Heading North (Volume Finale, Two-in-One)

"Seeing you as well as ever puts my mind at ease. These past few years, with the hostility and resentment from both inside and outside, and the shifting of hatred following the civil war, I truly don't know how many times I would have died if not for the fact that I could trust your men."

Abraham Lincoln had been out of the presidency for a few years. Although he had narrowly escaped an assassination attempt after the civil war ended and the South declared surrender—thanks to the protection of Jack, the captain of the family guards sent by James—the four years that followed remained filled with turmoil.

If President Lincoln had died in a post-war assassination by the South, all the negative emotions and conflicts of the war would have been mitigated to the greatest extent. The hatred the Southern plantation slave-owning class held for the Union would have subsided significantly, and the nation's post-civil-war divisions would have been healed to a certain degree.

Lincoln would also have become the most legendary president and a great man in the history of the United States, mourned for being assassinated immediately after victory.

But as a surviving President Lincoln, he had to endure the boundless hatred of the old external asset-owning class and the resistance from within the federal high command regarding his push for post-slavery rights. White people held no affection for him, and Black people were still struggling to survive in a daze.

During his four-year term, Lincoln constantly faced assassinations and accidents, all of which were thwarted by the Howlett Family's private armed forces, arranged by James to protect him and his family in both overt and covert ways.

"Your safety coefficient was actually quite high during your presidency. After all, you were the President of the United States of America; even if some people wanted to act, they couldn't go too far. But once you become a former president, heh, there is nothing you can't imagine, and nothing they wouldn't dare to do."

James sank lazily into the sofa, holding a cigar in one hand and gently swirling an empty wine glass with the other. Daniel, standing beside him, took the opportunity to top him off with some whiskey. Lincoln had hit it off with Daniel immediately upon arriving at the Howlett Estate; the two were not far apart in age and found they could talk about anything.

Lincoln observed James with interest, scratched his graying beard, and said with a chuckle, "So that's why you wrote to me, inviting me to 'stay a while' at your family estate. I brought Mary and the children over immediately; if something had really happened to me, their lives certainly wouldn't have been easy."

"But you, James, you've changed a bit," the former president said with a hint of curiosity.

"Did you get shorter?"

After re-entering the realm of Huajin, James had undergone another bone-refining process. Taking this opportunity, he controlled his body to compress his bones and physique, maintaining a height of just over one meter ninety.

This state required suppressing a certain amount of power; if fully released, he would still become a small giant over two meters thirty, but at least it was much more convenient for daily life.

Although his physique remained burly, it now possessed a more natural aesthetic. He wore his hair longer, and while his temperament was rugged, his features were refined. His canines were slightly sharp, and his face was handsome and masculine, yet carried a strange, exotic beauty.

Once his practice of martial arts improved further, James should be able to truly control the growth and changes of his body structure without needing to self-seal a portion of his strength like this.

"No."

Daniel, sipping his gin from the side, took over the conversation, saying seriously, "Your entire temperament, even your personality, is different. You don't seem so heavy anymore."

James smiled.

"That sounds like a good thing."

Over the course of more than five years, James had finally resolved the hidden danger of the vampire power within his body. He had purged all the vampire source blood, leaving his body clear and transparent. However, some passive enhancements to his physical speed and neural reaction time remained—the result of his body adapting to the evolution.

Fortunately, five years was not too long; he could still spend some time with his friends. O'Hara had stayed with him throughout, and after he recovered, they lived together until she grew old. Perhaps due to the vast difference in their levels of life, they did not leave behind any children.

Butler Vane was getting on in years. He slowly retreated to the old estate to rest, no longer involving himself in the various industries of the Howlett Family. More of these responsibilities were taken over by his son, Casper Vane. Casper was a few years younger than James but appeared much more mature.

Once Mr. Vane no longer had the energy to match his monocle and wear a tuxedo to serve James breakfast, Mr. Casper would take over the duty.

