Steve Chapter 908: Return... (Patreon)

“Anyway, start by learning how to make fried chicken nuggets first.”

With Fang Mo’s words, the Major’s figure vanished into the ring.

Though the Major was just an ordinary man with no powers, once he was sealed inside, the Ender ring still changed form.

The little dark-green metal band

turned into a pure silver ring.

The tiny metal tile on the bezel… shifted into a circular emblem—some very familiar, better-left-unnamed logo in black, red, and white.

How to describe it? Put plainly: turn left for the Western Pure Land, turn right for the “Xi-fang Ji-le” world… basically the same vibe as that Wu-han subway sign.

On either side of the badge,

two golden wings spread like an eagle in flight.

Compared to Fang Mo’s other rings, this one didn’t look much like a godly artifact—more like an imperial medal. The craftsmanship was exquisite, though, with a sleek, German modern-tech aesthetic.

“Banshō Ten’in.”

Fang Mo beckoned, and the ring snapped into his palm.

Curious about what it could do, he slipped it on; the next instant, his mind linked with another, far more deranged consciousness.

They could share senses, even “talk” mind-to-mind with extreme efficiency.

Abstract? Maybe. Put another way: it was the classic “grandpa-in-the-ring” cheat from old webnovels.

Boy finds a random ring; inside lives a spirit that helps him through every crisis.

Only this time, the grandpa in the ring might be running a soap factory.

“So that’s it—more of a staff-officer type of ability?”

Fang Mo nodded thoughtfully, then took the ring off. The Major would probably be great at “bits,” but this wasn’t the time to start training him.

“You can seal living people too?”

Integra’s expression shifted again at the sight. “No one from this world could do that. So you really are—”

“Alright, don’t overthink it.”

Pocketing the ring, Fang Mo tossed back, “Whatever I am—or whether I’m even a ‘thing’—I’m leaving, aren’t I?”

“You’re finally going?”

Integra let out a breath of relief—then, inexplicably, felt a twinge. “…Where will you go? Will you come back?”

“Probably not.”

Fang Mo considered it. The Hellsing instance didn’t have much replay value. He’d cleared it, picked up the people he wanted, unlocked the modules he needed.

And its cycle was too short.

Barely a month—he wasn’t close enough to anyone to make a return trip just for social calls. Not that he disliked them; it just didn’t feel worth the detour.

If anything—

once he fully mastered the Dummy Module and could manifest in the tens of thousands, maybe he’d spin off a clone to bring Alucard back for a visit?

Hmm…

And while he was at it, he could toss the Major’s ring into Pa-lestine.

“I see.”

Integra fell silent for a while, then glanced at Alucard in the distance. “He… won’t be back either, will he?”

“Why don’t you come too?”

Fang Mo sighed at her. “London’s already like this. Might as well lean into it—dump the mess and walk away, yeah?”

“You think who made London like this!?”

That did it—Integra blew up again. “And the Hellsing family would never do that! We’re the Royal Knights of the Anglican Church… I will never abandon this land!!!”

“Okay, then have a kid with Alucard—now.”

Fang Mo chuckled. “Raise him, pass on your mantle. I’ll put in a word with God and have Him hand you over to me after you die. You can come to my heaven…”

“Stop spouting nonsense!”

Integra shot back at once. “You think I’ll buy that?”

“You don’t? Fine…”

Fang Mo’s brows popped up; his gaze swept around and landed on Walter. “You’ll do.”

“…Me? What do you mean?”

Walter froze.

“Soul bind.” Before he could protest, Fang Mo pointed. The Rule took hold; anyone who could see souls would have noticed a special mark—a perfe… square—searing into the depths of Walter’s soul. “Congrats. You no longer belong to God.”

“What? What did you say?”

Walter looked utterly lost. “What… what did you do to me!?”

“Just help me with a demo.” Fang Mo didn’t explain. He pointed again. “Sudden-Death Finger!!!”

He’d barely spoken

when Walter felt no pain at all—his head simply popped like a watermelon.

“Hey!!!”

Integra’s face went white. “That’s not sudden death, that’s—what the—why did you kill Walter!?”

“Relax.”

Fang Mo grinned, eyes flashing white as he swept a hand and opened a square portal to the afterlife. On the other side, Walter—halo over his head—stared around, baffled.

Not far away, an escalator rose into the clouds.

At its base sat a man in a wheelchair, head lolling, standing guard.

“What is… this?”

Walter blinked at the scene. He didn’t even realize he’d died; he thought he’d just been teleported.

Then Fang Mo’s voice boomed:

“Walter! Beat him up!” he shouted through the square portal. “Win the revival match and you come back!”

“What?”

Walter was even more confused.

Still, after a beat of hesitation, he tried attacking.

He didn’t kill the man—just shredded the wheelchair with his wires. With a metallic clang, the man toppled over, and the “revival match” registered the win.

The man, trembling, gave Walter a thumbs-up.

His halo vanished.

A huge force yanked Walter onto the escalator; moments later, he stumbled back out of the portal, dazed.

“…What just happened?”

He finally asked, completely at sea.

“…”

Integra went quiet for a long moment. Then: “So that’s your heaven?”

“Well? Pretty badass, right?”

Hands on hips, Fang Mo preened. “Told you I know God—didn’t believe me. Not just God, either: Satan, Shakyamuni, Allah, Nyarlathotep, and the Flying Spaghetti Monster—we’re on a first-name basis. Satan’s my number-one fan…”

“Leave that aside. Explain the guy in the wheelchair.”

