Entering Huajin

Rose O'Hara had always been obedient, and she stayed in James's study. She was a clever girl. Though the unearthly wails and howls from the manor square beyond the window had left her lips pale with fear, she managed to keep her curiosity under control.

She even took a hunting rifle from the study and skillfully checked it, loaded it, and chambered a round. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment at the estate, and James was especially open-minded and doting toward O'Hara. She'd gone riding and hunting plenty of times.

O'Hara now stood with her back against the hidden door leading to the basement, nervously listening for sounds outside.

Boom!

A battered figure suddenly crashed through the window. A short, somewhat fat, ugly man fell onto the study floor. Dust coated his pale face, crisscrossed with dark blue veins. He scrambled to his feet and spotted the tall young woman nearby, trembling with nerves.

Hiss!

Marcus's mind had never worked so quickly. In truth, he had no other choice. This monster of a Mr. Howlett had been running along the manor walls as if they were level ground, keeping pace with him. After taking a punch from James, Marcus had been sent crashing into the room. He couldn't think of any way to buy time and save his life except to take a human hostage.

Bang! Bang!

The girl fired her hunting rifle at him without hesitation. The impact to his chest slowed his lunge, but only for a moment. His fangs grew longer, and he lunged even faster at the woman who had dared to shoot him.

Just then, the wall of the room exploded as if hit by a cannonball, sending chunks of earth and stone flying. A person-sized hole opened in it, and the rubble seemed to have eyes as it slammed into Marcus, burying him against the wall with a crash.

James charged in right after. Seeing that O'Hara was unharmed, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Looking down at the vampire buried in the rubble, he slowly raised his palm and pressed it down. The movement seemed slow, but it was swift.

Vampire Marcus was in too much pain to scream. Blood only hissed from his throat. James brought his palm down with all the power he could muster from his Anjin. He avoided the head, but nearly every bone and tissue in the vampire's body was crushed. Bone fragments jutted from his limbs, his organs were all shattered, and foul black blood seeped out beneath him.

Even with a vampire's healing ability, it would take a while before he could move again.

Late that night.

Young O'Hara leaned against James's shoulder, making soft, contented noises. She looked fine, with a smile still playing on her lips. She rarely got the chance to cling to James like this. She'd always been brave, and the night's events had done her no lasting harm. She only kept murmuring, "That was so scary," "Thank goodness for you, young master," and "You're amazing, young master!"

"Was the gun any use?"

Victor leaned against the doorframe, wearing his ever-annoying grin. Though his build had become more and more exaggerated, he walked as if his feet had padded soles, making no sound at all. Ordinary people would have had trouble noticing him. Only James could.

O'Hara glanced up at Victor and rolled her eyes, then ignored him.

"Did you lock him up, Victor?" James asked softly.

Victor gave an arrogant snort by way of reply, then said, "Don't steal my prey again."

"If you can handle it."

James's nonchalant answer made Victor grit his teeth. He said nothing more and turned to leave.

Helena was a town that had only recently sprung up. Word had spread that gold had been discovered nearby, and cowboys, adventurers, prospectors, and criminals had flocked to the area. They'd brought people to open bars, restaurants, and inns, too. The gold rush was like this era's version of "industrialization driving urbanization."

A group of black-clad riders had been staying for two or three days at the town's largest—and only—inn. Many of the prospectors who had come to seek their fortunes had nowhere to stay. It wasn't that nobody had tried to confront the riders; it was that none of those who went to see them ever came back out.

"How many days has it been?" Adam asked lazily, as if he'd just woken up. His face was long and narrow, and his nose was thin, making him look like a snake, though there was something strangely handsome and bewitching about him. Leaning against the back of his chair, he kept sipping the crimson liquid in his goblet.

"Three days exactly, Master." The servant who answered glanced at the sky outside. It was already evening.

"Marcus is far too late. If Vadoma wasn't lying, they won't be coming back."

"You don't believe me!"

"Ha, my dear sister." Adam shook his head and continued.

"I didn't believe you at first. I thought you were making a foolish excuse for your failure. But Marcus is a cunning, cowardly man, and he took eighteen members of the Holy Race with him. Even if they'd gone to the Church's hunters' lair, at least one of them should have made it back to rendezvous with us."

"But, Master... how could..." said the bloodkin who had been bowing at his side, serving him. He couldn't believe it.

"How could there be a human who could defeat and kill members of my Holy Race with their bare hands? Is that what you mean?"

Thud!

"I wouldn't dare! That's not what I meant! I would never doubt your power, Master!" The bloodkin servant immediately dropped to one knee and bowed his head low, hastily explaining himself.

Adam paid no attention to the servant's pleas. His pupils narrowed to slits, and he remained silent for a long while. Vadoma stood nearby, wanting to speak but not daring to.

"We're not waiting any longer. The war has begun, and that fool Davis still thinks he can defeat Lincoln on his own. Hmph! Return to Cedar Mountain and summon all the members of the Holy Race across the continent."

"Yes, Master Adam." The servant hurried to his feet and went to make arrangements. Vadoma, holding a wineglass nearby, looked bitter; her already sharp, unpleasant features seemed even more hateful.

"You're not going to deal with that Howlett in Canada?" she couldn't help asking Adam.

"Have your human servants investigate him. Carefully." Then, as if explaining it to himself, he added, "He can't be an ordinary human. He can't be human at all. He's probably like us..."

Adam's eyes seemed to drift back through his memories. He had lived for a very, very long time, and had glimpsed fragments of the world's truth.

Howlett Estate, Underground Palace Training Room.

Vmmm... Vmmm...

James spun a gigantic hollow lead sphere a full meter in diameter. This specially made lead ball weighed fifteen hundred kilograms. With a certain amount of mercury inside, it let out a deep, resonant rumble as he worked his force through it and set it spinning. His feet never stopped moving as he slid, darted, or stepped in no fixed direction. The sphere rolled onto his shoulder, then sprang up for him to catch on his palm. No matter how exaggerated or strange his movements became, the sphere rose and fell smoothly, without the slightest hitch.

The battle with the vampires was the first time since arriving in this world that he'd truly let loose and fought to kill. It had also quickly given him the final glimmer of inspiration he needed to master Huajin. Though he had reached that state before, the body's real sensations couldn't be recovered through memory alone.

For years, James had been stuck at the peak of Anjin, with only the force at the crown of his head left to open up. He often fought Victor, but always lacked that final breath of murderous intent. No martial arts grandmaster had ever achieved greatness through comfortable practice and solitary training alone.

Clang!

James suddenly punched the gigantic lead sphere. The punch's force penetrated the ball and brought the lead and mercury, which had been spinning rapidly inside, to an immediate halt. For an instant, it was as if all force had ceased to exist. The sphere stopped spinning, its momentum gone, and hung perfectly still. Only a long, sonorous sound, like the tolling of a morning bell, echoed through the Training Room.

He felt a coolness at the crown of his head. His scalp tightened, and a thread of force shot upward.

He had done it.