Teacher Daniel did not focus on the affairs of the Howlett Family for too long; he was a man who could not stay idle, his heart always restless.

However, he would never again go to some desolate, barbaric place in misery. He spent several years traveling around Europe, indulging in wine and song, with the Howlett Family footing the bill for the rest of his life.

This included the families of those expedition members who had returned or failed to return; they all received a considerable amount of wealth.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Daniel had a child in his old age, bringing back a charming and considerate wife from France along with a son and a daughter. They settled down in New York and lived very comfortably. He had completely lost the energy to stir up trouble, focusing instead on writing an autobiographical travelogue of his adventures.

Abraham Lincoln lived at the Howlett Estate for several years, spending his time writing works on civil rights and law—jurisprudence had always been his original profession.

James's modern legal concepts also provided him with much inspiration. Under James's suggestion and operation, his two youngest sons changed their names and attended university in New York one after the other.

In his later years, Lincoln hoped to visit his hometown: Hardin County, Kentucky, where he was born; Indiana, where he grew up; and Illinois, where he met and fell in love with Mary and worked for a long time.

James accompanied him to some of these places, observing the reality of various states across America. Finally, Lincoln returned to Washington with Mary, saying he wanted to die with the dignity befitting a former president, even if it meant dying by assassination.

In the end, the 16th President of the United States, the man who ended the American Civil War and freed the slaves, Abraham Lincoln, passed away peacefully in his home.

As for the Howlett family, not long after the return of their patriarch James, they broke through the final technical hurdles of the gasoline internal combustion engine. In the late 19th century, the world of human industrial capital began a cataclysmic, earth-shattering transformation.

While sailing the Mediterranean on a new type of internal combustion engine ship from Athens, James suddenly felt a sense of bewilderment; it seemed this moment was infinitely close to the modern life he had once experienced.

It took only three days to travel from the Port of Piraeus to the Port of Alexandria in Cairo, and these three days allowed for a full view of the unique scenery of the Mediterranean.

Over these years, he had long grown weary of the academic atmosphere of Europe's so-called prestigious historical universities, which reminded him of the insular and self-important martial arts sects.

The oldest, Oxford, looked down on all other emerging universities and schools, and its entrance screening process was maddeningly complex. It took James quite a bit of effort to manufacture a suitable British aristocratic identity to gain admission.

Meanwhile, institutions like Cambridge, Munich in Germany, Karolinska in Stockholm, and the youngest, ETH Zurich, each held onto their own dominant disciplines, guarding against other colleges while spending their days engaged in endless academic bickering.

Consequently, he had to change his identity every two or three years just to blend into a new college, which truly annoyed James. Sometimes, he would even mix up the names he used to hide his identity.

Fortunately, these dozen or so years of academic travel in Europe were finally coming to an end. His body was itching intensely now, and he desperately needed to stretch his muscles.

Once he reached Cairo, he would head south, take in the sights of Egypt, research some myths or history that might actually be real, and then travel to the region between Kenya and Uganda to find an indigenous tribe that had been hiding for a thousand years, hoping they would have something interesting to show.

Helwan was very close to Cairo and was known as the second-largest city in Egypt, but James no longer held much hope for this ancient country that once possessed one of the most magnificent civilizations in human history.

Aside from various historical monuments and the pharaohs' pyramids, there was nothing that interested James. The dilapidated houses and the numb expressions of the people left him with nothing but sighs for this country that had been reduced to a colony.

He did not stay long in Helwan. After checking the map, he decided to make a dash for Sudan. At his current speed, it would only take him two or three days to travel south, much faster than any of the fastest transportation tools available here.

Not long after he set out, having run only about a hundred kilometers, James suddenly felt a flicker in his mind.

Over the years, his beast-like perception had never had a sudden flash of intuition; after all, this ability was more sensitive to things that posed a threat to him. But the feeling at this moment was different. It wasn't a sense of crisis, but rather a sense of... curiosity.

