slowly. “Even though your cooking tastes like crap, that’s not a capital crime…”

“You—!”

A vein bulged on Integra’s forehead, but after a second she forced herself to swallow her anger. “All right. Since you said you act by following and fulfilling our desires, there’s something I need to ask you. Can you do it?”

“What is it?”

Fang Mo looked at her curiously.

“Help Alucard!” Integra blurted without hesitation. “He’s the trump card for ending Millennium. Walter and the Vatican have him pinned down; every second of delay means thousands of innocents die.”

“Sorry, I refuse.” Fang Mo shook his head at once.

“What?”

Integra froze. “Didn’t you just say—”

“I do follow and satisfy your desires, but you know as well as I do: everything in this world has its price. Only after you pay can you claim what’s yours.”

He spread his arms. “I’m no charity. I grant wishes because that spawns a chain of interesting consequences that entertain me. To me it’s like playing a game or watching a movie.”

“…So you’re basically a demon.”

Integra instantly caught on.

“And in this case your wish conflicts with Alucard’s.” Ignoring her accusation, Fang Mo changed tack. “So I’m not going to grant this particular desire.”

“What do you mean?”

Integra’s face stiffened. “You’re saying Alucard doesn’t want anyone to rescue him?”

“What else?”

Fang Mo glanced toward the distant Alucard and sighed. “Monsters are laughable creatures.

“You think they’re powerful, terrifying—your ultimate weapon.

“But in fact they’re lonely and sad. They’ve lost everything, yet must keep struggling to live… At bottom they’re just stray, homeless wretches.”

“This…”

Hearing the weight in his words, Integra instinctively looked at the undead king not far away. “Alucard, your real wish is…?”

“Van Helsing didn’t just defeat him—he redeemed him.”

Fang Mo explained calmly. “After centuries, only death can give Alucard peace. He yearns for it—hoping a human as great as your ancestor will one day kill him. That’s his long‑cherished wish.”

Integra fell silent.

She’d vaguely sensed this but never wanted to admit it.

Suddenly she snapped her head up, furious. “Damn it! Talking about wanting to die at a time like this… What a joke! I’ll never accept such stupidity!”

“So what exactly do you want to do?”

Fang Mo shrugged.

“Take me back to Hellsing headquarters!” Integra decided without a second’s pause. “Now—immediately!”

“Sure.”

Fang Mo rose leisurely from his plastic chair. “Hold on tight—don’t let go.”

He wasn’t too worried about the battlefield here. Alucard still had over three million souls inside him; even if Walter and Father Anderson killed him once every second, they’d need to go on for 800‑plus hours to finish him off—and Alucard wasn’t stupid enough to just stand there for a month.

Setting aside Fang Mo’s own ridiculous abilities, there’s really only one way this world could kill Alucard:

Absolute overwhelming force—

Forcing him to deploy his last resort beyond Seals III, II, I: Level Zero, the “River of the Dead.”

Only that move is Alucard’s true kill‑stroke:
Lifting all restraints and releasing every soul he’s ever devoured in one torrent, forming an army of the dead that devours all life.

Those dead soldiers fight at their peak strength, and the river empowers them further; ordinary foes are helpless, and even someone as strong as Father Anderson in the original couldn’t cope.

Yet once those souls are out, Alucard himself has only a single life left. Theoretically it’s the one chance to defeat and kill him—unless he drinks more blood mid‑battle or hides among the flood of corpses.

Even so…

Triggering Level Zero isn’t easy.

After Van Helsing beat him long ago, he put permanent restraints on Alucard. Seals III–II–I he can open himself, but Level Zero is too destructive: only a Hellsing family head can authorize it. As long as Integra refuses, Alucard can’t activate the River even if he wants to.

“I understand.”

Integra didn’t know what Fang Mo was thinking, but she wrapped her arms around him without hesitation. “All right, take off!”

“Fly?”

Fang Mo eyed her in surprise. “Fly how?”

“Are you not a hopping vampire?” Integra blinked, then urged him. “Hurry up and fly me back to headquarters!”

“Don’t you know it’s ‘children and the elderly board first’?”

Fang Mo said matter‑of‑factly. “Fine, I’ll fly—after you find me a tasty child…”

“Can you stop causing trouble at a time like this?!” Integra all but snarled. “Londoners are about to be wiped out! Where am I supposed to find you a child?”

“Forget it, then—I won’t fly.”

Fang Mo shrugged, snapped his fingers, and used Ender Blink. “We’ll just teleport—no way I’m letting you take advantage of me…”

A flash of emerald light—

The surroundings blurred, gravity vanished, and in the next instant everything cleared. The two of them were back inside the main castle of Hellsing Manor.

The stench of blood hit them at once.

“What happened?”

Integra’s brow knitted instantly. She drew her pistol. “Is Hellsing HQ under attack? Damn those Millennium motherfuc—”

“Why are you turning into Nick?”

Fang Mo face‑palmed beside her. “It’s one thing for Bald Nick to curse, his status allows it—but you’re a lady, why follow his lead?”

