The castle's butler system was highly advanced, capable of monitoring the entire castle and estate in real time while also coordinating robots to handle household chores. As such, there were no other servants in the house—the sole butler, Uther, merely checked on the system's operations during his daily routine.
Before their arrival, the system had already dispatched small robots to clean Hickson's room, leaving it spotless and ready for their stay.
The decor of Hickson's bedroom in the castle was thoroughly vampire-esque—intricately patterned dark wallpaper, heavy curtains, an ornate crystal chandelier, and tall arched stained-glass windows that forever reflected the gloomy twilight, making the space even more somber than his house in Radiance City, exuding an eerie aura of death.
Hickson himself quite liked this environment—comfortable and at ease. But he noticed that perhaps due to his young age, Fufu wasn't particularly fond of this style.
Fufu liked fruit, liked lively things, liked shiny objects, and disliked blood and coffin beds.
He was a very different kind of vampire cub.
So, since they were going to stay long-term, Hickson planned to redecorate the place, transforming it into something Fufu would truly love—a dedicated playroom for the cub, sealed off from the rest of the castle so the little one wouldn't be affected by the gloomy atmosphere outside.
This morning, he and Fufu had gone to the mall to pick out brand-new soft furnishings—pale pink wallpaper, ocean-blue curtains, a mint-green little sofa, thick plush carpeting, and a mountain of stuffed animals—everything purchased according to the cub's preferences.
Small household robots bustled in and out continuously. Hickson and Uther helped with the setup as well, and even Fufu, clutching his newly bought plush toy, stood on his tiptoes to arrange things on the bed.
Within less than an hour, the originally dim and dreary room had been completely transformed into a light, sweet children's room—and a remarkably spacious one at that. The inner and outer rooms combined were larger than Hickson's flat in the city center, more than enough space for the cub to run laps around.
Hickson also cleared out a room next door, moving his original desk, books, and various odds and ends in there, so he could occasionally work overtime here without disturbing the cub.
When they finished tidying up and returned to the room, they found Fufu hugging his newly purchased giant bear toy, humming contentedly.
The bear was cream-white with a soft texture, and Fufu had fallen head over heels for it at the mall.
Since the house was spacious enough, Hickson had gone straight for the largest size—nearly as tall as a full-grown adult.
Fufu was so small that he could use the bear as a sofa, no wonder he refused to let go once he had his arms around it.
Hickson sat down on the sofa, watching the cub cling to the bear's belly with such a blissful expression, and instantly felt that the whole morning's work had been worth it.
But after watching a while longer, something began to feel off.
You see, Fufu had always been a clingy cub—the moment he saw Hickson sit down, he'd come running over for a hug, even insisting on holding onto an adult to fall asleep peacefully.
But now, Hickson had been sitting there for ages, and the cub was still playing with the bear, seemingly not noticing him at all.
And that way he was hugging the bear… didn't it look exactly like how he hugged Hickson?
A seed of doubt began to form in Hickson's mind.
He had always thought Fufu liked hugging him because the cub trusted him and was attached to him, but thinking about it now, could it be that this little one simply liked hugging things?
But he was a real person, wasn't he? How could he be worse than a bear?
Hickson felt that competing with a bear for affection was incredibly childish, yet he couldn't help mulling it over. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer and called out stiffly, "Fufu."
The cub immediately turned around.
Hickson opened his arms toward him—this was the gesture Fufu usually used when asking to be held, and he had copied it.
But his arms were long and large, and being as big as he was, the gesture inevitably came off a bit awkward, adding a hint of embarrassed irritation to his signature coffin-like face.
If he had made this expression out in public, anyone who saw it would probably start reflecting on what they had done to offend this CEO, wondering why he harbored such resentment toward them.
Fortunately, the cub didn't mind his sour expression at all. The moment he saw Hickson reaching out, his face lit up with joy, and he threw down the bear and pounced over: "Big brother!"
Hickson gathered the cub back into his arms and bounced him a couple of times, finally feeling at ease.
