Immigration Issue

New Basilicata.

This mountain city had fully entered wartime control. Supplies were distributed daily by designated personnel. To withstand the English naval blockade, it had stockpiled an enormous quantity of materials, many of which had even been purchased from the belligerent nations.

Merchants from Mexico and the North American Colonies did not care whether you were a creature of darkness. So long as you paid in pounds sterling, they would even sell you the rope to hang themselves with.

Fringilla's days consisted of tedious, repetitive formation-setting. She had not even taken part in the Battle of New Naples or the Texas-Mexico War. Yet her initial boredom had gradually turned into enjoyment.

There were more smiles on her face these days.

"See this Cross Strangling Formation? The moment an enemy steps inside, they'll be shredded into minced meat. The casting materials are cheap, it's easy to set up, and once we return to our world, finding substitutes will be no trouble."

"And this one—once it senses a living person approaching, it goes 'bang.' It won't even leave scraps of flesh behind. Instead, it uses their remains as a foundation to spawn a Blood Demon Hound."

"Speaking of Blood Demon Hounds, I used to keep a whole pack in the royal court. Every one of them was bloody and adorable. Whenever they killed prey, they would immediately draw out the blood and deliver it to their master. But it's been so many years. Kools and I haven't been home, so those little fellows were probably taken and eaten by other vampires long ago."

"Especially that absolute bitch Elena. She's wanted to take over my sleeping chamber and coffin for ages. The blood energy there is the richest."

Cherinina listened silently beside her as Fringilla chattered on, occasionally taking a chocolate stick from