Steve Chapter 898: Sacrifice Schrödinger for the Mod! (Patreon)

Maxwell stared around him in panic at the surrounding ghouls.

He tried to cry for help, but the next second several blood‑stained fingers were shoved into his mouth. The ghouls pounced, fighting one another to devour the fresh meat before them.

Driven by bloodlust, the creatures paid no heed to Maxwell’s desperate struggles. A forest of mutilated arms pinned him to the ground like a whole roast lamb pressed to a banquet table, ripping, chewing, savoring the sweet flesh and the nourishing taste of fresh blood.

Yet he was still one of the Church’s highest clergy.

In that moment Maxwell finally awakened the miracle of “word‑as‑law.”

Just before the ghouls tore him completely apart, he recalled the words he had blurted out in his terror moments earlier—and, as fate would have it, those words proved prophetic.

So… this really is the end for me.

Thus—

One of the three factions vying in London’s chaos, the supreme commander of the Vatican Crusaders,

Archbishop Maxwell,

was utterly slain.

…

And the instigator of the carnage?

Among those on the Hydra, only Integra dimly sensed it.

“Wait a moment.”

She looked back on reflex. “Did we just hit something? A helicopter?”

“Eh? Really?”

The policewoman was bewildered; all her attention was fixed on Alucard’s aura, so she hadn’t noticed the bug‑like Maxwell at all. Worried, she asked, “Was it London police? If so—”

“No. Any police are surely already dead.”

Integra took a deep breath. “That insignia just now—should be the Vatican…”

“No need to guess.”

Fang Mo, beside her, cut in: “The one we brushed past was Maxwell. He wanted some crusade to ‘reclaim lost ground,’ but by now his bones are probably being licked clean by ghouls.”

“Him?”

Integra’s voice sank; she grasped the situation at once. “Damn it, the Vatican means to destroy us Protestants amid the chaos?”

“Focus on something else first.”

Seeing Integra still brooding, Fang Mo reminded her: “If you have mental bandwidth, use it to think about how you’ll face Alucard in a moment.”

“Face the Master?”

The policewoman looked over, puzzled. “Miss Integra and the Master had a falling‑out?”

“Not exactly.” Fang Mo gazed at the fiery ruins below. “It’s just that Alucard’s wish is rather… special. So I’m curious, Integra: will you selfishly keep him by your side, or grant his wish?”

“ Tch…”

Integra’s brows knotted tightly.

“Eh? What?”

Because she’d been fighting at Hellsing HQ earlier, the policewoman didn’t understand the subtleties and was utterly confused. “Miss Integra, Uncle Fang, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Just drive.”

Fang Mo didn’t explain. He pointed ahead: “If you’re bored, start clearing the small fry.”

“O‑okay, I’ll try…”

Though hesitant, the policewoman nodded.

Under her mental control the Hydra’s behavior changed.

It had only been sprinting, but now several heads stirred—as though they’d come alive. Blank giant pupils roved, surveying the streets.

As mentioned earlier, because of the Millennium vampire battalion’s rampage,

every civilian here was dead; everywhere shambling ghouls filled the roads.

The Hydra suddenly inhaled deeply; its long, massive necks ballooned, firelight surging up.

Three jaws gaped—

and triple torrents of flame lanced out from the Hydra’s throats. The instant they struck, fire swept the entire street into a blazing sea.

Ghouls writhed and howled in the blaze,

but within seconds they charred, collapsed, and crumbled to ashen dust.

The Hydra’s flames were so hot that not only corpses but cars, lampposts, guardrails—any metal object—melted into streams of red‑hot liquid.

“Where did that power come from…?”

Integra was momentarily dazed.

“I’m sorry, but please rest in peace,” the policewoman murmured sadly; after all, the ghouls had once been Londoners, so she pressed her palms in prayer.

After this brief interlude,

they soon moved on—

only now the policewoman cleared enemies while advancing.

It had long been said: Fang Mo’s “materialization” ability is unique; not only items but even living beings cannot escape its effects.

If he materialized ordinary villagers,

they would be mere powerless merchants.

But if he materialized fantastical or mythic creatures… they didn’t keep their game stats.

Instead, they referenced real‑world legends.

Take this Hydra:

In Twilight Forest its model starts with three heads and grows more when injured.

Materialized into reality,

it simply sprouted nine heads outright—

and its size grew absurdly large.

