Steve Chapter 901: DAMN YOU, WANG JIANGCHEN!!! (Patreon)

“Type Zero: Shit River.”

The moment that suffocating voice echoed—

The entire city of London trembled. Cried out. And from the tower where Fang Mo stood, a colossal brown wave of despair exploded into the sky.

This wasn’t like Alucard’s technique, where he burned away his life force. No—

Fang Mo’s broad-bladed sword had been enhanced with an absurdly broken “onsen machine” mod.

Its effect? Terrifying. Illogical. Limitless.

It released a specific, foul liquid in exponential waves, completely disregarding physics or reality. As long as the area was lower in elevation than him—it would be submerged. Entirely.

Back in the Marvel world, Fang Mo once used this very sword to wipe out the Kree homeworld. And now…

Something even more ridiculous had arrived.

Walter, eyes wide in disbelief, watched a thick, sludge-like tsunami rise around the tower. The smell hit next—horrific and overwhelming.

In a single instant—

London was thrown back to medieval times.

No plumbing. No sewers. Nobles doused in perfume and wearing heels just to dodge the mess on the streets.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

Even with all his newfound power and calm, Walter’s expression shattered. The legendary reaper of Hellsing—now seconds away from turning around and bolting.

And then—

The brown tide surged right for his face.

“NO! STAY BACK!!”

Panicked, Walter flung out his wires and wove them into a tight mesh shield.

But this stuff was still liquid.

Sure, his wires could block bullets and blades, but this revolting soup? It seeped right through. Brown sludge leaked out from the mesh.

“ARGH!!!”

Walter’s face turned ghostly pale. Without hesitation, he ditched the wires, yanked out his backups, and threw them toward a nearby rooftop.

They caught. He pulled hard.

And like a last-minute Spider-Man, he swung away, arcing dramatically through the sky to escape.

He could’ve taken on Alucard’s undead army without flinching.

He’d run toward the Vampire King if given the chance.

But this?

This wasn’t about courage or power.

This was literal shit.

If anyone saw him touched by it? The “Grim Reaper” Walter would be remembered as the “Crap Reaper.”

And that—he would not allow.

“DAMN YOU, WANG JIANGCHEN!!!”

Furious, Walter ran, holding his breath. Screw Alucard. Screw honor. There was no dignity in drowning in brown sewage.

…

Meanwhile…

“Huh?”

Seras, standing atop Hydra’s head, looked up suddenly. “Wait… what’s that?”

“Hmm?” Integra stood beside her, distracted.

Still reeling from the emotional chaos of learning Alucard wanted to die, her mind was elsewhere.

“Um… Miss Integra…”

Seras tugged her arm, voice panicked. “Please look at this.”

“What now?”

Integra glanced up—

And immediately froze.

A massive tide of sludge was barreling straight at them, like a landslide from hell.

“WHAT IS THAT?!”

Before she could react, the stench hit.

Her stomach churned violently.

And now, she knew exactly what it was.

“We have to run—NOW! Seras, MOVE!!”

“B-But where to?!”

Seras looked around frantically.

“Up there!”

Integra pointed to the floating Millennium zeppelin.

“The blimp! GET TO THE BLIMP!”

“Y-Yes ma’am!!”

Hydra hurled them upward like a pair of missiles. Its body dissolved into black-red mist and returned to Seras before the tide could reach it.

Midair, Seras summoned Hydra again. One head lashed out like a snake and clamped onto the zeppelin’s hull.

They swung wildly, then landed on top of the massive airship—right on the balloon.

They had barely touched down when they noticed several figures nearby.

The Millennium elite.

A short, round man. A cat-eared boy. A tall, silent guy. And a weird scientist with six overlapping lenses on his face.

At the center was the Major—clad in white, radiating madness. But right now? He stood frozen, both hands raised awkwardly, like a conductor cut off mid-performance.

He stared down at London, watching the red-lit, burning city get swallowed up by a brown blanket of filth.

“……”

No one moved.

Even the scientist looked stunned, gnawing on his fingers with an expression full of confusion, shock, and existential dread.

“You’re… the last of Millennium, huh?”

Integra finally broke the silence.

The group turned.

The silent man’s bloodlust flared immediately.

Seras leapt in front of Integra, guarding her.

“Easy, Captain Werewolf.” The Major finally spoke. “Well, this is quite the reunion.”

“Reunion?”

Integra scoffed. “You war criminals should’ve been wiped off the map fifty years ago. I’ll make sure you don’t walk away this time.”

“Tsk tsk. So harsh, Miss Hellsing.”

The Major smiled.

“We’re lunatics, yes. But pointless death? That’s what we hate the most. We came here for something more important than dying.”

“Let me guess. Another war?”

“Maybe.” He pointed toward the tower. “But first—tell me. What is that?”

Integra scowled.

She knew the answer. She just didn’t want to say it.

The smell confirmed it. But seriously—who the hell launches a poop flood from London’s city center?

This felt like a nightmare.

And yet it was real. Too real.

“…That’s—”

“No, no,” the Major interrupted. “I know it’s crap. I’m asking—do you know the man who made it?”

“You mean… Fang Mo? You’re saying he did this?!”

“Who else?”

The Major shrugged. “Does that look like the work of something human?”

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!”

Integra snapped. Blood pressure surging.

“Damn it, Wang Jiangchen!! What the hell is WRONG with you?!”

She was so pissed, she forgot his actual name.

“So this isn’t his first time, huh?” The Major laughed.

“Major…”

The six-eyed scientist spoke up. “It’s not stopping. What about our plan?”

“Ah, the plan…”

The Major adjusted his glasses. “Yes, important. But this? This is more than important. This is… revolutionary. Don’t you agree?”

“What plan?!”

Seras yelled.

“Sorry. Classified,” the Major smirked. Then turned to Integra. “So, shall we talk more about him?”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you nutjobs—”

“He’s more dangerous than Alucard,” the Major interrupted, arms outstretched.

**“More dangerous than Nazis. More dangerous than every nuclear warhead combined. Look at that flood. It’s not slowing down.”

“What…?”

Integra looked down.

And saw it.

The wave was growing. Higher. Stronger.

It had already swallowed Alucard’s River of the Dead.

Yes—an entire army of millions of undead.

Gone.

The vampires, Vatican soldiers, ghouls, even civilians—they were all buried beneath the tsunami of sludge.

And ironically?

It had put out the fires.

Gross? Yes. But technically helpful.

Still, the flood didn’t stop. It rolled onward toward the coast. Toward the countryside.

“…This isn’t good.”

A terrifying thought hit Integra.

If this continued… if Fang Mo didn’t stop…

Europe might be next.

“No. This has to end.”

“Seras!”

“Yes!”

“We’re going to stop that bastard.”

“Got it!”

Together, they launched off the zeppelin, flying toward the tower.

Seras used a dragon head to shoot flames behind her like a rocket, steering them midair. They landed—just barely—on the high tower.

“We made it, Miss Integra!”

“WANG JIANGCHEN!!”

Integra didn’t waste a second. She stormed toward Fang Mo, gun raised.

“STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!”

“Shh, almost done…”

“NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP!”

Both Integra and Seras shouted.

“Alright, alright.”

Fang Mo shrugged and pulled out the sword.

But the second he did—

The ground shook. The flood boiled. Flames erupted everywhere.

London turned from hell into something even worse.

“YOU—WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?!”

“Wasn’t me.” Fang Mo said casually. “That’s Alucard’s death river catching fire. Don’t blame me.”

“…WHAT? Where is he?!”

“Over there.”

Fang Mo gestured toward the distance.

Integra followed his finger—and froze.

“That… That can’t be real…”