Tiger (Part Two)

Arkansas, Jack Wilson.

In the northwest corner of Jack Wilson Town stood a three-story mansion that had been abandoned for many years. Few people dared go near it.

They said many people had died in that mansion. Its former owner had once been one of the town's most prominent plantation owners, with a vast cotton plantation and over a hundred Black slaves north of town.

But the master of the house had been especially cruel to his slaves. The bodies of slaves tortured to death were often found dumped nearby. Whether the story was true or not, it was said that the master had brutally killed a Black man, whose wife was a shaman. She had cursed him.

One night, the master went mad and shot his wife and children before putting a gun in his mouth and killing himself. The terrified townspeople burned the enslaved woman alive, and the mansion was left to decay. No one ever dared take it over or claim the land. The area became a forbidden place in Jacksonville.

It was impossible to know whether the rumors were true, but anyone who saw what was happening inside the old mansion at that moment would likely be haunted by nightmares for the rest of their life.

A dozen or so bluish-white mummified corpses lay scattered haphazardly through the hall and rooms. Men and women, even the elderly and children, all looked like withered flowers, shriveled and seemingly dried out.

As night fell, in the mansion's cellar, a coffin—somehow brought inside, still covered in dry dirt and roots—slowly opened from within. A pale, slender hand gripped its edge, and someone slowly rose from inside.

Adam looked as though he hadn't bathed in ages.

Dirt and mottled dark-brown clots of blood tangled in his hair. A wool coat he'd apparently taken from somewhere was so filthy and black that its original color was impossible to make out. His face was as pale as ever, but now fine wrinkles covered it, making him look old. His eyes were also clouded and gray.

He licked his cracked lips. As if sensing something, he grinned and gave a cruel laugh.

Boom!

Victor kicked open the mansion's front door, sending the dust that had gathered inside billowing through the room.

The house was pitch-black. Victor made no attempt to light an oil lamp or candle. His pupils shone in the darkness like the luminous eyes of a nocturnal cat, and his vision was completely unaffected.

He glanced casually at the corpses scattered around the house, sniffed, and grimaced in disgust.

"You made the right choice."

Adam emerged from the cellar. Moving with surprising ease, he dragged over a high-backed chair and sat in the middle of the first-floor hall. His expression was as relaxed as ever, though his shriveled, wrinkled skin plainly betrayed his poor condition.

"I don't think so," Victor said, making no effort to hide his contempt.

Adam's expression stiffened. Then he smiled slyly. "But you still came, didn't you? You don't have much of a choice."

He gave a self-mocking smile and continued, "That brother of yours—though, of course, I don't know what your relationship is, exactly. The two of you seem to have different powers. He truly surprised me. His strength wounded me for the first time in nearly a thousand years."

Victor stood there in silence.

"But you crave power, don't you? You make no secret of your desire to become stronger. So, if we combine our powers..." Adam's eyes gleamed with an eerie red light as he continued excitedly, "we'll surely be far stronger than him!"

"You're so sure I'll accept this so-called power of yours?" Victor glanced around at the many drained corpses and continued disdainfully, "I've killed hundreds of your servants. That kind of power isn't worth accepting."

In Victor's eyes, gaining the powers of some ordinary vampires would be useless. He had no interest in those laughable half-finished creatures.

"No, no, you're different from them. You'll receive my power—my Source Blood! It'll make you the most terrifying being in the world! Besides—" Adam blinked and stared at Victor strangely as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Why do you think you have the right to choose?" Adam stretched out his hand toward Victor, all five fingers spread wide. The blood-red light in his eyes seemed almost tangible.

Crack, crack!

Victor's knees trembled and twitched, as if under immense pressure. He let out a low growl, but couldn't hold out for long. Thud! He fell heavily to his knees before Adam.

"Hahahahaha! From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were destined to become my servant! You were so careless. My descendants bit you again and again, didn't they? And the final bite I gave you took away your last chance to resist!"

Victor's body shook continuously, as though he were struggling against something.

