Hickson spent the entire weekend at home learning how to cook.
Although the results were a complete mess, Fufu was always incredibly supportive, giving his creations one hundred percent approval and offering his own fruit paste in return. This left Hickson feeling somewhat helpless, thinking the two of them should probably stop torturing each other.
By the end, he had more or less figured it out—he wasn't incapable of cooking, just lacking in experience. He could only manage simple congee, noodles, or steamed dishes.
As for techniques like stir-frying, pan-frying, or deep-frying that demanded precise heat control and skill, he simply couldn't handle them.
The upside was that the food he made this way was light and healthy. The downside was that it was monotonous—everything tasted more or less the same, and the nutrition wasn't exactly balanced.
It looked like he'd have to consider hiring a nanny. After all, a cub's meals were a serious matter.
Besides, he was busy with work, constantly in meetings or traveling. Bringing Fufu to the office wasn't a long-term solution—he needed someone to help care for the cub.
Hickson was about to ask someone to find him a reliable nanny when his phone suddenly rang.
Seeing the caller ID, Hickson frowned but still answered.
A mocking voice came through the line:
"Oh, Mr. Busy Man. Six months without coming back—do you even remember who I am?"
"Father." He didn't want to exchange pleasantries and went straight to the point: "What is it?"
Yes, the person on the other end was Hickson's father—Fufu's biological father, Lennon Nosferatu.
Ever since their mother had passed away ten years ago, Hickson's relationship with the man had deteriorated sharply. Every meeting was filled with sarcasm and ridicule, and the only way to keep the peace was to avoid each other entirely.
Hickson knew Lennon must be calling about Fufu. He didn't want Fufu to have any connection with the man, so he had no intention of saying much—just planned to brush him off.
But the man on the other end let out a derisive snort and said, "Nothing much, really. Just heard… you had a son out there for me?"
"Pfft—" Hickson sprayed out a mouthful of water, startling Fufu who was playing with his Star-pad nearby.
He coughed several times in a row, wiping his mouth while soothing Fufu, telling him that his brother was fine and not to be scared.
The man on the other end, however, acted as if he hadn't heard, and continued in a leisurely tone: "Oh wait, that's not right. You had a little brother for yourself out there… No, wait—I had a little brother for you?"
Hickson couldn't take it anymore: "Can you stop talking nonsense?"
He covered Fufu's ears with his hand to keep the cub from hearing the man's garbage.
Lennon snorted coldly: "Ha? So you know it's nonsense?"
Hickson forced himself to stay calm and said in a low voice: "I do have a little brother now. His name is Fufu. He wasn't born to anyone, but he's my brother. I'll take responsibility for raising him. If you don't want him, you can pretend he doesn't exist."
Lennon was silent for a moment, then laughed, as if he'd just heard a strange, dark joke.
"Fine~" His tone was airy. "Your brother—what's that got to do with me? I'm not getting involved."
Hickson frowned.
"Father—"
"Goodbye." Lennon cut him off. "Handle it yourself."
The call ended.
Hickson held his phone and lowered the hand that had been covering Fufu's ears.
Fufu had long been bursting with curiosity and looked up at him, asking: "Who was that?"
"…An old man." Hickson put down his phone and wrapped his arms around Fufu. "Don't worry about him."
Fufu was clearly still curious. Even while held in Hickson's arms, he lifted his head to peek at the phone.
Just then, Hickson's phone rang again.
He picked it up. This time, the caller wasn't Leonor—it was the Radiance City Police Department.
The police.
Hickson's expression turned serious, and he answered immediately.
"Mr. Nosferatu, there's been a breakthrough in the trafficking case." Valen's voice came through the receiver. "We've identified the children—they're all orphans and runaways from remote planets. But this time, the buyer isn't in human territory. They're from our own ranks, and the delivery point is Capital Star."
Hickson frowned. Capital Star? The residents here were all elites from various races of the Fantasy Species Sector. Who would purchase younglings?
"And," Valen continued, "the price this time was exceptionally high. They arranged a seemingly legal transport channel, and the buyer maintained one-way contact throughout—leaving no trace behind."
To infiltrate the airport, use legal means, and move children right under the noses of the Radiance City Police—this buyer's influence was anything but ordinary.
"The only lead we have so far is from one of the traffickers. He said that during a call with the buyer, he vaguely overheard the other party say: 'This batch is fresh. Should last a long time.'"
Hickson's eyelid twitched.
