Vol10 Deadly Embrace

In the cramped confessional, Father Leon sat on one side, while Jiang Xueming stood ready on the other.

The two were only 120 centimeters apart as the crow flies, separated by two small cubicles, with a dark cloth curtain between them and a small window about 30 centimeters long and wide.

The confessional room was soundproofed, and the soundproofing material ensured the privacy of those confessing.

In religious rites, confessing to clergy is a way of reaching the ears of God, a heartfelt self-reflection, and a prayer for divine forgiveness for one's sins.

At this moment, Leon firmly believed his old friend's advice to completely let down his guard and talk to the young Nun about her life, her past, and finally, her great future.

He loosened his tie and placed the token, imbued with his perfume and body odor, on the small windowsill; he was very confident in his masculine charm.

If you don't quite understand this action, or can't comprehend it--

--In other words, it's like a charming married woman untying her scarf by the window and placing this fragrant silk garment in front of a stranger.

Leon is waiting for an opportunity.

If the young Nun were to say or do something to the tie...

He could then skip the lengthy and complicated process of confession and choose another path to directly target the womanizer.

But a minute passed--

Nothing happened.

It was as if the clergy's studio on the other side of the black curtain was completely empty.

The Nun's breathing remained unchanged, as did her body temperature and blood flow.

This angered Leon, and a burning sense of shame welled up inside him. He reached out again and deliberately pushed his tie to the other end of the black curtain, letting a corner of it peek out.

Jiang Xueming: "You started loosening your tie and taking off your clothes as soon as you entered the confessional? You must have some serious illness."

Hearing a reply, Leon breathed a sigh of relief—at least it wasn't a wasted effort.

"Miss, my gesture of loosening my tie was not meant to offend you, but rather to let you know that at this moment, I have set aside formalities and want to speak from the heart with you."

Jiang Xueming: "Speak."

Leon: "I am the godfather of the Red Queen Parish, and I am a vampire. Excuse me, but do you know what a vampire is?"

Jiang Xueming: "I know."

From the other party's concise and powerful response, Leon felt a strange sense of comfort and warmth.

"That's good. Then perhaps you can understand, empathize with, and forgive me for what I'm about to say."

Jiang Xueming: "We can talk about anything, there's nothing we can't talk about."

This top figure in London's vampire inner circle began to recount his rise to power.

His expression was complex, and he was hesitant, because he had never spoken of these things to anyone else.

But remembering his old friend Winston Spencer's instructions, the godfather seemed to revert to being human. He rested his hands on the small table, propped his chin up, and leaned forward to recount the sins of the vampires he had committed over the past twenty years.

Let me start with my family background.

Before I went to military academy, my family was only considered middle class. We were well-off, but we didn't have much money.

"During my years at school, I met many people, and thanks to Spencer, that clever fellow, I managed to squeeze into the social circles of the aristocratic children and meet the Red Queen."

"After graduation, I parted ways with Spencer. He wanted to go to Haiphong to serve his country, and I couldn't understand his thinking at all—why didn't such a smart and quick-witted person go into politics? If he had studied law for two more years, with his abilities, getting a paid position in parliament wouldn't have been a problem."

"Let's set aside my past with my old friend for now—little Nun, I want to confess to you."

"My first sin was jealousy. I was jealous of Spencer's talent and never understood how he could accomplish so much with just words. I had six competitors in the vampire cult's selection ceremony—I knew I couldn't persuade them with words, nor could I defeat them with words."

"Among them were young people more outstanding than me, and also candidates for the entourage favored by the Red Queen —I knew I was no match for them."

"I used various means to frame and destroy them, both psychologically and materially."

"There was a young man who was in the same cohort as me. He had a very pleasant voice, so I poisoned him to make him mute the night before the selection."

Jiang Xueming interrupted, "Wait, how did you do that?"

Leon: "Neurotoxins alone can do the trick. These poisons, which specifically target the central nervous system, are extremely potent. If the dosage is just right, they can temporarily render a person mute."

Jiang Xueming wrote it down in her notebook, "Go on."

