Returning to the Mysterious Era

Chapter 144 - He's Harder Than Iron

An indescribable delicacy!

The blood seeping from Cassius's fingers was like the ultimate delicacy to the weakened Jian. Honey at its finest—a nectar and ambrosia. It wasn't just because of his extreme thirst for blood, but also because Cassius's blood, the third-level accelerated blood flow of a pugilist, was of an exceptionally high quality.

It was as if he had taken three small steps into the superhuman realm, the essence of his body experiencing a subtle yet profound change. It was especially evident in the blood flowing through Cassius's veins, which was heavy and viscous like lead and mercury.

If a vampire were blood experts, they'd ascertain that one drop of Cassius's blood was equivalent to half a liter of a normal person's. An average adult male weighing about 70 kilograms had about 4.5 to 5 liters of blood in his body; ten drops of Cassius's blood would equal the full volume of an adult!

The starving Jian uttered a soft, nasal sound at being able to taste such high-quality fresh blood. Humming comfortably like a suckling puppy, he adopted a submissive posture. Suddenly, the finger in his mouth was pulled out.

"Eh?" Jian was very reluctant but dared not defy Cassius's intent. He'd only just begun and what blood he had sucked from the finger puncture had been very little. It was barely enough to fill even half his hunger, plus he was still injured. Not to mention, he'd be hungry again after healing his wounds.

And that was exactly the state Cassius hoped to see. The only good Blood Race members were the extremely weak ones, since they, under threat of his fists, would not have any ulterior motives and obey his commands.

Beside the tree trunk, Jian smacked his lips, still unsatisfied, his amber eyes somewhat longing as they followed Cassius's retracted fingers. "Be good now, or next time that stake isn't going to hit the right side of your chest; it's going left, right where your heart is." Cassius expressionlessly reached his large hand out and tore off the branch as thick as a calf's leg. With a casual flick, the straight branch shot out, nailing directly into a nearby tree trunk. The tail of the branch buzzed, quivering back and forth.

Jian leaned against the rough tree bark, his weak legs scrabbling against the ground before he got to his feet, trembling. Then he pressed his right hand on his chest wound, and the little remaining blood energy he had began to gather there to accelerate the healing.

On the other side, Cassius wasn't watching Jian. Instead, he moved toward Mirror Lake, blending into the darkness. Even after seeing that, Jian dared not run away again. Docile, he simply leaned against the tree trunk and continued healing his chest injury.

Minutes later, a figure emerged from the darkness. Cassius was dressed in a white shirt and black suit trousers, a beige tie hanging around his neck—a typical office worker's attire. However, the set of clothes did not quite fit him as it was several sizes too small. Cassius had managed to squeeze into them, but two buttons on the shirt remained undone. His bulging chest muscles and pronounced abs were faintly visible.

He had gone to find something to wear as his fight with Duomo had left him with ripped clothes and trousers turned into shorts. Thus, Cassius tracked down the three Blood Race guards he had killed earlier. One's chest had been pierced through by a steel fist and another severed at the waist. Both of them didn't have much in the way of clothes and whatever was left was stained with blood. Only the first one, whom he had killed by blowing off the head, had his office attire intact. Undeterred, Cassius put them right on.

"..."

Jian, whose injuries had nearly healed, silently glanced over. Cassius didn't feel any malice in the young man's gaze; a tiny bit of regret, but more or less a sense of submission and fear. Perhaps he had managed to tame the young Blood Race member through a mix of kindness and intimidation? Or maybe it was Stockholm syndrome. He shrugged dismissively, then adjusted the somewhat blotchy collar of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

"Since you've almost recovered, lead the way."

Pale-faced, Jian opened his mouth. "If I do, could you let me drink a bit more blood?"

"Are you giving me orders?" Cassius raised an eyebrow. "You're a prisoner, your life is in my hands. What makes you think you have the right to negotiate? Come here!" His voice was steely.