In the forest it wasn’t especially huge, but in reality the Hydra towered like a mountain, rampaging through London so fiercely Fang Mo felt as if King Ghidorah had descended.

And like Ghidorah,

the real‑world Hydra seemed to let each head think independently.

Now that it had become part of the policewoman’s life, she was effectively a multicore CPU: nine brains and one lovestruck brain, running parallel threads.

For example now:

while she directed the Hydra to gallop,

several heads scanned distant streets, mapping enemy positions,

while others brewed flames, spitting fire as they ran—an efficiency that was almost unbelievable.

“Tsk tsk, this vampire’s pretty awesome too…”

Seated cross‑legged atop the Hydra, Fang Mo rubbed his chin. “I recall the Gaia Bestiary has vampire girls. Maybe I’ll materialize one later?”

He wasn’t kidding.

The Gaia Bestiary mod indeed includes many mythic monster girls.

“You’re muttering to yourself again?”

Integra asked suddenly.

“Oh, nothing.” Fang Mo shook his head, banishing the Rabbit Goddess image. “What’s up?”

“Do you think…”

After a pause Integra asked, “If I deny Alucard’s wish… is that selfish?”

“Not really—people are selfish.”

Fang Mo thought, then said.

“Then,” Integra hesitated, “if… if I grant his wish, wouldn’t that be cruel? It would be like killing him with my own hands.”

“Put yourself in his shoes.”

Fang Mo spread his hands. “Suppose you’re a vampire, dragged from death by a little boy to spend every day fighting. You like him, sure, but aren’t you in agony? A blood‑drinking monster—don’t you loathe yourself?”

“If he knew your pain and helped you end it, would you hate him?”

“I wouldn’t,” Integra answered after thinking. “Actually, I’d be grateful.”

“There you go.”

Fang Mo smiled. “See? You already understand it.”

“Do I…?”

Integra seemed enlightened, nodding slowly. “Thank you—I think I know what to do.”

“You’re welcome.”

Fang Mo shrugged, then pointed to the ruins ahead. “We’ve arrived. Your stage awaits.”

“Eh?”

Integra blinked, then looked forward.

Sure enough, among the rubble three figures were locked in battle. Alucard, fully released, was a red‑black mist clashing with Walter and Anderson.

The latter two were no ordinary men:

with bayonet and wires they sliced any limb Alucard extended, flooding the arena with blood.

“Alucard!”

Unable to restrain herself, Integra shouted: “Fight at full power! Release Control Art Restriction System, Level Zero—open!”

“Oh!”

At her cry, the mist‑form Alucard grinned wildly. “My darling master, Integra—ha ha ha! I’ve waited so long for this!”

“Return, Count…”

Integra’s face was complicated, but she grit her teeth and continued: “Fight the enemy with all you have! Kill every foe! Show no mercy… This is my final order!”

“As you wish, my master.”

Alucard backed off a little and began an incantation: “The bird of Hermes is my name…”

At his words,

a dreadful aura swept the battlefield.

“!!” “?!”

Walter and Anderson’s faces changed as they launched frenzied attacks, desperate to stop him.

“It’s coming! It’s coming!”

High above, atop the giant zeppelin, the Major overlooking London grew ecstatic. “The dead dance, hell sings—the river from Hades is nigh!”

And indeed,

Alucard’s body boiled; the red‑black shadows swelled against all physics, blotting sky and earth, spreading across London with uncanny speed.

“Level Zero: The River of the Dead.”

At that very instant, Fang Mo raised both hands: “The World.”

A spherical field of frozen time burst outward. London, shrouded in crimson, fell into eerie silence—everything halted. The once‑raucous battlefield became terrifyingly still.

“Hmm… finally showed yourself.”

Within the frozen world Fang Mo lifted his gaze to a nearby tower. “Schrödinger.”

From the start,

Fang Mo had stared intently at his minimap.

The moment Alucard unleashed the River of the Dead, the familiar cartoon‑cat icon reappeared.

This time, Fang Mo would give him no chance to escape.

The instant Schrödinger surfaced, Fang Mo stopped time, blinked to the tower, and—just to be safe—clubbed him with tranquilizer rounds.

Only then did he begin an exhaustive examination, practically dicing Schrödinger into tiny chunks, whereupon a heavenly chime rang:

[System prompt: Having researched concepts such as “observer effect,” “consciousness is self,” “idealism,” and “the One is All,” you have unlocked permission to download a new mod.]