Steve Chapter 897: What's wrong with you? (Patreon)

“Wait … where on earth did you get that thing?!”

Hearing what Fang Mo had just said, Integra’s face also took on an incredulous expression.
“Hydra—the nine‑headed serpent—comes from Greek mythology, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” Fang Mo shrugged indifferently. “My backyard is crawling with them … ”

To be fair, he wasn’t exaggerating.

What he had just fed the police girl really was genuine hydra blood. To be more precise, though, it was Scorching Blood, one of the drops from a Hydra in the Twilight Forest.

In‑game, the stuff is a crafting material: combine it with an iron ingot on a crafting table to make a Fiery Ingot, which you can then turn into a Fiery Pickaxe, Fiery Sword, or a full set of Fiery Armor.

Within the Twilight Forest itself, that gear is actually pretty useful—
the pickaxe even auto‑smelts ores.

When Fang Mo forged the Flame Demon Sword “Laevateinn,” he’d mixed in some of this very material―until he later replaced it with the even better Sun‑Steel.

Can’t be helped; the man has unlocked way too many mods.

Even setting aside “reality‑warping,” the Aureate Rapier Steve is carrying now has insane attack power. A Hydra used to be a fairly challenging boss in the Twilight Forest; these days it can’t even survive a single swing from Steve.

So Fang Mo calling the Twilight Forest his “backyard” really isn’t wrong.

Anyway,

The reason Fang Mo could toss the police girl a bottle of Hydra blood at a moment’s notice was mainly thanks to JEI (Just‑Enough‑Items). The mod’s search function is absurdly powerful—one of its most useful features is text‑searching for any item in the game.

All Fang Mo had to do was activate his ability and think of the word “blood.”

JEI would trawl through vanilla Minecraft and every installed mod, spitting out anything related to blood: More Ores’ Bucket of Blood, Tinkers’ Construct’s Coagulated Blood, Blood Magic’s Orbs, or even Tinkers’ supplementary modifier Bloody Mary.

In short, a single thought and he instantly knew every relevant item.

That Scorching Blood had caught his eye during one such search. With so many mods installed, he can’t possibly remember every item; that’s where JEI shines.

He’d already been curious about these “vampires” in the Hellsing scenario.

According to their lore, blood is literally the currency of the soul—steal blood, and you control life. That’s why he first tried feeding the police girl a bowl of Coagulated Blood.

Unfortunately, Tinkers’ blood is treated as “ownerless,” so even after drinking it she couldn’t dominate anyone’s life.

But he happened to have a bottle of Scorching Blood in his storage—originally he’d planned to prank Fury with it back in the Marvel world, then forgot about it. Perfect time to test it on the police girl.

After drinking Hydra blood, she seemed to possess a fully‑grown Hydra inside her—and judging by what they’d just seen, this beast was a lot fiercer than its in‑game version. Right now her power must be off the charts.

“Mm‑hm. Very nice,” Fang Mo nodded, satisfied. “First chance we get, I’ll take you over to Marvel so you can moonlight as Hydra’s new mascot.”

“Huh?” The police girl blinked blankly. “Mascot? Me?”

“Seras, are you feeling any better?”

At that moment Bernardo spoke up again in concern. “I don’t really get all those random mythology references … but are you still in pain?”

“I— I’m fine now.”

Grateful, the police girl shook her head. Her cheeks flushed for no reason and, eyes cast down, she whispered, “Um … welcome back, Captain Bernardo …”

Clap clap clap!

Suddenly, applause rang out. Everyone turned; Fang Mo was gazing at the pair with a deeply moved expression.

“Now what are you up to?” Integra frowned at him.

“How can the god of wholesome romance like me not be touched by such pure, sincere love? I am overwhelmed—truly overwhelmed!”

He even pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed theatrically at the corner of his eye. “Look, I’m so moved I’m leaking prosta— cough cough, no, I mean I’m shedding tears!!!”

“All right, I get it,” Integra said through a dark face. “So your true identity is a horse, huh?”

“You and Fury are starting to look like an old married couple, you know,” Fang Mo sighed, then smoothly changed the subject. “Anyway, is it really okay for us to stand around chatting? People are still dying over in London, aren’t they?”

“Who the hell is chatting?!” Integra finally couldn’t hold it in and roared.

“Ah… ha‑ha‑ha …” The police girl and Bernardo laughed awkwardly—everyone in Hellsing knew Integra got driven crazy by a certain someone on a regular basis.

“No laughing, you two!” Integra snapped, then barked, “Police girl!”

“Ma’am!” Seras reflexively snapped to attention.

“Go to London with me immediately and rescue civilians,” Integra ordered. “Bernardo, you stay here and guard Hellsing HQ!”

“You don’t need me to come along?” Bernardo asked. “I’ve still got wounded men in the basement. Thanks to that amulet they can still fight.”