Just then, the butler Uther knocked and entered.
He didn't say anything upon entering, just glanced at the two of them, then turned around and gestured for them to follow.
"What's wrong?"
Hickson carried Fufu and followed, only to be led to the dining room.
A meal was already set out on the table, its aroma wafting through the air.
Hickson raised an eyebrow. "You made this?"
The werewolf butler's ears twitched, and he nodded with his head lowered.
This time, Hickson was genuinely surprised.
His family had never had much desire for food. He usually only drank Nutrient Solution, and his father was even more extreme—mixing red wine with artificial blood was enough to count as a meal for him.
So they had never hired a chef, nor even equipped a robot with cooking functions. He had never known that his werewolf butler possessed such a skill.
Fufu was delighted as well. After being set down in his chair, he immediately grabbed the edge of the table and peered up at it.
In the small plate in front of him, the steak had been specially cut into the shape of a five-pointed star, outlined with sauce, looking absolutely adorable—it struck the cub right in the heart.
Fufu's eyes practically sparkled with stars as he looked at Uther with great admiration: "Uncle, you're so amazing! You cook so well!"
The werewolf butler lowered his head even further.
Hickson watched his cub, who praised everyone he met, and silently pursed his lips.
But he could only bring over the cub's high chair, move the little one to the table, then sit down across from him and call Uther over to join them.
The two of them sat on either side, watching Fufu enjoy his meal.
His Fufu never gave anyone cause for worry when it came to eating. He immediately stabbed a piece of steak with his little fork, took a big "ah-wu" bite, and chewed with his cheeks puffed out.
He seemed to be eating quickly, but in fact, he chewed thoroughly, never letting himself choke.
However, as Hickson looked at the dish—the main course being steak, the side dish chicken cutlet, the drink lamb soup, plus a small plate of fried meat jerky as a snack, and the staple being only a finger-length piece of bread topped with bacon—
Mm, a very werewolf-style meal indeed…
Although vampires also disliked eating vegetables, they mainly rejected fruits and leafy greens, and they preferred fresh blood, having no strong preference for this kind of fully cooked meat.
Although Fufu had a good appetite, even he could only finish the steak from such an all-meat meal, sampling a bit of each side dish before feeling too greasy to eat any more.
This wasn't a balanced diet at all.
Luckily, he had bought plenty of Fufu's favorite fruits that morning.
Hickson could now stand in the scent of sunlight without changing his expression while peeling fruit for Fufu.
What did the scent of sunlight matter? He even found it somewhat pleasant now—stimulating with a hint of intoxication.
Hickson peeled an apple and washed some strawberries. While Fufu was eating, he explained to Uther—he would be staying at the castle with Fufu for a while, and during this time he would try to bring his work back to handle it there, balancing both work and childcare. But if something truly required him to leave, he would need Uther to look after Fufu.
Hearing this, the tall werewolf butler looked at Fufu anxiously.
Fufu noticed his gaze, cheerfully called out "Uncle," then, acting as if they were old friends, picked up a small strawberry with his fork and offered it to him.
Uther quickly waved his hands, shrinking back as far as he could, and looked at Hickson as if begging for help, his two big ears hiding behind him again.
Hickson chuckled: "It's fine. You're not good with young ones, so you can go about your own business—Fufu will play by himself. You just need to check on him every half hour."
He added: "Also, I need to trouble you to prepare some food for Fufu. Don't make it all meat dishes—include some staples and vegetables, try to keep it balanced."
Cooking was much simpler for Uther, and he immediately nodded.
Hickson knew that aside from being quiet, his butler was reliable at everything he did, so he felt at ease.
He continued: "These things aren't a problem. Fufu is easy to care for and not picky about food. If there's really no time to cook, some nutrient solution will do. But there's one thing you must pay attention to—"
Hickson lowered his voice and instructed: "Make sure to keep an eye on Fufu. Don't let him leave the children's room area, and especially don't provoke…"
Before he could finish, a lazy voice came from behind Hickson: "Oh, you're back?"