As Adam spoke, he removed his clothes. Bluish-black veins began to appear across his naked body. With his sharp, black-red nails, he cut open the skin over the left side of his chest.

"Come. Drink my Source Blood and become my most powerful servant. I'll make that bastard who dared to wound me die at his brother's hands! Go avenge me and reclaim everything I've lost—God's glory." Adam spread his arms and tilted his head high.

From the place where his heart lay flowed blood unlike that of other vampires: bright, shimmering crimson Source Blood, exuding a strange, sweet fragrance. It was unusually viscous, like gelatin, and didn't run or drip to the floor.

Victor seemed to be completely under Adam's control. He slowly approached, grabbed Adam by the shoulders, bent down, and sank his teeth into the wound over Adam's heart.

Gulp!

The instant Victor swallowed his first mouthful of Source Blood, his pupils contracted sharply. It was like drinking scalding liquor, sending a sensation that was both searing and intensely stimulating through his nerves. As soon as the blood entered his body, it seemed to seep straight into his flesh and muscles instead of passing through his mouth and into his stomach. Victor felt a blaze erupt in his chest and race wildly through his entire body.

His bones began to crack and pop. Claws sprouted uncontrollably from his fingertips. His messy, long brown-black hair fell to the floor, and the hair covering his body began to shed. Then a glossy new coat grew in its place. His skin repeatedly split and regenerated, the new flesh tougher and stronger than before.

"Enough. Enough," Adam said, clearly running out of strength. But Victor showed no sign of stopping. His body continued to change, and his bones kept shifting and growing inside him.

"Stop! Stop! You—damn you! Stop!"

Roar!

Adam let out a long howl. His body rapidly transformed into the same form he'd taken during his earlier battle with James, and he shoved Victor away with all his might.

The claws on Victor's fingers had grown noticeably thicker and longer. He absentmindedly scratched his head. His old long hair was gone, and the short new hair felt strange to him.

Adam hunched over, panting heavily. His body looked much like the corpses of the humans whose blood he'd drained. He was nowhere near as full and robust as he'd been when he fought James. His bat wings had shrunk, and the bristles on his chest and back had begun to turn gray.

"You! How could you disobey me?"

Victor licked his lips and looked at Adam, still craving more.

James had always believed that vampire bites would make Victor lose his reason, perhaps even turn him into a vampire. He hadn't been wrong. With every bite, Victor had absorbed a little more of the vampires' venom, feeding his savagery and bloodlust. And when he met Adam, he really had felt the influence of Adam's bloodline on him.

But Victor wasn't an ordinary human. The ferocious, savage power of the Sabretooth's genes was strong enough to resist. Even with the bite Adam himself had given Victor, his control over him was no greater than the nagging, persistent thoughts that sometimes cropped up in a person's mind.

In a sudden, fleeting battle, that brief lapse in awareness would be enough. But it wasn't enough to control Victor completely and make him obedient.

Sabretooth never submitted.

"You were right." Victor looked genuinely pleased for once and continued in a low voice, "This power can make me stronger. It's just not enough."

Adam's eyes were completely black, concealing any hint of expression. But his twisted, savage face looked as if he'd been driven beyond the limits of his rage.

"Bastard! Damn you!"

Bang!

Adam lunged at Victor with both claws. The floor of the abandoned mansion exploded into a massive crater, and broken boards flew in every direction.

Thud! Victor stood his ground and caught Adam's claws in both hands. The floor beneath his feet cracked apart, and his legs sank through the wooden boards into the tiles below. The two of them locked claws and struggled against each other.

"You're nowhere near strong enough. Are you still badly hurt, or is it my fault for nearly draining you dry?"

Roar!

A tremendous roar unlike any Victor had ever made burst from his chest, its sound waves bearing down on Adam. Victor's claws pierced deep into Adam's palms. Instinctively, he used the twisting, turning force of the Tiger Form Fist.

