novellhall Chapter 49: The Terrifying Capitalist
Chapter 49: The Terrifying Capitalist
Ivan looked down at his hands.
The dark red blood that had splattered on his female assistant when he smashed her with a stone was burning harmlessly on his skin.
The flames only burned the filthy blood, without harming him in the slightest.
After the burning was complete, not even a single burn mark was left on the skin.
A few seconds later, there was no trace of anything left on the ground.
Only a patch of grayish-white powder remained, slowly dissipating in the night wind.
"Holy Water of the Sun, just three drops! Awesome, right!?"
Ibn nodded instinctively and handed over the bottle.
Richard took the bottle back, tightened the cap, and put the precious little bottle back into his inner bag.
"Items from the Healing Church. Specifically prepared to deal with the Bloodthirsty race."
His tone was as relaxed as if he were discussing a bottle of beer.
Ivan's eyes widened.
The female assistant who was impossible to kill and treated tuning fork attacks like tickles was completely erased from existence by a few drops of liquid.
"That's... all done?"
Evan felt like he was dreaming.
Richard smiled and bent down, as if looking for something.
"The essence of extraordinary combat is rock-paper-scissors. Find your opponent's weakness and use the right methods to deliver a fatal blow."
"This is why the extraordinary and the mysterious are associated with the supernatural, because once it is no longer mysterious, it loses its deterrent power."
"So, junior brother, remember this: maintain your mystique and don't reveal your core techniques carelessly!"
Ivan nodded solemnly: "Thank you for your reminder and guidance, senior brother."
Richard laughed heartily, "What teachings? Just words of experience."
"Oh! Found it! Let's go home then, and tell me roughly what happened."
As he spoke, he picked up a black object that looked like a sweet potato from the white ash.
However, this thing was radiating heat and seemed to be pulsating.
"This is..." Evan asked, somewhat curious.
Richard handed over the item: "This Bloodthirsty Seed's extraordinary properties can be refined into potions to increase the progress of Bloodthirsty Seed's related extraordinary properties."
"You can also sell them for money; they're your spoils."
Ivan held the pulsating sweet potato, preparing to process it slowly later.
"Then, senior brother, why don't you stay at my house tonight?"
"My house is quite big."
……
Lighthouse Hill, Mount Vernon Street.
The wide cobblestone streets were neat and clean, swept overnight by night-shift cleaners, and not a single fallen leaf could be seen.
The road is lined with shady trees, and rows of exquisite white detached villas are neatly arranged, each with a spacious lawn and a large yard with a cast-iron fence.
The electric streetlights at night bathed the entire street in a soft orange hue.
This is the true heart of Bolton's high society.
Those who own a house number on this street are either rich or powerful.
Members of Parliament, judges, barristers, nobles... Bolton is a gathering place for the old money.
Number 1012. Hearst Manor.
The lighting was soft in the spacious and luxurious girl's bedroom on the second floor.
Ertin stood in front of a full-length dressing mirror, wearing a silk robe.
She is carefully choosing what to wear to the rugby game the day after tomorrow.
Three outfits were laid out on the bed: a deep purple velvet long coat paired with a beige plaid skirt, a military green wool riding outfit, and a burgundy short jacket with a white mink collar.
She gently fiddled with the fur on the mink collar, her brows furrowed slightly, as if weighing which outfit would be more suitable for Sunday's weather.
Right at this moment.
The shadow on the Persian carpet beneath her feet suddenly began to surge and churn, defying the laws of physics.
It was like a pot of black liquid that had suddenly boiled.
The next second, a head emerged from the churning shadow.
He was a complete mess, a far cry from his usual elegant and composed self.
His face was deathly pale, half of his face was still wrapped in wounds that had not fully healed, and his shattered cheekbones looked as if they were being pieced back together under his skin.
Her hair, which had been neatly combed back, was now messily plastered to her forehead.
"teacher!"
Erdin turned around, his pupils suddenly contracting.