"I..." Jian wanted to say something more but felt a gust of wind from behind. His world spun wildly, and by the time he regained his senses, he was already draped over Cassius's shoulder, a firm hand gripping him. Jian panicked and tried to struggle, but the hand pressing on his slender waist suddenly tightened, and he felt an intense pressure as though with just a little more force, he would be split in two. He did not move again and could only comply.

"Lead the way. I want the location of the Blood Race outpost." Cassius's tone left no room for negotiation as he melted into the darkness.

Meanwhile, in a suburban area near Mirror Lake City close to the forest, a man in a black jacket moved swiftly through the woods, carrying a slender figure on his shoulders. His pace was neither fast nor slow, but he seemed quite familiar with the terrain of the night forest.

"Hoo-hoo..." a few owls hooted overhead.

The man came to a sudden stop and turned his head, quickly scanning left and right. Upon finding no one, he resumed walking. Dozens of meters away, behind a cedar tree, Cathy pressed her back tightly against the trunk. She tried to keep her breathing steady even though her heart was pounding uncontrollably. Her sweaty palms made it difficult to grip the pistol firmly.

Half an hour ago, Cathy had thought it was a consensual civil case—that was until she followed them and realized something was wrong. The man had taken the woman to a remote suburban area and carried her on his shoulders and into the forest. It was like the woman was a mannequin; she did not resist at all which was how Cathy knew something was amiss. This was not a case of prostitution but of human trafficking! Although the woman seemed cooperative, something was clearly off about her. She was probably drugged and controlled by the man.

Yes, that was likely it! Honestly, Cathy was excited. During her three months as an intern at the Mirror Lake Police Department, all she had been exposed to was paperwork and no front-line duties. Moreover, with an uncle who was the chief of police, she was even less likely to be put in a situation where she could be in danger. That frustrated Cathy, who had a strong sense of justice and pride. Compared to the safe and dull office work, she much preferred to be on the front lines with the Criminal Investigation Team or the Special Task Force. Unfortunately, her uncle would never allow her to transfer roles.

Cathy had already thought about how to discreetly bring this up through her mother, but she hadn't expected to encounter such a case on her way home. Her senses were keen; she felt this case might be connected to the recent series of disappearances in Mirror Lake City. If she could solve it, her uncle would be astonished, and her colleagues would look at her with newfound respect.

But she wasn't an idiot. She'd act according to the situation. If it turned out to be a criminal gang, she would naturally fall back and report the information to the Mirror Lake City Police Department.

The most pressing task right now was locating the criminal gang's hideout; everything else could come later. Cathy's heart pounded as she silently counted a few seconds. The footsteps in the distance were becoming fainter so she cautiously peeked out, looking ahead in the dim moonlight. About sixty meters away, a man's silhouette gradually moved further away.

Cathy immediately followed, treading carefully. Not long after she left, a rustling sound came from a nearby bush. Then, a shadow clad in a black trench coat emerged and leaned against a tree.

That person was evidently far superior at concealing him than Cathy. Despite being only a few meters away, she had not noticed him at all.

The dim moonlight filtered through the leaves, forming a patchy design on the trench coat man's head. He removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of ocean-blue eyes, deep and tranquil.

The man in the trench coat reached into his chest pocket. The next moment, he pulled out a dagger and left a triangular mark on the tree trunk behind him. Afterward, he crouched slightly and peered out, before quickly and lightly walking down the path.

The moon hung high in the sky like an oval white porcelain plate as wisps of clouds drifted around it like waves. The pale moonlight spilled onto the ground and the shadows of the cedar trees fell diagonally on the soil, turning into flattened dark masses. In the forest, an old, dilapidated, pale yellow wooden house stood atop a gentle slope covered in wild grass.

The house appeared to have been built by a forest ranger or a hunter who had ventured into the mountains. However, it seemed to have been abandoned for a long time. Black mold crept over some of the wooden walls. Cold wind constantly blew through the few holes in the walls, creating eerie, whistling noises.

Crack.

A black boot crushed a white wildflower underfoot.