“What’s wrong with being a woman?!” Integra shot back. “Don’t you dare look down on me!”

“That’s not the point—”

“Aaaah!”

A familiar scream rang from the far end of the corridor: “Get out—get out of my head!”

“The police girl?!”

Integra reacted at once, sprinting toward the sound. “Wang Jiangchen, with me!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Fang Mo shrugged and followed.

After several turns they reached a broad, straight passage. The police girl was on her knees, pounding her head.

Corpses were strewn all around—
Some mercenaries, some Millennium vampire soldiers. Blood coated the hallway; even the walls were caked in gore. It was carnage.

The mercenary captain Bernadotte lay dead in a pool of blood, a huge hole through his chest near the heart. Stone‑cold.

Amid the mound of bodies stood a tall woman in bizarre garb, brandishing a scythe.

Her outfit was strange: army pants and high boots below, only a black tank top above. All exposed skin was covered in weird runes that radiated an ominous, evil vibe.

Runes even crawled over the right side of her face, warping that eye—its goat‑like pupil giving off a creepy aura.

“Hahaha—what trash?”

Unaware of the newcomers, the woman ground her boot on Seras’s head. The runes writhed like worms, flooding from her boot into Seras’s body, the latter clutching her skull in agony.

“You dared slaughter all my subordinates.”

With a smug grin she jammed her scythe into Seras’s armpit, stomped, and jerked the blade up. “Here’s a little lesson!”

A sickening splurt—

Blood fountained; Seras, half‑conscious, screamed as her right arm spun away.

“Yeah, scream louder.”

The woman licked the air with a purple‑black tongue, face twisted in bliss. “Good… Next strike will take your life—”

Bang, bang, bang!

Gunshots cracked. Silver bullets thudded into her chest; she staggered.

“Hm?”

She turned at last. “Reinforcements? Wait… Aren’t you Integra Hellsing?”

“Take your filthy foot off my subordinate’s head,” Integra said coldly. “Or abandon it—I’ll hack it off for you.”

“Oh‑ho.”

The woman laughed wildly, hoisted her scythe onto her shoulder and eyed Integra. “Caught a big fish! Even the Major will praise me… I’ll sever your limbs and haul you back.”

“Try it.”

Integra’s face was black as thunder.

“Heh‑heh‑heh.”

The woman’s laugh turned cruel. She slapped a palm on the wall. “Cry and wet yourself, Brit!”

Runes wriggled frantically, flooding across the wall toward Integra. In an instant the space blurred; purple‑black mist swallowed everything.

?!

Integra frowned and, without hesitation, retreated behind Fang Mo.

“Seriously, girl—”

Fang Mo rubbed his forehead.

Before he could say more, the scenery morphed: bodies and gore vanished; the corridor became the hallway of an old school, classroom signs hanging—exactly like one in Fang Mo’s memories.

“Again with this damn trick.”

He sighed, realizing the enemy’s game.

If memory served, the woman was Zorin Blitz, who used runes to project hallucinations—his least‑favorite opponent type. But his mind now had several layers of shields; he wouldn’t break that fast.

“Cotton Moon! Cotton Mizuki, stop sleeping!” he shouted. “Your master’s under attack!”

The words had barely left his lips when a cherry‑pink blade pierced the illusion—as if thrust through a mirror. The katana flew into Fang Mo’s hand, and cracks split the dreamscape.

“Good girl.”

He grinned and slashed forward. “Split for me!”

With that stroke, the dream‑world shattered like glass.

When the shards fell away, he found himself in an old, shabby house.

“Huh?”

He blinked. “Where the hell is this? I’m still not out?”

Then he heard a familiar sound ahead—flesh slapping flesh—along with panting and curses.

“Wait… could this be—”

A strange look crossed his face.

He kicked the wooden door—bang!—to splinters. Several thugs inside stared, stunned; one straddled the still‑warm corpse of a woman, another body lay nearby.

On a bloody table photo was a family portrait: a man, a woman, and a blond little girl who looked just like Seras.

“Knew it—this sick scene again.”

Fang Mo’s expression soured.

In the original, Zorin had forced Seras to relive her childhood trauma: her family gunned down, the thugs necrophiling her mother while young Seras hid in a cupboard—horrific even by his standards.

Chinese web‑authors wouldn’t dare; Japanese censors really are something.

“You bastards—”

The thugs hesitated, then drew guns—only to be diced to ribbons in the next instant.

Fang Mo scanned the room, spotted the wooden cabinet, strode over, yanked out the trembling little girl.

“Eep!”

She was terrified. “Mister, I’m just a kid!”

“…Right.”

He twitched but patted her head. “It’s over. Nightmares belong in the trash forever.”

With that, he swung his blade—

The world cracked again, illusion dissolving, runes dispersing; everything returned to normal.

“What… is this?!”

Not far off, Zorin’s face went pale as she saw them break free. “Impossible! Go back to sleep—”

“Police girl.”

At Fang Mo’s word, Zorin felt something clamp her neck from behind—an unbelievable force.

“Crush her into mincemeat,” Fang Mo ordered coolly from a few steps away.