Just as he suspected. He'd had his suspicions all along, and now they were confirmed. Only one group would describe living people that way—the Crimson Society.
Those madmen who prided themselves on drinking the fresh blood of the living, the scum of the Blood Clan… If they were pulling the strings behind this, then it was no surprise the traffickers had managed to slip into the airport.
And from what he knew, that group had always been fanatically obsessed with the technology of artificially cultivating vampires.
Hickson had suspected before that Fufu might have escaped from some illegal laboratory. And if the Crimson Society was truly behind it—then they must be searching for Fufu like madmen right now.
Hickson had heard of the Crimson Society's methods. They were notoriously brutal and tenacious, stopping at nothing to achieve their goals.
And the news that he had adopted Fufu had already spread throughout Radiance City.
Not that keeping it quiet would have helped. The day he rescued Fufu at the airport and followed the youngling to the police station, plenty of people had seen him.
If someone was truly watching them, then the fact that he'd adopted Fufu was something he couldn't hide anyway.
Hickson could only count himself lucky that he'd been with Fufu nearly twenty-four hours a day these past few days, giving those people no opportunity at all.
But what about next?
Not to mention that his work kept him busy and he couldn't always have Fufu by his side—even if he could, there would inevitably be moments of negligence.
Of course, he could also go straight to Rex and hire a group of loyal werewolf bodyguards to protect Fufu around the clock.
But as the saying goes, you can guard against thieves for a thousand days, but you can't guard against them forever. Fufu would eventually grow up. The enemy was in the shadows while they were in the light—how long would they have to keep this up?
To achieve true safety, he had to take the initiative.
But before that, he needed to find Fufu an absolutely secure place to stay.
Such a place wasn't easy to find. He racked his brains and could only think of one option—the Nosferatu Castle Estate on the outskirts of Radiance City, his family's old manor.
The manor was surrounded by an energy barrier, with the werewolf butler Uther stationed inside, completely isolated from the outside world—no outsider could possibly break in.
At the same time, the manor grounds included a spacious garden, lawns, and even an entire small forest, more than enough space for a cub to run and play to its heart's content.
The only problem was—
Hickson took a deep breath, recalling the phone call from earlier, a restless anxiety stirring within him.
That place was also where Leonor had long resided.
Regardless, early the next morning, Hickson still took Fufu out.
They first stopped by the mall for some shopping, then drove away from Radiance City, heading for the manor on the outskirts.
As the car entered the manor's grounds, the originally clear blue sky instantly turned dusky yellow, and everything around them sank into twilight.
At the end of a deep, winding path stood a mansion resembling a legendary vampire castle, looming silently. The garden was overrun with weeds, interspersed with a few withered roses and lilies.
This was his family's old estate—a place absolutely comfortable and safe for vampires.
The entire castle manor was silent, surrounded by an energy barrier. The barrier not only lowered the light transmittance of the surrounding air, maintaining the twilight brightness that vampires found most comfortable, but also concealed the location from the outside, creating an illusion that made outsiders instinctively veer away when approaching, never discovering the manor's position at all—let alone breaking in.
Only two people currently resided in the manor long-term: one was the werewolf butler Uther, and the other was Hickson's father, Leonor.
Thinking of that man, Hickson let out a long sigh.
In truth, unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn't have brought Fufu back here. His family was by no means the warm, loving kind—no one would welcome the arrival of a new cub.
This was a place of heartbreak for all of them.
Ten years ago, his mother, Isa, had drawn an intricate magic circle in the castle's basement, then stepped into it and transformed herself into a crystal—his mother was Merfolk, and for Merfolk, turning into crystal meant death.
To this day, no one could determine whether it had been an accident or suicide.
But regardless of which, the one thing that was certain was that on the night she walked alone into that magic circle, his seemingly cheerful and optimistic mother must have been carrying a great deal of loneliness in her heart.
Vampires lacked experience in facing the death of loved ones, let alone such an abrupt parting.
After their mother became crystal, each of them was devastated—wallowing in regret and guilt while blaming one another, until their relationships fractured and they gradually moved out of the castle one by one.
The only one who remained, Leonor, had grown irritable and eccentric, shutting out the world entirely, drowning himself in alcohol day after day.
So Hickson knew full well that given his family's current situation, it was hardly suitable for raising a cub.
But for now, ensuring the cub's safety came first. To completely evade the notice of those madmen in the Crimson Society, the castle remained the top choice.