A man with curly brown hair stopped less than two hundred meters from the cabin, shaking his head as if glancing toward the distant hut. Suddenly, he chucked the woman from his shoulder down and whirled around, covering several meters in a single step. White fangs jutted out from his lips and he seemed to be wearing a pair of red gloves. In the time it took for her to blink, Cathy watched with bulging eyes from her hiding spot behind a tree as the man, who had been dozens of meters away, leaped forward. His pale vampire face grew rapidly closer, his pupils filled with hunting intent.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Almost unconsciously, the startled Cathy immediately pulled the trigger. Bullets flew from the gun barrel.

Thud, thud, thud...

The bullets penetrated the man's body and blood sprayed from his wounds. However, he didn't seem affected. On the contrary, the injury seemed to activate his bestial nature. His face grew even more fierce and monstrous. The curly-haired man's right hand, covered in red energy, swiped across a tree trunk, leaving a dark corrosive trail.

Just as Cathy was about to be grabbed by the neck...

Whoosh!

A crossbow bolt shot out from the darkness beside her, aiming for the left side of the curly-haired man's chest, straight at his heart.

However, the curly-haired man seemed to sense the attack and quickly shifted his body to the side. The crossbow bolt still struck him, but not in the heart. Instead, it hit just above the left side of his waist.

"Who?!" The man roared in pain but was greeted by several more crossbow bolts flying toward him.

The curly-haired man quickly sidestepped but realized something was wrong with the area around his wound. A feeling of weakness and discomfort rapidly spread from the left side of his waist to the rest of his body, like a numbing anesthetic. He quickly reached out and jerked the crossbow bolt out. A blood-stained silver arrowhead glinted under the dim moonlight, its metallic surface seemingly coated with something.

"Those damned Mercury Thorn hunters." The curly-haired man's brows knitted together as he looked at the bleeding wound.

A figure in a black trench coat emerged from the shadows. He appeared to be about twenty-five years old, with a defiant demeanor. He had a crew cut, pale face, and deep blue eyes. While he held a semi-automatic crossbow, he also had a yellow quiver slung on his right side, and a sharp long knife hanging by his left side.

The man in the trench coat moved steadily, each step bringing him to a still-shaken Cathy's side. He did not look at her but spoke as if he were talking to himself, "Using guns against the Blood Race is futile... To deal with these monsters who hold onto life tenaciously, we must be the ones to make a move..." The man in the trench coat's voice was loud as if he were showing off to someone. He quietly reached into his quiver to retrieve another crossbow bolt, and pricked his finger on the sharp point, dripping blood onto the arrowhead.

"Step back, this is not a battle suitable for ordinary people," the man in the trench coat continued to talk to himself as he took another arrow and dripped blood on it. He did the same for the long knife at his left side, smearing it evenly with the corner of his coat. These weapons were coated with a special kind of mercury, but that alone did not make them Mercury Thorn. Only when the mercury was mixed with the fresh blood of a blue-eyed Mercury Hunter could it be called Mercury Thorn.

The mixed mercury's potency had a short life, so it could not be prepared in advance and had to be made on the spot. Should a Blood Race member be struck by Mercury Thorn, they would be greatly weakened. Their entire body would become numb and feeble, the speed at which they'd react would drop, and even their self-healing abilities would be significantly reduced. That was the foundation upon which the Mercury Hunters dared to fight the Blood Race.

The man in the trench coat had followed covertly, keeping an eye on Cathy while also using her as bait. While the Blood Race member ahead was distracted by Cathy, he'd be able to expose a weakness sooner or later and the man in the trench coat could then seize the opportunity to strike.

It proved to be the correct approach. The Mercury Thorn on the arrowhead had penetrated the Blood Race member's body, and its effects should be manifesting, making him exceptionally weak. The man in the trench coat was calm and collected as he dashed forward. He charged toward a tree trunk ten meters away, his semi-automatic crossbow held steady at chest level. At the slightest movement, a powerful arrow would be released.

One step, two steps, three steps! The man in the trench coat abruptly pulled the trigger, sending a volley of arrows flying at once, but they dared to hit nothing. Some were embedded in the tree trunk while others burrowed into the distant bushes.