Leon spoke slowly and deliberately.

"There were also young men who were more handsome and stronger than me, and who were excellent in bed. I dragged one of them to the basement, hired a few strong men to torture him for half a month, and got away with it cleanly."

Jiang Xueming: "Oh, oh."

Leon: "What's wrong? Is this an unforgivable sin?"

Jiang Xueming: "It's nothing. How is this gentleman doing these days?"

Leon: "The doctors at the mental hospital just performed a prefrontal lobe removal surgery on him last year, and he's currently doing well."

Jiang Xueming: "Go on."

On the other side of the black curtain, Godfather Leon's voice deepened, and his emotions plummeted.

"When I emerged victorious from this bloody selection process, I felt a deep sense of disgust."

"Because I hated my origins, my parents were like stingy and vulgar old-fashioned landlords. They taught me that I should feel a strong sense of guilt even if I spent an extra penny."

"Even in London, my family was by no means poor—yet they could find work trousers from twelve years ago, washed until faded, in their closets, and any instance of wasting food would immediately result in beatings and scoldings."

"I don't understand, I don't understand at all. They keep telling me how extravagant the lives of nobles are, and that I want to become a nobleman and live a better life."

"On the other hand, they send their hard-earned money into banks, waiting for pitiful interest rates and terrible inflation to ruthlessly steal their blood and sweat."

"Like lambs waiting to be slaughtered, they might even find a little self-satisfaction in such frugal and austere living."

"When the old Godfather chose me, I became a new vampire elite. The first thing I did was go back to my hometown in Ireland and kill everyone in my family, all my poor relatives, and all my direct bloodlines."

"I killed them for a very, very long time, men, women, young and old. It took me almost eight months to finally wipe them all out. That nauseating feeling finally disappeared."

"--I have erased my past."

Jiang Xueming: "What do you mean by 'barely killing them all'?"

Leon seized on the key point, saying, "Because during that time, many lovers came to me, saying they were pregnant with my children and that I had slit their throats and thrown them into the power plant to benefit society. If what they said is true, then I should still have one or two bastards wandering outside to kill."

Jiang Xueming: "Go on."

Leon breathed a sigh of relief, having endured the most indescribable and unbearable past.

He was very happy, and when he confided these things to others, it was as if he had truly connected with the divine.

He was particularly captivated by the little girl's spiritual pressure; her icy, knife-like aura fascinated him. He was certain that if he could bring this young Nun down to the dark side and have her join the ranks of the vampires, she would become the absolute core of the Red Queen Parish.

"When I finished the ceremony, I had arranged to go fishing by the river with the old godfather. But that old freak, to celebrate my rebirth and to let me feel the flow of life in my body, caught a fish and demonstrated it to me right there."

Jiang Xueming: "Wait a minute. What do you mean? Your words are too abstract."

Leon described it in a low voice. "It's embarrassing to talk about, but the feeling is really fascinating. And the cold fish in my hand is struggling, trembling violently due to dehydration and lack of oxygen. Its soft throat and sharp serrated teeth tear me apart again and again. The pain and strange pleasure make me lose myself in it."

Jiang Xueming: "Wait a minute. Please wait a minute."

Leon concluded.

"After I completed this ceremony, I completely dedicated myself to the devil, to the Red Queen. I did her dirty work, I was her loyal dog, facilitating power and money transactions inside and outside Downing Street, and using intimidation and beauty to deal with ministers and members of parliament."

"The old Godfather gave me a second life, but from the very beginning, I wanted to get rid of him. Vampires are immortal. If he doesn't die, how can I become the new Godfather?"

"So I prepared some excellent fish for him, carefully threading silver threads through its flesh without killing it, just like cooking. Under the stimulation of the electrodes, it was lively and vigorous. As the old Godfather savored this delicacy, I sent him on his final journey."

"This sudden power shift is the result of years of dedicated work by Barbara and me."