Crack! Crack! Victor twisted Adam's arms and shoulders apart like a rope. Adam screamed in pain and thrashed wildly, trying to break free of Victor's grip, but his arms had lost all their strength. Seeing that he couldn't escape and that Victor's gaze was turning ever more dangerous and predatory, Adam could only—Rip!

He tore off his own arms. Blood gushed from both shoulders as he frantically beat his bat wings and flew toward the roof above the hall's staircase. Victor yanked his feet free of the broken floor and leapt after him, bounding up the stairs and using the banister to propel himself upward.

He grabbed Adam by the foot and dragged him down.

Adam let out a couple of piercing howls as Victor swung him in a half-circle and slammed him into the floor, smashing the room into a wreck.

Victor's massive boot crushed Adam's chest bone. He bent down, grabbed Adam's wings with both hands, and tightened his back as he pulled. Adam's wings were torn clean off.

"Don't—don't kill me. I'm still useful. I can help you."

Adam kept mumbling. Now he had no arms or wings, just a naked, helpless stump of a body.

Victor listened as if to the irritating buzz of a mosquito. He tilted his head, moved his foot aside, and picked Adam up by the throat. After looking him up and down in his pitiful state, he couldn't help saying, "James was right. A piece of trash like you had no business calling yourself a god."

He shook his head, grabbed Adam by the hip with his other hand, and held him across his body. At the height of his power, Adam in his true form had been a little taller than Victor, and his broad bat wings had made him look imposing. But now, shrunk down as if he'd lost most of his size, he looked like a lamb about to be devoured by a tiger.

Adam's legs twitched in a few weak struggles. Victor's grip crushed his throat, leaving him unable to speak. He watched as Victor opened his enormous jaws and sank his fangs into Adam's chest.

Gulp, gulp.

Victor swallowed the last of Adam's Source Blood in great mouthfuls. His body continued to transform as a powerful aura rose from him. Adam's pitch-black eyes slowly turned gray-white.

"You don't need to blame yourself too much. To be honest, I was surprised—and deeply impressed—when you brought this up today."

James and President Lincoln stood talking by the banquet hall entrance. After their meeting, the Lincolns had insisted on seeing James and O'Hara off. While the women chatted for a few final moments, the two men stepped aside for one last conversation.

"No, James. I know what my original intentions were." Lincoln glanced down at the tips of his shoes, looking rather dejected, then continued, "From the beginning, I was put in this position to serve the interests of Northern capitalists. And another reason I was determined to fight this war was my hatred of vampires. But as for truly caring about the lives and suffering of the enslaved Black people in the South..."

President Lincoln shook his head and let out a long sigh. "Slavery has been abolished, and the war will soon be over. But the Southern plantation owners can still carry on with their cotton business. Their Black laborers may no longer be slaves under the law, but how much will their lives really change? And what about the Black people working in the factories up North?"

"We nearly wiped out the vampires on the North American continent. That completely stripped the Southern slaveholders of their support, directly or indirectly. We affirmed Black people's freedom under the law and planted the seeds of true equality." James met President Lincoln's eyes, his expression firm, trying to reassure him.

"Flattening a mountain is easier than changing the prejudice in people's hearts. Whatever your intentions were today, history will bear witness and tell people whether your choice was right."

"Hey! By then I'll be nothing but bones and dust! I'll take your advice and leave everything to damn history!" President Lincoln laughed heartily, even swearing. His spirited charisma helped unite the nation's strength to the greatest extent possible in that era.

James took O'Hara by the hand and strolled toward the White House entrance. The Howlett Family carriage was already waiting there.

O'Hara seemed less cheerful than when they'd arrived and looked a little tired. She lowered her long neck, hooked her arm through James's, and leaned against his shoulder.

The two of them suddenly fell silent, a little shy and awkward. It was their first time attending a banquet together like this.

After climbing into the carriage, James turned to gaze at the White House. A voice quietly rose in his heart: Abraham, it won't just be history. I'll bear witness for you, too.

The coachman cracked his whip, and the carriage rolled away.