Hickson's expression tightened as he turned around—a figure had somehow already appeared behind them.
The man was tall and burly, his shirt hanging loose and sloppy, half tucked in and half hanging out. His signature silver hair was disheveled, and stubble covered his chin.
Yet even in this slovenly, unkempt state, the intense pressure radiating from him was undiminished, his blood-red eyes full of mockery.
"Oh, busy man, still haven't gone to the office? Finally decided to give up and just laze around at home waiting to die?"
Hickson didn't respond, silently picking up Fufu and holding him close.
Yes, this was his father, Lennon Nosferatu, the current head of the Nosferatu family.
The most powerful and formidable man among the existing Blood Clan.
As he spoke, the man had already approached, studying the young one in Hickson's arms with interest.
"Is this the little thing you just picked up?"
Hickson frowned, holding the child tighter, and said, "His name is Fufu. I've already adopted him—"
Lennon looked up at his wary expression, let out a scoff, shook his head, and turned to walk away.
"Whether you keep some little pet, why would you need to tell me? It's not like you're keeping it in my room."
He took a few steps away, then suddenly stopped and turned his head. "Still, if it's yours, then keep an eye on it yourself. Don't let it run around. If it comes and spills my wine… hmph, you know the consequences."
With that, Lyennor didn't wait for their reaction. His form flickered, and in an instant, he vanished before the three of them.
Only a wisp of Dark Shadow lingered in the air, quickly dissolving into nothing.
Silence fell over the dining hall.
Hickson's expression was grim. Uther seemed a little worried and raised a hand to pat his shoulder.
Hickson steadied himself and spoke. "It's fine… He doesn't usually leave his room anyway. Just make sure Fufu doesn't run into him."
In truth, Hickson knew the other man was only trying to scare him. No matter how bad his temper was, he wouldn't actually stoop to picking a fight with a four-year-old cub.
But then again, the man could get drunk eight times in a seven-day week. Even if he wouldn't hurt the cub, he'd still frighten him. Better to keep Fufu out of his way.
Hickson's heart ached a little. His father hadn't always been like this.
A former Alliance general. A living legend… Those titles all felt as distant as a past life.
In his youth, Lyennor had fought in the Fantasy Species Alliance's war of independence. With his godlike space-type supernatural power, he'd broken through deadlocks for the Alliance army time and again, earning the title of Blood Clan War God.
After the war ended, he'd stepped away from politics and founded the Twilight Group, and his business ventures had gone smoothly as well.
But ever since ten years ago, when his mother Isa had turned to crystal, the man had fallen into decline. He'd withdrawn from the world, shut himself in his room, and drowned his days in drink.
On the rare occasions he did see Hickson and the others, he'd always sneer and mock them—after his mother left, it was as if he'd become a different person overnight.
But Hickson had grown used to it by now. He was just a little annoyed with himself—he'd long since stopped holding any expectations for the man, yet when faced with him, his heart still ached for no reason.
Hickson took another deep breath, composed himself, and looked down. The cub in his arms was staring wide-eyed at the spot where Lyennor had disappeared.
Had he been scared senseless?
Hickson gave him a little shake. "What's wrong, Fufu?"
He rubbed the back of the cub's head, about to comfort him properly, when Fufu turned back around and said with a delighted look:
"Fluffy white fur, so pretty!"
Hickson couldn't help but laugh—so his little one hadn't been scared at all, just watching the show, huh?
How could there be a cub this carefree?
Hickson even found himself wondering what expression Lyennor would have made if the cub had blurted out "fluffy white fur" right to his face.
At the thought, even Uther couldn't help but curl the corner of his mouth.
Fufu looked between the two of them, confused, and emphasized again: "Pretty!"
The two adults could barely hold it in, muffling their laughter for a good long while.
Once they'd had their fill, Hickson rubbed his chin against Fufu's little cheek and said seriously:
"Fufu, that's Father, not fluffy white fur. He likes to be alone. When you play at home, make sure you don't disturb him, got it?"
Fufu understood that, so he nodded in agreement.