"At the same time, she bared her fangs at her foster mother, the Red Queen. As the Red Queen's personal handmaid, she opened the skull of the Virgin Mary of the parish and poured in six liters of mercury—from then on, the Red Queen became a brain-dead vegetable, and our puppet."

"I have finally achieved upward social mobility, accomplishing what my parents could not do in hundreds of years."

"So, having shown you my wickedness, I've also shown you my ability and determination. Are you really going to side with Mary Stuart?"

When the topic turned to work, Leon's tone became serious.

Through the black curtain, Jiang Xueming could see the various expressions on Godfather Leon's face.

For a fleeting moment, Leon revealed his Gate of Death, though it was brief, only a brief instant, but Xue Ming still managed to grasp that feeling.

Leon was starting to lose his patience. "Answer me! Why won't you speak?"

Jiang Xueming walked out of the confessional without a word and opened the door on the side of Father Leon's side.

She bowed to her godfather, placed her hands on the hem of her dress, and said with a smile.

"Could you try to recall, Mr. Leon? Think carefully about your fishing trip?"

Leon showed a slight look of surprise, as if he had found a kindred spirit.

You mean...

At this very moment--

--As this vampire leader carefully recalled the most bizarre, outrageous, and unbelievable thrilling experiences of his life.

His brainpower spiked, and his attention became scattered.

His pupils slightly lost focus, and his eyes followed a glimpse of shame and morbid malice elsewhere.

His fingers and knees twitched uncontrollably, completely unprepared.

The heavy lock on the Gate of Death clicked crisply.

-- Jiang Xueming said to his friend on the radio.

"Play music!"

At the same time--

--Robert Tang Ning was energized and quickly lit the salute fireworks.

Mr. Leon wanted to say something more, but his expression was wistful when he saw the little Nun bend down to embrace him, completely overwhelmed by the overwhelming joy that welled up inside him.

In the final seconds of his life, he could not forget the moment he killed the old Godfather in the grove of trees along a tributary of the Thames River.

--That was the ritual by which he obtained supreme power, a sacrificial ceremony completed with only a fish as an offering.

If he had a mirror, he would surely be able to see his own expression clearly, just like the old Godfather, who looked radiant and cheerful as he eagerly devoured the highly poisonous silver threadfin bream.

He felt pain--

Is it the holy light, like ripples on water, on the Nun's habit?

Is it because Christianity sacred objects have a natural warding effect on vampires?

But none of that matters anymore!

Importantly, I, Leon Charles, have the help of my old friend Winston Spencer, a shrewd and capable assistant whose advice will surely guide me down the right path.

When you hug a human, the temperature and pain feel so real.

There was a soft "plop" sound --

--Like the sound of a balloon or water bag bursting.

The sharp rifling cut through the mycelium suit of this vampire aristocrat, instantly slicing his skin.

Leon's eyes were glazed over, still lost in a beautiful future, immersed in a dream.

He held the little Nun tightly, oblivious to the burning pain in his fingers and arms.

He had a horrific wound in his throat that went deep into his bones.

--A gleaming silver knife flashed past Xue Ming's sleeve, severing Leon's cervical vertebrae in one swift motion, leaving only a sliver of flesh clinging to his head.

The firecrackers and fireworks in the mourning hall exploded with deafening noise. Meteor had already grabbed Commander Jessica's head and led the charge, performing a clumsy Nuo opera.

Almost all the guests were captivated by the living head, but Godmother Barbara remained concerned for Godfather, harboring a hidden worry for her business partner.

She clearly saw a shameless, whore-like Nun shove Leon into the confessional, in such a confined space! In such an intimate setting! They were alone together! About to do something shameless in this sacred place!

That was a blasphemous sin that Barbara never even dared to imagine.

Her mind raced; she wanted to join in immediately.

But after taking only two steps, amidst the shrill and piercing sound of the cannon salute, Barbara heard gunshots, and a dense, rain-like barrage of bullets rang out from the confessional.

She was in a state of turmoil, both surprised and delighted.

What was shocking was the vicious ambush hidden within the funeral.

What's gratifying is the transfer of power after Leon's death.

