Entering the Profound

Rose O'Hara had been staying obediently in James's study. She was a clever girl; although the inhuman wails and howls echoing from the manor square outside the window turned her lips pale with fear, she managed to keep her curiosity well under control.

She even took out a hunting rifle from the study, skillfully checked it, loaded the rounds, and chambered a shell. There wasn't much daily entertainment at the manor, and since James was exceptionally open-minded and doted on O'Hara, she had gone horseback riding and hunting quite often.

At this moment, O'Hara was leaning against the hidden door leading to the basement, listening nervously to the commotion outside.

BOOM!

The window was suddenly shattered by a disheveled figure. A short, stout, and ugly man collapsed onto the study floor. Gray dust covered his pale face, which was mapped with greenish-black veins. He scrambled up in a panic, only to see the tall, trembling girl standing to the side.

Hiss!

Marcus's brain had never spun so fast. In fact, he had no other choice at this moment. That monster of a Mr. Howlett was running along the manor walls as if they were flat ground, and he was no slower than him. After taking a punch from James, he had been sent flying into the room. At this point, he couldn't think of any other way to delay his death or save his life than to grab a human as a hostage.

BANG! BANG!

The hunting rifle in the girl's hands fired decisively at him. The impact on his chest slowed his pounce, but only for a moment. His fangs grew longer, and he lunged even faster toward the woman who dared to shoot at him.

Just then, the wall of the room was blasted open as if by a cannonball. Earth and stone flew everywhere, creating a hole the size of a man. These bricks and stones seemed to have eyes as they slammed into Marcus, burying him under the rubble by the wall.

James rushed in right behind, and seeing that O'Hara was unharmed, he let out a sigh of relief.

He looked at the vampire buried in the pile of dirt, slowly raised his palm, and pressed it down with a motion that seemed slow but was actually lightning-fast.

The vampire Marcus wanted to scream in agony, but his throat only hissed as blood bubbled out. James had put the full limit of his current Anjin power into this palm strike. While avoiding the head, he effectively shattered the vampire's entire skeletal structure and tissues. Bone shards pierced through his limbs, his internal organs were pulverized, and foul-smelling black blood slowly seeped out from beneath him.

For a while, even with a vampire's self-healing ability, it would be very difficult for him to regain the power to move.

Late at night.

Little O'Hara hummed softly as she leaned against James's shoulder. She looked fine, a smile still hanging on the corners of her mouth. Opportunities to cling to James like this were rare. Having always been brave, she wasn't deeply affected after experiencing this night, only muttering from time to time about how "it was so scary," "thanks to you, Young Master," and "Young Master, you're so amazing!"

"Was the gun useful?"

Victor leaned against the doorframe, wearing his usual annoying smile. Although his physique had become increasingly exaggerated, he walked as if he had pads on his feet, silent and soundless. Except for James, it was hard for ordinary people to notice him.

O'Hara looked up at Victor, rolled her eyes dramatically, and ignored him.

"Did you finish him off, Victor?" James asked softly.

Victor gave a haughty snort as an answer, then added, "Don't snatch my prey next time."

"If you can handle it yourself."

James's indifferent reply made Victor grit his teeth. He didn't say anything more, turned around, and left.

Helena was a newly emerging town. Just recently, rumors had spread that gold had been discovered there, drawing a multitude of cowboys, explorers, prospectors, and criminals. Naturally, this also brought people to open saloons, restaurants, and inns. The gold rush was like the "industrialization driving urbanization" of this era.

A group of riders in black had been staying at the town's largest—and only—inn for two or three days. This left many gold-seeking explorers with nowhere to stay. It wasn't that no one had gone to cause them trouble; it was just that those who went never came back out.

"How many days has it been?" Adam said lazily, looking as if he had just woken up. His face was long and narrow with a thin bridge of the nose, making him look like a snake, yet he possessed a strange, eerie, and handsome quality. He leaned back in his chair, sipping continuously from a goblet filled with a bright red liquid.

"Three full days, Master." The one who answered looked at the sky outside; it was already dusk.

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

"You don't believe me!"

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

"I didn't believe it at first. I thought it was just a stupid excuse you made up for your failure. But Marcus is a cunning and cowardly fellow, and he brought eighteen of the Holy Race with him. Even if it were the lair of the Church's hunters, it shouldn't be that not a single one could make it to the rendezvous."

"But Master... how could that be..." The vampire who had been bowing and serving nearby said in disbelief.

"How could there be a human capable of defeating and killing my Holy Race with their bare hands, is that it?"

THUD!

"I wouldn't dare! This subordinate didn't mean that! This subordinate wouldn't dare doubt Master's power in the slightest!" The vampire servant immediately knelt on one knee, head bowed low, explaining in a panic.

Adam ignored the servant's repentance. His pupils narrowed into sharper slits. He remained silent for a long time, while Vadoma, standing to the side, wanted to speak but didn't dare.

"No more waiting. The war has already begun. That fool Dai Weisi still dreams of defeating Lincoln on his own! Hmph! Return to Cedar Mountain and summon all the Holy Race on the continent."

"Yes, Master Adam." The servant hurried to his feet to make arrangements. Vadoma, holding her wine glass, had a bitter look on her face; she already looked mean-spirited, and this made her appear even more repulsive.

"What about that Howlett in Canada?" she couldn't help but ask Adam.

"Let your human servants investigate. Investigate carefully." He then added, as if explaining to himself: "It won't be an ordinary human, and it couldn't be a human. It is very likely that they are just like us..."

Adam's eyes seemed to be recalling something. He had lived for a very, very long time, and he had caught glimpses of the truth of the world.

Howlett Estate, Underground Palace Training Room.

Hum... hum...

James was rolling a giant, hollow lead sphere with a diameter of one meter. This was a custom-made lead ball weighing 1,500 kilograms. Under the force of his movement, the lead ball, which was filled with a certain amount of mercury, emitted a low, heavy rumbling sound. He didn't stop his feet, moving without a fixed direction—sliding, lunging, or stepping. From time to time, he would roll the ball onto his shoulder, then shake it up to be caught by his palm. No matter how exaggerated or strange his movements were, the sphere moved with smooth, rounded undulations, without the slightest obstruction.

The battle with the vampire was the first time since coming to this world that he had truly let go and fought in a real-life-or-death situation. This allowed him to quickly find the final spark of inspiration to achieve a thorough Huajin. Although he had reached the realm of Huajin before, the true physical sensation could not be brought over by memory alone.

For these years, James had been stuck at the peak of Anjin, missing only that one final connection of power at the crown of his head. Although he often fought with Victor, he was always missing a true sense of killing intent. No martial arts grandmaster could ever be forged through comfortable practice or solitary training.

CLANG!

James suddenly punched the giant lead sphere. The lead and mercury spinning at high speed inside the ball were forced to an immediate halt by the power transmitted through the punch. In an instant, it was as if all force had ceased to exist; the lead ball stopped rotating, and even its inertia vanished. It just sat there, perfectly still, while the long, morning-bell-like sound echoed through the training room.

He felt a chill at the crown of his head, his scalp tightened, and a sliver of power surged out.

And just like that, his kung fu was complete.