“Stay,” Integra insisted. “The manor’s security matters too. It’s been burned down once already—I don’t want to see it in ruins again.”

“Very well, I understand.” Bernardo nodded. He knew this was a monster war; as an ordinary human he’d just be a liability, so he agreed without protest.

“Good—let’s go.” Integra turned to Fang Mo. “King—that is, what do we even call you?”

“If all else fails, just call me Fang Mo,” he said cheerfully, now that the story was nearing its finale.

“You’d better not be lying this time,” Integra grumbled. “Fine—hurry up and take us back to save people.”

“Can’t do it,” Fang Mo shook his head.

“What?!” Integra’s expression shifted. “Didn’t you appear here in an instant? Why can’t you go back?”

“I set a teleport beacon in my own lair, but not in London.” He shrugged. In truth, his teleport works because Reisen is here and all his Tinkers’ weapons have Brown Magic, basically an Ender‑Blink effect like Flying Raijin. But he hadn’t left a weapon on the battlefield, so no instant jump.

“Then we’ll fly back,” Integra decided after a pause.

“Ladies and kids first,” Fang Mo refused flatly. “Unless you wanna cosplay an old granny for me …”

“You—!”

“Um, Miss Integra,” Seras piped up timidly before the fight could start again. “How about I take us?”

“Hm?” Integra turned.

“I’m not sure why, but I feel power surging through me,” Seras looked down at her hands. “It’s like that ‘thing’ became part of me. If I use it, we should be fine.”

“Good,” Integra said decisively. “Take us to London, police girl!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Seras activated her new power. After a brief buildup, an enormous shadow expanded beneath her feet, then a colossal creature rose, bursting the second‑floor corridor apart. Integra staggered, quickly regaining her balance—and then witnessed an utterly absurd sight.

The floor was gone; in its place loomed the head of a gigantic cold‑blooded beast, dark teal scales like forged steel. The head alone was larger than a car, and it was still rising.

Inky shadow churned like a swamp, boiling up.

A second head, a third—more and more gargantuan skulls emerged until nine massive serpentine heads towered overhead, followed by a mountain‑sized torso, earth‑rending limbs, and a tail so thick ten men couldn’t encircle it.

“Miss Integra, hold on tight,” came Seras’s voice. The behemoth lunged forward, its talons slamming the ground with force enough to pancake a tank, then thundered toward London.

Everything in its path—trees, cars, walls, even London town‑houses—was pulverized. Each footfall shook the earth; as the beast charged on, entire streets quaked like an earthquake.

With a hurricane roar, it barreled straight into the city center.

…

Meanwhile, not far away, a transport aircraft dangled a strange glass pulpit beneath it. Inside, crisply suited Enrico Maxwell ranted in delirious delight: “Ha‑ha‑ha! Yes! Slaughter these heretics!!”

Of course, if Father Anderson was on the field, the Vatican’s Crusaders were bound to show up too.

Ordinarily their first target should have been Millennium’s vampire army—but with the city already a corpse‑ridden hellscape, Maxwell no longer cared. He ordered indiscriminate fire on everything in sight.

Even weeping civilians begging for mercy died under Crusader spears and cannon.

“Ha‑ha-ha! Die, all you English heretics!”

Perhaps he would have ordered a massacre anyway—he’s that extreme. At this moment he even opened all‑channels, ranting madly: “I’ll kill them all! Kill them all!!!”

But as he reveled, a deep, thunderous boom rolled through the air, shaking the bulletproof glass around him. Maxwell instinctively turned to look. “Hm? What’s th—”

That single glance struck him like lightning.

“God! What the hell is that monster!?”

From the direction he was staring, an impossibly huge, mythic horror broke through buildings and charged straight for him—like a mountain ripping free of the earth, terrifying beyond words.

Yes: the charging beast was the Hydra.

Not that anyone intended to attack Maxwell; Alucard’s battle was on the other side of the city. Under Seras’s command, the creature was simply rushing to its destination.

“Haul me up! Now!!!”

Seeing the living mountain racing toward him, Maxwell panicked, pounding on the glass walls. “Up! Pull up and dodge that thi—”

Too late.

The transport had barely climbed a few meters when one Hydra head slammed the glass pulpit. CRASH! Bulletproof panels shattered; Maxwell tumbled out, plummeting toward the ground.

“Goooooooood!!!”

He screamed all the way down—yet fortune favored him: the streets were piled high with corpses. They cushioned the fall; he rolled twice, battered but alive. “I— I actually survived?”

He hadn’t even caught his breath when the bodies around him twitched.

They were all bitten by artificial vampires and had just turned into ghouls. One by one they rose, blood‑hungry eyes fixing on Maxwell.

“I’m done for!” Maxwell’s face went chalk‑white. “I’m absolutely dead!!!”