She hesitated, pondered, and tried to sense the changing spiritual pressure in the confessional.

In just a few seconds, she was blinded by greed and immediately pulled out a cold weapon from under her skirt—a swift sword.

She never parted with this silver-plated holy sword, only to find a legitimate opportunity to kill Leon Charles. As for her fighting skills, she was proficient in all eighteen European-style slashing techniques, from the Germany traditional Dusack Dagger used in street brawls to the Zorro Rapier used in life-or-death duels.

If you push open the door to the confessional—

--If Leon is still alive, then let's send him on his way with this sword.

--If Leon is already dead, then use this sword to send that ungrateful Nun on her way!

The Red Queen and the Rosary clashed at the funeral.

The Godfather dies suddenly, the assassin is brought to justice.

How wonderful that sounds!

At this moment, Barbara and her two godsons roared angrily, pointing towards the main stage of the funeral hall.

"The funeral has already begun! That's your benefactor! Go and kowtow to Dr. Wang Chenggui!"

Barbara was secretly overjoyed, thanking God for his blessing, as she secretly sent her children away to cover up the truth of murdering her husband and seizing power.

As she walked step by step toward the confessional, she felt the Godfather's spiritual pressure growing weaker and weaker, like an old lion about to fall from its throne as king of the pack.

Just in case, she cut open her thigh and took out a lipstick from the leg bone; the lipstick's piercing needle and base flame were her trump cards.

Hidden within the lipstick was a deadly silver bullet, a life-saving charm she had painstakingly preserved, risking amputation.

Nothing can stop me.

Barbara took deep breaths again and again, as if her physiological instincts from her human days were still driving her, as if she still possessed the ability to breathe, and as if her heart was about to start beating again.

"There is nothing."

Unfortunately, that short-sighted old butler has returned.

Winston Spencer stood in Barbara's way, becoming the final obstacle.

Barbara's eyes flickered frequently as she glanced at the strange Nuo opera performance among the guests. She saw people from various families and factions shouting and cheering, as if their enthusiasm had been stirred up by the burly young man.

She was thinking--

--If others were to discover the changes in spiritual pressure in the confessional and the matter were exposed to the public, this power transfer ceremony would likely be impossible to continue.

She became impatient and aggressive.

"Get out of the way, Spencer!"

Winston looked completely innocent. "Madam, my best friend is confessing to God; you cannot go over there."

Barbara brandished her sword, trying to scare away the ugly, clueless butler. "Get out! Get out of my way! I'm only doing this because of your past relationship with the Godfather! I'm only doing this for you! Don't force me to kill you!"

The blade left cuts on Uncle Winston's collar, revealing his muscular chest. With a few light steps, Winston, like a nimble dancer, blocked Barbara's path again.

"I'm afraid that won't work, Mrs. Barbara. Now is not the time."

Barbara gritted her teeth, wary of the man's agile movements, but dared not make a sound. She saw the housewives of Winterhold all stand up and look over curiously.

She immediately sheathed her sword and withdrew her hand, then whispered a conversation with Winston.

"You Inspiration fool! I can sense that the Godfather is very weak!"

Winston exclaimed in surprise, "Really?"

Barbara: "He's dying. This is an opportunity! Spencer! I've been sleeping with him for years, even dreaming about him suddenly dying one day while I'm drinking blood. If you help me, I'll give you many, many benefits."

Winston: "Oh! Oh! Madam! That won't do."

Barbara earnestly flattered and begged for favors, "The Godfather is dead, so I'm a widow, and a very, very rich widow."

Winston was even more surprised. "I see! Madam, please come with me!"

The two ran outside the confessional room--

Spencer personally opened the door for Barbara.

At that moment, Barbara witnessed a scene she could hardly comprehend, a sight she would rarely see in her entire life.

In the cramped little room, the originally aloof and elegant little Nun was kneeling on the ground.

The ruthless and vicious godfather, Léon Charles, the powerful figure whom Madame Barbara used to depend on for survival, is gone.

Specifically, he had turned into a pool of murky liquid and chunks of flesh on the wooden carpet.