Fortunately, it was spacious—six floors, dozens of rooms, and a generous courtyard. Leonor spent all day holed up in his own room drinking and rarely came out, and Hickson could likewise cordon off a dedicated nursery for Fufu, physically separating the cub's living space from that man's.
Just as he had said on the phone, Fufu was his little brother, so he would treat him as nothing more than that—since he had taken Fufu in, he would take responsibility, and no one else needed to interfere.
Staying at the ancient castle was only a temporary measure. He would use this time to investigate the Crimson Society, and once the external danger was eliminated, he would move out with Fufu as soon as possible, giving the cub a more suitable environment to grow up in.
Whether it was psychological or not, Hickson stood in front of the castle courtyard holding Fufu and felt that the place was even more gloomy and desolate than when he had last left.
The Gothic castle stood silently in the twilight, its spires pointing straight up like a silent beast.
Fortunately, Fufu didn't seem to be affected.
"Whoa—" The cub looked up at the building before him, eyes wide with awe: "So big!"
Hickson managed a faint smile: "Fufu, we'll be staying here for a while, okay?"
"Really?!" Fufu's eyes lit up, the whole cub as excited as if he'd entered a theme park.
Hickson felt a bit of comfort in his heart.
He held Fufu tightly and walked toward the castle, the two of them—one big, one small—passing through the withered garden to the castle entrance.
Although it resembled a medieval Gothic castle from ancient Earth, it was actually like the coffin bed Hickson slept in—similar in appearance only. The interior wasn't a true castle structure, just a large residence with a unique style.
The werewolf butler Uther was already waiting in the foyer.
Uther was large, a full size bigger than Rex, his burly frame straining the butler's uniform, yet he habitually hunched over, his gaze fixed on the ground.
He also had the wolf ears characteristic of werewolves, deep black, growing among his neat short hair like two silent shadows.
Not just his wolf ears—his whole person was like a shadow, expressionless, silent, appearing and disappearing mysteriously. Though he was a werewolf, he suited this ancient castle even better than a vampire.
At this moment, seeing Hickson return, he didn't greet him aloud, only raised his gaze a few inches to look at Hickson.
When he saw the cub in Hickson's arms, a flicker of barely perceptible surprise passed through Uther's eyes, but it quickly dissolved into nothing.
The werewolf butler lowered his gaze again and nodded at them.
Hickson was already used to this. His Uncle Uther was just that kind of person—not very talkative, very low-key, not much like a butler but more like some kind of ancient shadow guard.
But in truth, this werewolf was very thorough in his work and had a delicate temperament. Hickson appreciated his style of just doing things without unnecessary words.
Seeing the gaze directed at him, he gestured toward the cub in his arms and introduced him succinctly: "Fufu."
He had already sent a message ahead of time informing the other that he would be bringing Fufu back to stay for a while, so there was no need to say much.
Fufu wasn't shy either. Seeing that he was being introduced, he immediately reached out his little hand: "Hello, uncle! I'm Fufu!"
It seemed that because Hickson had shaken the cub's hand on the day they first met, Fufu now believed that handshaking was a necessary courtesy when meeting strangers, and he wanted to shake hands with anyone he saw.
But clearly, not everyone could keep up with the cub's pace.
Seeing him extend his little hand, the werewolf butler stiffened, then turned around as if fleeing, pushing open the door to lead them inside.
He seemed to be making a deliberate effort to appear as though he hadn't seen the cub's gesture, his movements flustered, a pair of large black ears folded flat against the back of his head.
Fufu's greeting received no response, but he didn't feel embarrassed either. He withdrew his little hand, leaned back into Hickson's embrace, and was quickly distracted by something new.
Uther's pair of big black ears were pinned back against his head, twitching with each step he took. They looked so soft, so light, as if two little hands were beckoning to Fufu…
Without thinking, Fufu reached out, leaning forward to touch Uncle Uther's back of the head.
Hickson quickly intercepted the cub's mischievous little hand, pulling him back into his arms.
Fufu was just about to wonder why when he heard his brother whisper softly in his ear: "Your Uncle Uther has social anxiety. Don't tease him."
"Social anxiety?"
Fufu blinked. What did that mean?
Fufu looked at the werewolf ahead again, only to see the other's ears pressed even lower, his big tail tucked between his legs, yet still swaying back and forth.
So that's what social anxiety meant…
Fufu pondered for a moment, then understood—social anxiety meant very cute. Uncle Uther was so socially anxious!