Eldritch Horror Theatre

Chapter 1285: Lost Image (26)

As the saying went, utmost sincerity moves even metal and stone.

The invitation Fu Qian had been carefully preparing just moments ago finally received a response.

On this moonlit night, standing atop the villa, the newly revealed target radiated elegance with every gesture. He possessed the distinct aura of a mastermind pulling strings from the shadows.

His very appearance was classically elegant.

He had a fairly young face, a tall, straight posture, and an exceedingly pale complexion. A scarlet gleam flashed within his deep-set eyes as he looked around. His overall aesthetic was over ninety percent identical to that of Fu Qian's old family friends, the Gulade Family.

If that wasn't enough, a pair of massive bat wings beat behind his back before slowly folding away.

Although the most eye-catching feature was the blood-red pattern formed by countless intertwining streaks across the wings, if one ignored that flashy special effect, their underlying shape was practically identical to the Gulades' as well.

The Foreign Branch of the Blood Clan?

This was a genuine surprise, one that inspired a wealth of intriguing thoughts.

"What do you think of her condition?"

Pointing at what the man was holding, Fu Qian smoothly invited this "technician number two" to share his professional opinion.

...

It was clear that the man was somewhat taken aback by Fu Qian's enthusiastic attempt to make him stay.

This was explicitly demonstrated by how he had instantly answered the call to halt, freezing in place and absolutely refusing to expose his back to Fu Qian.

Faced with the chief physician's sudden quiz, the man looked down with a heavy expression and tossed Jane onto the ground.

That was right. The patient who had climbed out of the window just moments ago had been dangling from his grip in a deep stupor.

If Fu Qian had been just a little slower, he probably would have had to chase this guy all the way back to some ancient castle lair.

Which, in all honesty, wouldn't have been entirely unacceptable either.

...

"You are quite unique."

The man finally spoke, interrupting Fu Qian's thoughts. Just as expected, his tone carried an immense sense of self-importance.

His demeanor was distinctly lacking in respect, and his gaze held a condescending edge.

"To actually be able to control the pollution to such an extent."

Oh?

That comment was far too pointed. Following the man's gaze, Fu Qian looked down at his own chest and immediately understood why the shock factor was so high.

The vampire was staring right at the massive mouth gaping open on Fu Qian's chest.

Given that the blood fog hadn't completely dispersed yet, Fu Qian hadn't been in any rush to retract it.

In fact, to truly convey the warmth of his welcome, he had even used this very mouth to shout "fellow Daoist" at the man earlier.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere. Tell me what you've achieved during this time."

Understanding aside, Fu Qian quickly straightened his expression, refusing to give the man any chance to slide past the issue.

It wasn't actually that strange for the other party to mistake his abilities for the very pollution The Order was dedicated to wiping out.

The horrifying visual effect was one thing, but even on a vampire—a race that would be considered freakish deviants almost anywhere else—the blood-red veins running across his wings and body were exceptionally glaring.

Just like the ones that had appeared on Jane's body a moment ago.

It seemed his earlier intuition had been spot on; Olinter really was just ignorant and ill-informed.

The phenomena on Jane's body were fundamentally the remnants of a specific commandment, and it was highly probable they were directly tied to this very man.

In other words, despite his bizarre appearance, this giant bat was effectively an inheritor of this world's orthodox power system. He legitimately possessed the moral high ground to condemn others as demonic heretics.

It carried the unique aesthetic irony of a Dreadlord wielding the Holy Light.

...

"Jacques. So, you've known of my existence all along?"

He truly lived up to the Blood Clan's reputation for elegance. Even when faced with a harsh reprimand, he refused to let his composure slip.

Before voicing his doubts, he actually took the time to introduce himself first.

"More than just known. Compared to Olinter, I've placed great hopes in you."

"You may call me Herbert."

Fu Qian shook his head, casually borrowing the name of a certain First Apostle.

"Because you have clearly been following this case for much longer."

"Herbert..."

Jacques muttered the name under his breath, though he didn't show any particular reaction to it.

He clearly had no idea who this vampire elder from another world was, and he quickly shifted his attention back to the matter at hand.

"So you've known about me this entire time... or rather, about us?"

"Though it's hard to believe, even if I accept that as truth, I frankly don't understand your current behavior."

The vampire elegantly raised an eyebrow and gestured at their surroundings.

"Wouldn't it have been better to quietly do your own job? What was the point of chasing me out here? You can't possibly be planning to kill me, can you?"

"Insanity is one thing, but this completely contradicts your earlier statement. If you truly placed such great hopes in me, shouldn't you have let me take her away for proper treatment?"

It seemed that vampires were well-funded no matter what world they were in.

They clearly hired excellent private tutors; his logical reasoning skills were quite well-honed.

Fu Qian offered a silent word of praise.

Of course, it still wasn't enough.

"It's simple, really. Your abysmal performance forced me to lower my expectations."

Fu Qian let out a cold sneer, refusing to give the man even an ounce of face. He looked like he was one step away from rolling up a medical chart and smacking it across Jacques' face.

"How many times have you snuck in to try and fix this? And what were the results? You've only made it worse! It's spiraled out of control, yet here you are, still trying to cover your tracks!"

"Are you really so confident you can solve the problem if you take her back? Or are you just planning to 'solve' the patient instead?"

"What kind of disastrous mess are you going to create this time? Calling you a fool wouldn't even begin to cover your actions!"

"What business is that of yours..."

It was obvious that this naturally arrogant race had a very hard time accepting criticism.

Under Fu Qian's relentless verbal bombardment, Jacques' expression finally began to crack.

"What do you think? As the chief physician, I'm telling you that until we get this treatment plan sorted out today, you aren't going anywhere."

Fu Qian chose to let the giant mouth on his chest roar out that final sentence.

...

"I admit, her current condition is my doing... but that's exactly why I'm here!"

Bolstered by a firm tone and an assumed moral high ground, Jacques finally seemed to learn how to answer a question directly.

"If I only wanted to cover up the problem, I wouldn't have waited until now."

"Go on."

For the first time since tearing through the blood fog, Fu Qian gave a slight nod.

"As one of the Children of the Stars, I am hardly bored enough to toy with or torture a mortal. In fact, the changes in her body were originally intended as a boon."

"Get to the point."

Fu Qian reminded him coldly.

Children of the Stars. It seemed that severe narcissism really was a universal trait among the Blood Clan.

"I tasted a sip of Miss Winslow's blood... and in return, I bestowed upon her a beauty that transcends the self."

"Her eyes?"

Fu Qian asked thoughtfully.

"Yes. Her eyes are undeniably her most beautiful feature, and my gift will render them even more perfect and dazzling."

"The Blood Clan never simply plunders; we exchange."

Jacques spoke with an incredibly self-righteous air.

That was certainly dazzling, alright. But wasn't the Blood Clan's sense of aesthetics just a bit too heavily steeped in anime tropes?

Fu Qian recalled the highly exaggerated proportions of Miss Winslow's eyes.

"Understood. I imagine many people wouldn't refuse that kind of transaction. But the real question is, before handing out these little rewards of yours, did you ever stop to consider the barriers of cross-species aesthetics?"

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