Chapter 67: A Person Who Relies on Looks

Fang Cheng yanked out Muba Daichi’s heart. The messy process resembled scrubbing pig intestines.

The Steel Blood skill proved handy – its sharp, unbreakable bloody blade made the job quick. But once done, Fang Cheng tossed the grimy blade into the sewer without hesitation.

Time for his favorite part: looting. He pressed his palm against the heart, buzzing with anticipation.

Warmth flooded his fingers as text popped into view:

[Energy absorption…]

[Life +1]

[Tide of Blood +1]

[Crazed Blood (1/5 Fragments) +2]

The haul wasn’t as big as when he’d killed Heishi Youto, but still decent – one extra life, a new power, plus two fragments. His total lives now matched what he’d started with after first arriving here.

Still bugged him though – neither corpse had given up that heart-transfer trick. Guess you couldn’t snatch every enemy ability, not even fragments.

More text blinked:

[Crazed Blood (5/5 Fragments) merging…]

[Crazed Blood +1]

Three fragments became five. Complete ability unlocked. Fang Cheng scowled. Every vampire he’d seen using Crazed Blood turned into a drooling monster.

“How’s a face-first protagonist supposed to use this ugly-ass skill?” If it messed up his looks, he’d ditch it faster than yesterday’s trash.

The blood pool started draining rapidly now – side effect of his new Tide of Blood ability. Muba Daichi’s fake blood vanished quicker than the real stuff. Within minutes, only a fist-sized puddle remained, evaporating unnaturally fast.

Fang Cheng willed the remaining blood toward the sewer. His version of Tide of Blood felt weaker, but good enough for cleanup duty. He chucked Muba Daichi’s corpse and his own severed limbs down the drain, replaced the manhole cover, and dusted off.

5:30 AM. Dawn tinted the sky above Morishita’s villa, now swarmed with police cars.

…

By the time Kanzaki Rin and Aoki Yusuke arrived, regular cops had cleared out. The Countermeasures Department now owned the scene – standard procedure when monsters got involved.

Intern

Interns weren’t supposed to be here, but Kanzaki Rin, the top intern and a “rising star” who’d taken out two vampires solo, got sent by the Countermeasures Department for field experience.

The courtyard lay scattered with corpses, severed limbs, and bullet casings—proof of the bloody hours-long battle.

Forensic experts picked through the remains while others waited behind police tape, forbidden from approaching.

Kanzaki Rin stared blankly at the carnage, her tired face hinting at an all-nighter.

“You okay, Kanzaki?”

Aoki Yusuke hovered nearby, concern in his voice.

He’d tagged along using the perfect excuse—the dead Morishita Yamato had been his classmate.

Any other intern pulling that would’ve been chewed out, but Aoki’s family connections got him special treatment.

“I’m fine.”

She walked toward the villa, Aoki trailing like a loyal puppy.

Inside, forensics had finished. Bodies were being zipped into bags as a Countermeasures Department official—rank equal to police chief—listened to reports.

Only major cases drew brass this high.

“Primary suspect’s a vampire,” a subordinate said, handing over a tablet with Muba Daichi’s file. The guy had been on their watchlist for suspicious activity.

Kanzaki and Aoki stood aside, not daring to interrupt the department’s notoriously tough official.

When the briefing paused, Aoki flashed a respectful smile. “Uncle Arakawa.”

Arakawa Yamata glanced up, spotted Kanzaki, and barked, “Where’s your brother? Get him here.”

“We’re not related,” she said flatly.

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“Don’t care. Call him.”

“I’ll try. No promises.”

Arakawa chuckled at her defiance. “Same stubborn streak. Tell him I ordered it.”

As Kanzaki stepped away to call, Aoki hid his envy. His politeness got ignored, yet her bluntness amused the bigwig—all thanks to Kamikawa Takumi.

One of the Countermeasures Department’s three top aces. The monster-slaying “God’s Brush.”

Who’d guess their star intern had that legend for a brother? Only five people knew, Aoki included.

While Kanzaki phoned, Arakawa grilled his team: “Three gunshot victims mutilated post-mortem. Just a vampire?”

“Surveillance glitches mostly showed Muba Daichi,” a subordinate replied. “But some cameras and patrol drones were sabotaged—footage erased. We’re digging deeper.”

Arakawa kept discussing the case, never glancing at Aoki, who kept smiling like it didn’t sting.

Ten minutes post-call, a drone buzzed into the dawn sky, hauling a twenty-something guy.

Over the Morishita villa, he dropped from 30 meters—floating down feather-light with milk tea and bread in hand.

Countermeasures staff waved casually as he landed. Inside, all eyes snapped to his arrival.

His plain jacket hid a T-shirt plastered with explicit manga girls—eyes rolled back, tongues lolling in ecstasy.