“Damned Ursus dogs.
Didn’t command say their Fourth Army Group took heavy casualties recently?
Why are they mobilizing again?” an angry voice cursed into the freezing night.
“Maybe taking heavy losses is exactly why they are trying to make up ground elsewhere,” another man replied, his heavy boots crunching against the stone.
“Do they think Yan is soft prey?
Yumen has already shifted its borders, and Lungmen pushed a hundred kilometers north.
We have them in a perfect pincer.
If those Ursus cubs dare to cross the line, we will make sure they never return.” The first speaker puffed his chest out, his tone dripping with national pride.
“Do not underestimate them.
A wounded beast is the most dangerous kind.
We do not need a death match.
Applying enough pressure to force a retreat is the smartest play.
Though, it would be nice to give our northern neighbor a good thrashing while we are at it.
They have been entirely too restless lately.”
“You mean Higashi?”
“Exactly.
A tiny island nation, still tearing itself apart in a north-south civil war.
If it were not for the True Dragon’s mercy, I would have marched an army in and swallowed that miserable place whole years ago.”
“And that is exactly why you and I are just foot soldiers.
The True Dragon has his reasons.”
“You always talk so high and mighty.
Keep it up and I will feed you your own teeth.”
“You asked the question, you brute, and now you refuse the answer?”
“Enough, both of you.
There is a cave up ahead.
It is getting too dark and cold.
We camp there for the night.”
Flandre Scarlet listened from the deep shadows of the cavern.
The heavy footsteps were heading straight for her.
Based on the chatter, these men were a Yan border patrol, out here because Ursus was planning a spring offensive.
For Flandre, this brought excellent news.
Lungmen had moved closer.
The distance she needed to travel had just been cut drastically short.
She retreated further into the pitch-black depths.
The cave was massive, and since she had no need for a campfire to keep warm, she simply blended into the darkness, letting her natural night vision guide her.
The Yan soldiers had no desire to explore the cavern.
They dropped their gear near the entrance, just far enough inside to escape the biting wind and snow.
“April already, and it still freezes the marrow,” one muttered, rubbing his hands together.
“Late spring chill…”
The men settled in, and the crude banter resumed.
Flandre sat cross-legged in the dark, her crimson eyes blinking as she eavesdropped.
Her expression soon twisted into one of deep amusement.
In her fragmented memories of another world, she recalled someone saying that if the private conversations of men were ever broadcasted, they would all be lined up for the firing squad.
It seemed this world was no different.
They started with loud debates about which cities had the prettiest women, transitioned into harsh critiques of Yan domestic policy, and finally devolved into a tabletop war game.
‘You play Yan, I play Ursus.
If I flank here, what is your counter?’
The sheer audacity and vulgarity of their talk left the curious little vampire utterly entertained.
These random Yan grunts were vastly more amusing than the gloomy fanatics she had met in the Reunion Movement.
Eventually, the loud voices faded into heavy snores.
Flandre curled up in her secluded corner and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
When she opened her eyes the following morning, the cave entrance was empty.
The patrol had moved out at first light.
Flandre stepped out into the crisp morning air, verifying she was alone.
The soldiers’ idle chatter had given her a perfect map.
Lungmen was currently stationed directly to the south.
Not only was it monitoring Ursus, but it also choked off the only viable route from Leithanien into Yan.
Lungmen held an absolute monopoly on all information and traffic passing through this region.
She did not need to wander blindly anymore.
Reaching into her dress, she pulled out the two sealed letters Talulah had given her.
A small, knowing smile touched her lips.
Talulah likely had no idea that her estranged sister now held a massive amount of authority within Lungmen.
With Chief Executive Wei Yenwu backing her, delivering these letters would guarantee Flandre a comfortable stay.
Hiding a single vampire in a metropolis as sprawling as Lungmen would be child’s play.
The only real obstacle was the approach.
Going through official L.G.D.
checkpoints meant endless bureaucracy, and she might never actually reach the top brass.
But sneaking in unannounced would immediately paint her as a hostile threat.
‘Forget it,’Flandre thought, tucking the letters away.’The cart will find its way around the hill.
Flandre will just go look at the city first.
If they are mean, Flandre can always fly over the walls at night.’
Pushing the complicated politics aside, she bent her knees and launched herself into the sky, streaking southward like a crimson comet.
An hour of flight brought a dramatic shift in the landscape.
The barren snowfields melted away, replaced by the vibrant green of early April.
As she drifted over the rolling plains, a cloud of dust caught her attention.
Down below, a high-speed pursuit was tearing across the dirt roads.