She immediately sensed that something was wrong.
This teacher, who is usually as calm as a statue, was now like a drowning person struggling to climb out of the mud.
Priss looked up at her and forced a smile.
"My child. My Eldin."
His voice was much weaker than usual, and every word seemed to be squeezed out of broken lungs.
"I failed."
"Those lowlife witchers ruined my plans. Arkham's transformation is complete. His potion-making scheme is ruined."
When Erdin heard this, his eyes widened.
She couldn't help but gasp in surprise.
"How is this possible? Didn't we consult a prophet?"
"If I had stopped him from extending the invitation and made him miss the tram, the plan would have succeeded!"
Pulis gritted his teeth: "That prophet is problematic! I underestimated Sap's control over me..."
He paused, his voice trembling with increasing urgency.
"I don't have time, child."
"I tore up my contract with Sap. He won't let go of any opportunity to bleed me dry."
A sudden, unprecedented ruthlessness crept into his tone.
"I will absolutely not give the extraordinary characteristics of the Kelling branch of the Bartluth family to those capitalists."
As he spoke, he suddenly stretched out his right hand, and his five fingers, like sword blades, pierced directly into his own chest.
The sound of flesh tearing apart was chillingly clear in the quiet bedroom.
His hands dug deep into his chest cavity, grasped his still violently beating heart, and ripped it out of his chest.
The heart pounded in his pale palm, each beat spurting out a few strands of dark red blood.
"Eldin, I'm giving this to you..."
He hadn't finished speaking.
Suddenly, it was as if something invisible had pulled him down from below, causing him to sink into the depths of the shadows.
His expression instantly turned to terror and struggle, and one hand frantically reached out towards Erdin.
"Eldin!!! Take it!!"
He roared with all his might.
Ertin lunged forward, but an invisible force field, like a cold glass wall, kept her at the edge of the carpet.
Her outstretched fingers were less than five centimeters from the heart in Pris's palm.
But those five centimeters feel like an entire Atlantic Ocean.
"Interfering with a judge's seizure of a criminal's assets is a crime."
A sudden and cold voice rang in their ears at the same time.
The voice was genderless and emotionless, as if it came directly from the pages of some kind of legal code.
next second.
Pris's entire body was completely swallowed by the shadow.
Before he disappeared, he couldn't even make a sound.
His mouth was still opening and closing, and his eyes were still looking in the direction of Erdin.
But his throat, vocal cords, lungs, and all the organs that could produce sound had been forcibly removed by some external force.
The hand that reached out to Erdin, the still-beating heart, and his entire being were swallowed up by the abyss of shadows.
The carpet was smoothed out.
The bedroom fell silent again, with only the soft crackling of the firewood burning in the fireplace.
Ertin knelt on the carpet, staring blankly for several seconds.
Those dark eyes slowly, very slowly began to change.
A crimson hue seeped from the iris, spreading outwards from the center of the pupil like ink dripping into clear water.
Her hands slowly clenched, her nails digging into her palms, and blood dripped from between her fingers onto the Persian carpet.
Her upper lip was lifted by a suddenly elongated canine tooth.
"teacher."
Her voice was very soft, but every word seemed to be ground out from the depths of her throat.
"Don't worry."
"Your wish, the hope of the vampire race, I will surely fulfill it!"
She understood the message her teacher left her using lip reading at the end.
"Our resistance has failed, and they will surely lower their guard against you."
"Hope still lies with Arkham. Stop using force; he has other secrets!"
"He is not an enemy, but an important helper, a sharp blade aimed at capitalists, and even the father of your future children."
"The mission to save the Queen is entrusted to you!"
Recalling her teacher's last words, Ertin clenched her fists, her dignified and beautiful face filled with firm determination.
"Teacher, may you return to the embrace of the true ancestor!"
"Arkham... is nothing but a country bumpkin who benefited from misfortune."
"With my beauty and intelligence, how could I not win you over?!"