Integra pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, him.” Fang Mo was blunt. “My heaven has a revival-match mechanic. Win and you respawn on the spot.”

“You—”

Integra was speechless.

“So, about what I suggested—are you in?” Fang Mo pressed. “Time’s tight. If you want a kid with Alucard, hurry up—or I’m sprinkling wheat seeds over your heads…”

“Shut up!”

Integra’s face went black and red. “Enough! I don’t need your heaven!!!”

“Suit yourself.”

Fang Mo just shrugged. “Then say your goodbyes. I’ve got other errands…”

“Aaaaah!!!”

A shrill crackling blast split the sky.

“Huh?”

Fang Mo looked up just as a streak of fire tore through the atmosphere toward them. “Oh, come on—now what?”

“…The policewoman?”

Integra recognized the scream.

Sure enough—the cop. Maybe she’d figured out a new trick mid-fight; several serpent heads roared to life behind her, belching fire, and she shot across the sky like a bottle rocket.

Thank goodness for vampire physiology.

A normal human would never balance the thrust; she’d have gone headfirst into the sea.

“Master! Uncle Ba! Don’t fight anymore!!!”

She landed with a thump and shouted.

“Officer…”

Integra sighed. “Save your breath. It’s over.”

“What?”

The cop froze. “It’s… already over? I—I’m late?”

“Alright, you two say your goodbyes to Alucard.”

Seeing her bewildered face, Fang Mo sighed, left them to it, and walked over to the tall man nearby.

The tall man was none other than

Millennium’s other trump card—the Major’s bodyguard, Captain Werewolf.

In the original, he was strong—and true to his name, in a world crawling with vampires, he was the one real werewolf.

Normally,

he’d face the policewoman in the final battle, go easy on her, and meet death with a smile.

But the plot had gone off the rails.

The Major had changed plans on the fly; to enjoy eternal war, he’d joined the camp of this eldritch god, Fang Mo.

Problem was, while the madman persuaded Fang Mo, no one was minding his crew… The Doctor had vanished, and even Captain Werewolf had been tossed aside to fend for himself.

Fang Mo had a soft spot for the guy.

Better to give him a last use than leave him to die.

“Er—so.”

Fang Mo eyed the captain. “Your master’s come with me. Want to tag along?”

“…”

Captain Werewolf didn’t answer. He pulled a dagger and dropped into a fighting stance.

“Emmmm…”

Fang Mo rubbed his chin. He’d already crafted three rings; make one more and he’d be the Lord of the Rings. Ten rings next? Research the Lock Crystal Rings? That’s a bit much.

After a moment’s thought,

he simply summoned his stand, Steve.

“A werewolf… still counts as a wolf, right?”

He stroked his chin, had Steve swap hotbars, and pulled out a full stack of bones.

smack smack smack…

Fang Mo made kissy, coaxing noises à la Komamura Sajin.

Steve spam-clicked.

After burning through more than half the stack, familiar particles shimmered around Captain Werewolf—and his expression changed.

He looked at the knife in his hand,

tossed it aside, and walked over to stand behind Fang Mo.

He said nothing.

But the point was made.

It wasn’t over yet, though—because the next instant, Fang Mo placed a hand on his chest.

“Ah—sugarcane…”

The genderbend mod kicked in. In the blink of an eye, the towering figure was gone—replaced by a beast-eared… uh, girl.

“???”

Even the new “Werewolf Captain” stared, stunned.

“Mm, mm. Not bad.”

Fang Mo beamed, ruffling her furry head. “When we get back, I’ll find you a bunch of friends. You won’t feel lonely.”

He wasn’t bluffing.

That’s exactly what the genderbend mod could do.

It’s a game mechanic, really—exploiting Fang Mo’s ability to manifest MC mobs in reality.

If he manifested a wolf,

he’d get… a normal wolf.

But if he swapped the wolf’s model first—using the genderbend mod to replace it with a beast-eared loli—and then manifested it…

he’d get the latter,

not the former.

So if he wanted, he could fill the White Expanse with beast-eared girls. Wolves are pack animals—who better to lead them than the Werewolf Captain?

Power didn’t matter; he wasn’t asking them to fight.

It was biodiversity for the White Expanse—Fang Mo building his own ecosystem.

His world, his rules—shaping it into what he liked. The more “lolis,” the better; the younger the—cough, cough, anyway, off topic.

“Mm. Done.”

Having tamed the Werewolf Cap—er, girl, Fang Mo dusted his hands and walked back to Alucard.

“Alright, I’m heading out. You guys done saying goodbye?”

“Unc—Uncle Ba…”

The policewoman’s reluctance was obvious.

Unlike the others, she really had been under Fang Mo’s wing—especially back at the manor against the illusionist Solin. Fang Mo had kicked open the door of that nightmare and chopped apart the terror she never wanted to face again.

Which was why she was genuinely upset now. “So soon? Can’t… can’t you stay a bit longer?”

“Hey, that’s life.”

Fang Mo smiled, gently patting her head. “All feasts end. When fate calls, we meet; when fate runs out, we part.”

“B-but…”

She hesitated, but a touch from Integra sobered her. She sighed. “Alright. Thank you for everything… truly.”

She bowed deeply.

“Good girl.”

Fang Mo’s smile softened. He clapped Alucard on the shoulder.

A flash of white light—Alucard vanished to the White Expanse. Then Fang Mo had Steve open the Book of Links. “Well then… until we meet again.”

Before anyone could say more,

endless black particles billowed from the book and wrapped around Fang Mo. When the dark mist cleared,

he was gone.