Occasionally, tiny bits of tender meat would bounce on the wooden chair, only to be immediately sliced into even thinner strips by a silver knife.

"Hmph."

Barbara heard joyful laughter and smelled the stench of rotting mold.

"Hehehehe."

She saw the little Nun's eyes were chilling and terrifying, and the corners of her mouth were involuntarily turned up, as if she was experiencing supreme pleasure while committing violence.

"Hahahaha! Hahahaha!"

Scattered shrapnel and a tattered, filthy skeleton in the room told Barbara a truly terrifying story.

Leon Charles, head of the Red Queen Parish.

In this tiny room, barely two meters wide, this woman used guns and knives to tear him to pieces, leaving him no chance to resist.

It was little by little, bit by bit, that he endured excruciating pain, his spiritual pressure slowly dissipating until he finally became a medical specimen.

Barbara turned deathly pale in an instant, her pale skin so intense that even the naturally pale complexion of a vampire couldn't hide it. She almost lost all will to fight, and the moment her eyes met Jiang Xueming's, her body surrendered.

Even though a gangster who only knows how to chop people up can only be a gangster for life.

But Barbara can't even do something like chopping someone up anymore.

In the pitch-black confessional, what she saw was not a human being, or Nun or other clergy member with a human prefix; it was a pure devil from hell.

To be precise, it was a great demon who, within a minute, sliced a vampire's body into more than two hundred unequal strips of flesh.

Even a skilled butcher couldn't possibly cut the meat from a dead pig into pieces.

Barbara felt her consciousness fading away, and in that very instant—

Winston asked a question into the room.

Is this device any good?

Jiang Xueming: "They've all broken their promises; the silver is too soft."

Winston, with good intentions, pushed Mrs. Barbara inside, grabbed the hilt of the Swift Sword, and disarmed and broke her bones in one swift motion, as if cleaning up trash in a room.

Immediately afterwards, Barbara felt Hot Wind hit her face and crashed headfirst into Jiang Xueming's arms, giving him her last, fatal embrace.

Winston Spencer tossed the Swift Sword to Jiang Xueming without asking any questions.

He kicked the door shut, whistling as if he had done something wrong, while listening to the sounds of commotion and struggle inside the confessional.

It was a woman's scream, the clear sound of hair being pulled and neck bones being broken.

It's blood spurting from the carotid artery, accompanied by the hissing sound of bubbles gurgling from a torn vocal cord.

Even the most agonizing cries could not be uttered properly, eventually degenerating into a terrifying, demented groan that was a mixture of pain and basic nerve reflexes.

The final shot rang out!

--It's the muzzle flash of a miniature lipstick-sized gun.

The complex and terrifying sounds gradually subsided, transforming into another type of reassuring, rhythmic, and forceful cadence.

It sounded like a violin playing music, or like the anatomical notes produced when the clear spine of a sword rubs against bone.

Teacher San San saw it clearly and gestured to Mr. Winston from a distance.

Winston immediately opened the door a crack and slipped a new knife inside.

Jiang Xueming remained silent. The fabric of her Flash Butterfly Armor- shaped suit had been shot, leaving only a small white mark. She took the knife and immediately continued her autopsy, fearing that these unkillable monsters might regroup and revive. She felt she had to repeatedly desecrate their corpses to feel at ease.

Winston raised his hand with a beaming smile, indicating that Teacher San San didn't need to worry.

Teacher San San has a keen sense of smell and extraordinary Inspiration.

She looked puzzled, feeling that Mr. Winston seemed like a different person after reading the letter.

His ugly features were no longer scraggly as usual, and when he raised his eyebrows in triumph, one could appreciate his elegant demeanor.

The old butler, who used to have a lot of white hair, now looks like a withered tree has come back to life. His wrinkles and white hair have disappeared, as if he has returned to his youthful thirties in an instant.

Teacher San San just kept scratching her head, completely unable to understand it. She only knew it was a good thing, and in the end, she didn't think about it any further.

"That's strange."