"Watch out!" a scream from Cathy echoed from behind.

"Not good!" The man in the trench coat quickly rolled on the ground, a gust of wind slicing past him. He felt a pain in his back and stumbled forward. When he turned back sharply to look, the curly-haired man with primitive bat-like traits was coming right at him, his right hand dripping with blood.

Is that the Blood Gift?! Wait, it's not! He's just using a high concentration of bloodline, some of his ancestral traits showing when he's at full strength. The man in the trench coat's thoughts raced. The effect of Mercury Thorn was far superior to that of regular mercury, and was the best tool for blue-eyed hunters to hunt vampires. A typical Blood Race member would be paralyzed and extremely weak with just one arrow with Mercury Thorn, draining their strength until they'd be just slightly stronger than a normal human.

However, this only worked on ordinary Blood Race members. The more advanced and pure the bloodline, the stronger their resistance to Mercury Thorn. Those with the strongest resistance were the direct descendants of the Alphama Bloodline. Upon activating Blood Gift and turning into half-human, half-bat formidable creatures, those direct lineage members could even temporarily ignore the effects of Mercury Thorn. Only a large amount of Mercury Thorn invading their bodies could do anything, and this was only slightly better than using regular mercury...

The Blood Race in front of him was not a direct lineage Blood Race member, but he could be regarded as a close elite branch. If he used all his strength, his body, which had characteristics from the direct lineage bloodline, would be quite resistant to thorns and mercury.

"Shoot more arrows and make more slashes to inject enough mercury..." The man in the trench coat had a clear goal in mind and retreated sharply, using rapid crossbow fire to impede the vampire's advance. The man used his crossbow and long knife in tandem as he navigated the forest. The crossbow suppressed the opponent's movements, while the long knife dealt close-range slashing strikes. Since the Blood Race member had been initially injected with a good amount of Mercury Thorn, his reflexes were slower. Thus, the two entered a standoff, leaping back and forth through the shadows, with frequent collisions echoing through the dark.

Cathy immediately followed, wanting to take shots from a distance to help the man in the trench coat distract the creature. However, the fight was too intense, and Cathy feared she might accidentally hit the man in the trench coat or her bullets would get in the way. Therefore, she hadn't made her move yet. Unknowingly, whether intentional or not, the two fought their way toward the cabin, and within minutes, the trio had reached the edge of a grassy area.

At that moment, the man in the trench coat sensed something amiss. He swung his blade fiercely, forcing his opponent back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures rushing out from the cabin. Both were clearly Blood Race members, each stride covering more than three meters. They looked almost like they were gliding. Their figures moved swiftly, the distance closing with each second.

Three Blood Races! Is this supposed to be the recent gathering point for the Blood Race in Mirror Lake City?! The man in the trench coat was horrified. His gaze slid, his eyes drawn to another figure in the distant woods.

Another one! And he looks very powerful... The man in the trench coat felt as if he had plunged into the depths of the ocean. All he tasted was death. It seemed he had foolishly poked the Blood Race's version of a hornet's nest!

"Hahaha..." A cold laugh came from the opposite side. The curly-haired Blood Race member had spotted his three companions storming toward him. He recognized the two coming from the cabin, and though he did not know the one rushing from the woods, he also seemed to be a formidable Blood Race expert. His build was like a towering iron structure, moving with incredible speed despite him carrying a victim. He was clearly a strong reinforcement!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Cathy immediately fired, and the man in the trench coat also pulled the trigger of his semi-automatic crossbow. Both aimed toward the direction of the cabin, as the area around the cabin was a clearing, unobstructed by dense trees. With the numerous trees blocking the Blood Race member coming from the woods, their accuracy with their bullets and arrows would be significantly reduced compared to the other side.

The two Blood Race members moved swiftly on the grass. When it came to projectiles, they were virtually untouchable, which was why the man in the trench coat had initially opted for an ambush. The Blood Race were extremely agile and light creatures of darkness so it was hard to hit them with long-range attacks when they were on high alert.