Flandre dropped lower, her eyes widening in surprise.
It was an official Lungmen Guard Department off-road vehicle, aggressively tailing a battered, rust-eaten transport truck.
And behind the wheel of the L.G.D.
cruiser was a very familiar face. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Flandre recognized that strict, unyielding glare immediately.
It was Ch’en Hui-chieh.
The exact stepping stone she needed to bypass Lungmen’s red tape.
Flandre shifted her gaze to the fleeing truck.
The men inside looked desperate, sweaty, and entirely unfamiliar.
‘Strangers mean bad guys!’Flandre concluded happily.
She had briefly hoped to run into the fun people from Penguin Logistics, but these men were clearly just common thugs.’If Flandre helps Ch’en catch the bad guys, she has to take Flandre into Lungmen, right?’
Clapping her hands together in delight, Flandre folded her crystalline wings and went into a steep dive.
The smuggler behind the wheel ground his teeth, stomping the accelerator to the floorboard.
He threw a frantic glance in his side mirror, cursing the relentless L.G.D.
cruiser riding his bumper.
They were just smuggling fresh pork hocks.
No weapons, no contraband Originium.
Was it really worth chasing them dozens of kilometers outside the city limits?
“Are these L.G.D.
dogs completely insane?!” the driver screamed.
The cruiser’s loudspeaker blared again, demanding he pull over immediately.
The driver’s blood boiled.
He prepared to slam on the brakes, hoping to wreck the cruiser’s front axle and buy himself an escape.
Before his foot could touch the brake pedal, a sweet, childish voice echoed inside the cramped cabin.
“Mister, you are driving entirely too slow!”
The driver froze, a violent shudder ripping through his spine.
He was the only person in this truck.
Where did that voice come from?
He slowly turned his head toward the passenger seat.
A little girl with golden hair and a red ribbon was sitting there, her legs swinging casually.
She was inspecting a bright red apple in her hands.
“Mister, how about we just stop the truck?” Flandre offered a bright, innocent smile.
“If Flandre has to stop it for you, it might hurt a whole lot.”
To emphasize her point, Flandre closed her small fist.
The apple instantly detonated into a fine mist of juice and pulverized pulp.
The driver swallowed a lump of pure terror.
He slammed his foot down on the brake pedal with everything he had.
The heavy truck locked its tires, skidding to a violent, screeching halt in the middle of the dirt road.
A fraction of a second later, a deafening crash shook the cabin.
The truck lurched forward.
“We got rear-ended,” the driver whimpered, keeping his hands glued to the wheel, terrified the little monster beside him would turn his skull into apple sauce.
Flandre looked into the side mirror.
The L.G.D.
cruiser had plowed directly into the reinforced steel of the truck’s rear gate.
She assumed a heavy off-road vehicle could handle a crash like that.
She was wrong.
Grayish-white crystals began spilling from the cruiser’s shattered hood, mixing with the hissing steam.
Active Originium dust.
Highly volatile and lethally infectious.
In the blink of an eye, Flandre split her existence.
Inside the crumpled cruiser, Ch’en Hui-chieh was slumped against the deployed airbag, dazed and bleeding slightly from her forehead.
Before the toxic dust could breach the cabin, the heavy armored door was effortlessly ripped off its hinges.
Small hands grabbed the Senior Superintendent and hauled her out of the danger zone.
Back in the truck, the driver watched the rescue happen in his mirror.
He blinked, his brain misfiring.
He looked at the mirror, where the little girl was carrying the cop.
Then he looked at his passenger seat, where the exact same little girl was still sitting, wiping apple juice from her hands.
“Are you looking for Flandre?” the girl in the seat asked, flashing a brilliant smile.
“Flandre is over there, and Flandre is right here too!”
The driver looked at the mirror.
Looked at the seat.
The sheer impossibility of the situation, combined with her sudden manifestation, shattered his remaining sanity.
“M-Monster!” he shrieked, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slumped over the steering wheel, completely unconscious.
A few minutes later, Ch’en Hui-chieh gasped, her eyes snapping open.
She sat up on the grass, rubbing her throbbing temples.
Her last memory was the smuggler brake-checking her, followed by the unavoidable impact.
“Dammit…” she groaned, her entire body aching.
Then she realized she was sitting in an open field.
She snapped her head toward the road.
Her cruiser was a total loss, the front end crushed like a tin can.
Worse, highly reactive Originium dust was coating the wreckage.
If she had remained inside for even a minute longer, she would have faced severe infection or death.
Who pulled her out?
The smuggler’s truck was parked safely a few dozen yards ahead.
