Returning to the Mysterious Era

Chapter 144 - Hes Harder Than Iron

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.

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.

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."