"Follow me!" the man in the trench coat shouted. He dug his feet into the ground as he prepared to make a quick retreat. However, the curly-haired Blood Race member, although bleeding severely, closed the seven or eight-meter distance swiftly. Despite his injuries, his strength still surpassed that of a normal strong adult man.

The man in the trench coat immediately found himself entangled by the wildly swinging bloody hands. "Damn it!" He gritted his teeth, preparing to retreat at the cost of injury.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat as if a huge boulder was pressing down. Out of the corner of his eye, the towering figure in the distance had, within a few seconds, gotten close, moving even faster than the Blood Race members on open ground.

The curly-haired Blood Race member's face lit up as he shouted, "Brother! Stop him!"

Whoosh!

His massive chest squeezed in the air, and the figure moved like a crazed bull, each step on the ground sounding like muffled thunder.

"Let's get him together!" the curly-haired Blood Race member crowed. "Eh?!" He paused. The air rushed at him, parting his hair down the middle, as a fist, cast like iron, glided toward him. The curly-haired Blood Race member could even see the fist's veins, twisted like steel wires. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Aren't we on the same side? was the last thought in his mind.

Boom!!!

His head exploded under the tremendous force, spraying out blood in a wide arc. Cathy and the man in the trench coat, who were about to shoot, widened their eyes in disbelief. Infighting among the Blood Race?! One of their own killing another? No, the strong man who had attacked was a real, pure human, and the captive he was carrying on his shoulder was the actual Blood Race member!

The man in the trench coat keenly recognized what was happening. "Put down the gun, they're on our side. We'll intercept the other Blood Race members!"

"Next." A calm voice arose from beside him. The man in the trench coat felt himself being pushed aside as the strong man stepped past him. The trench coat man's shoulder sank under the weight of a young, unconscious Blood Race member being draped over his shoulder.

He suppressed his revulsion and shouted a warning to the figure in front, "Don't be reckless, my friend! That's a formidable elite Blood—"

Thump! Thump!

The dull sounds seemed to be in response to the trench coat man's caution. He suddenly saw two figures flung backward in the air. Like birds with broken wings, they crashed to the ground and bled. One hit the ground and slid nearly ten meters across the grassy field, leaving a long trail. The other flew straight toward the cabin, not unlike how a bird might crash into a mountain. With a crash, an oval-shaped hole was smashed open.

"Roar!"

A beast-like roar came from the cabin. The door shattered instantly, and wood chips cascaded down like rain. A monstrous creature that appeared half-human and half-bat broke out. Its face was grotesquely hideous, with fierce fangs protruding outward. Its body was covered in bulging pale red muscles that seemed exceptionally powerful, with a layer of dark red mane over its skin.

"Blood Gift! That's a direct descendant of the Alphama Bloodline! We're no match, my friend, hurry..."

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang...

The half-man, half-bat creature materialized in front of the man, its fierce claws and fists attacking like a violent storm, each strike carrying immense and corrosive power. The dull collisions sounded like drum beats as sparks flew from its claws.

The man's white shirt was instantly torn apart, revealing a terrifyingly muscular and marble-like gray-hued torso beneath. It looked like a set of heavy armor. The man stood his ground with his legs planted like a tree, his whole figure towering and immovable. He watched motionlessly as the bat creature furiously pounded him.

"This is just..." The man in the trench coat stood frozen in place. "He's harder than iron..."

Cathy was stunned, lowering her pistol. She continually pressed her dry lips together, afraid to even breathe too hard.

The air swirled violently, dust and leaves rising in the vortex. The bat creature seemed to regain some of its sanity and looked up, a little puzzled to see a broad grin on a 'kind and friendly' face. Only, this was the god of Death smiling at him.

"Done tickling me? It's my turn now." His fist tore through the air with a roar, smashing toward the creature. For a moment, the bat monster was overwhelmed by such majestic power. Its spirit felt like a frail boat tossed about in a terrifying storm.

The air continued to churn chaotically as a deep voice resonated, "You don't have to pay for the shirt you ruined..." As the bat creature's vision darkened, losing consciousness, the last thing it heard was, "Your life will suffice."