There was no way a desperate criminal had risked his life to save an L.G.D.
officer.
“Are you looking for Flandre?”
A crisp, cheerful voice chimed from right behind her.
Ch’en spun around, her hand instinctively reaching for her sword hilt.
Standing there was a young girl with golden hair, a white hat tied with a massive red bow, and a sickeningly sweet smile.
Then Ch’en saw the wings.
Bizarre, skeletal bat wings adorned with glowing, colorful crystals.
“A Blood Fiend!” Ch’en spat, instantly identifying the Sarkaz sub-race.
“You do not need to look around.
Besides you, me, and that sleeping driver, there is no one else here.
Flandre is the one who saved you from that nasty car.” The girl planted her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest with pride.
“Why would a Sarkaz save an L.G.D.
officer?” Ch’en demanded, her stance rigid.
There was no such thing as a free lunch, especially not from a notorious Blood Fiend.
“Oh, so you are from Lungmen?” Flandre feigned ignorance perfectly.
“With that uniform and that car, you must be from the Guard Department.”
“I am.
And what of it?
You may have pulled me from that wreck, but I will never betray Lungmen to repay a debt,” Ch’en declared with righteous fury.
Looking at Ch’en’s dramatic, death-before-dishonor expression, Flandre had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
If she broke character now, this negotiation would go nowhere.
“Flandre is not asking you to betray anyone.
Flandre just has a letter to deliver to Governor Wei Yenwu.
But with my identity, walking through the front gates is inconvenient.
Even if I get inside, seeing him is impossible.
You are an officer.
I saved your life, and I stopped the bad guy for you.
In exchange, you just need to deliver this letter to the Governor for me.”
Flandre gave her best innocent, pleading look.
“Absolutely not.
How do I know you have not laced the letter with Arts or poison?” Ch’en refused without a second thought.
“Does the Governor not have guards?
Can he not have someone else open it and read it to him?” Flandre stared at her as if she were an idiot.
Ch’en opened her mouth to argue, found zero logic to stand on, and snapped her jaw shut.
“Anyway, your car is completely ruined,” Flandre pointed out cheerfully.
“Let us take the truck back and chat on the way.
Flandre feels like you have a very unfair prejudice against her.”
Ch’en scowled, dusting off her uniform.
She marched over to the smuggler’s truck.
Yanking the driver’s side door open, she found the man slumped over, drooling on the wheel.
“What did you do to him?” Ch’en demanded.
Flandre shook her head, her crystalline wings chiming softly.
“Flandre does not know.
He has been like this since the truck stopped.
Flandre did not hurt him.”
Ch’en checked his pulse.
He was merely unconscious.
She delivered two sharp slaps to his cheeks.
The man gasped, his eyes flying open.
The moment he saw Ch’en’s uniform, he grabbed her sleeve frantically.
“Officer!
There…
there is a ghost in here!”
“Flandre is not a ghost.
Flandre is a Vampire!”
The cheerful voice came from directly behind his seat.
The man let out a high-pitched squeak and instantly fainted again.
Ch’en’s pupils shrank.
Just seconds ago, the Blood Fiend had been standing ten yards away on the grass.
When did she get inside the cabin?
Realizing the driver was useless, Ch’en unclipped her handcuffs, secured his wrists to the passenger side grab-handle, and shoved him over.
She climbed into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel as she glared at the little monster in the rearview mirror.
“Sigh.
Flandre knows you will not agree to take her into the city,” Flandre said, leaning forward.
“But we are in the middle of nowhere.
Your conscience would hurt if you abandoned your savior and a defenseless little girl out here, right?”
Ch’en scoffed internally at the word defenseless.
“How about this,” Flandre continued smoothly.
“You drive me to the outskirts of Lungmen.
Flandre will give you the letter there.
You take it to Governor Wei Yenwu.
Whatever his answer is, you bring it back to me outside the walls.
This way, you do not break any rules, and Flandre gets her job done.”
It was a perfectly reasonable compromise.
Yet, Ch’en’s stubborn pride still urged her to refuse.
Before she could speak, Flandre’s innocent smile melted into something entirely predatory.
The air in the cabin suddenly felt suffocatingly heavy.
“Flandre highly suggests you accept this proposal, Miss Ch’en.
It is the easiest, safest solution for everyone involved.
If you refuse…
well, what do you think a hungry Vampire might do to get Governor Wei Yenwu’s attention?
Flandre thinks it would be very, very messy.”
[Rhodes’s Note:
Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?
(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent!
🙇♂️):
to use the links!)