James wandered around the town called Wasitai. The town was very lively at the moment, as a traveling variety troupe had arrived. Aside from not having many animals or beasts like a circus, it featured more strange skills and exotic "sights."

Sword swallowing, fire eating, contortionism, dwarves, giants, four-legged...

He shook his head in boredom; they were all old, low-level tricks and freak shows.

"Devils from hell! Living, breathing devils! This is surely a scene you will never forget for the rest of your lives."

The owner of the traveling circus shouted with all his might, seemingly sensing that if he didn't trot out some "heavy artillery," this rather poor town might not yield many copper coins. He pushed out a cage wrapped in many iron balls at the bottom, covered on the outside by a curtain painted with a red-skinned, long-tailed demon. The demon's face was hideous, with sharp teeth and a long tongue.

The painting is actually not bad, James muttered to himself.

Swish!

Seeing that the suspense had been built up enough, the owner whipped away the curtain. After a long moment, a wave of mocking laughter erupted from the crowd. The cage was completely empty, with only a few shackles swaying tremulously.

James turned to leave. Behind him, the circus owner was hurriedly shouting at the other performers and lackeys, seemingly intent on catching something. James grinned, thinking it was probably just an animal like a mountain monkey, dressed up with the gimmick of being a "devil."

As he reached the edge of town, James looked left and right, then took out a map to compare and fix his direction.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end. He squinted, quickly locking onto a half-hidden barn that looked like it had been abandoned for a long time.

Puff.

James clearly heard a strange, muffled sound outside the barn door. He slowly pushed the door open and entered. The barn was empty, with only a few broken baskets and rakes leaning crookedly in the corner. He suddenly looked up and caught a glimpse of a dark red shadow that vanished with a "puff."

His senses caught the landing spot of the figure, and his gaze quickly followed. The small red figure seemed not to understand why it was always being tracked, flickering and changing positions repeatedly, each time accompanied by a slight muffled sound and wisps of black smoke.

James swayed, leaping onto the roof beam on the right. His speed was even faster than the red figure. He rested his left hand lightly on the beam, grabbed a thin, dry arm with his right, and dropped down.

It was a "child" with blood-red skin, a large head, and a body so thin it lacked even a shred of meat, creating an exaggerated proportion. He had black eyes and black hair, long, sharp, yellowish nails, a piece of brownish-black linen rag wrapped around his waist, and a thin tail flicking behind him.

"Hiss! Ha!"

The "child" wailed incessantly, his body trembling constantly as if he were about to vanish from James's grasp at any moment, yet he seemed held back by something. Black smoke poured crazily from his body, and before long, he was too tired to struggle. His face looked pitiful, his large eyes brimming with tears that swirled around.

"Hey, don't be afraid. It's okay, I won't do anything to you," James said, softly comforting the poor little thing. He slowly loosened his grip and said gently, "Look, I'm letting go. It's alright. Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?"

Whether it was James's soothing tone or the fact that the child had exhausted his strength, he didn't flicker away again. Instead, he nimbly crawled on all fours to a broken basket in the corner of the room. Exposing his large head, he blinked his eyes, staring at the oil-paper parcel James pulled from his chest.

"This is food. Smell it, it's delicious." James took out the wrapped meat pie and broke it open. The savory aroma made the child sniff with his little nose. He looked at the food James held out in disbelief, tentatively reaching out a dirty little red hand.

"Mm... munch, munch."

Watching him bury his head in the food, James smiled happily. He handed over the remaining half and asked softly, "Can you talk? Can you understand me? What is your name?"

"Azazel, Azazel-zel."

"Azazel... hmm." James frowned as if thinking about something, then whispered to himself, "Sounds like Hebrew; it should be Azazel. Azazel, a term for a devil. That's not a very good name, but... it fits."

Over the years, James had mastered many languages in order to read the historical records of various peoples and civilizations.

The child who called himself Azazel had finished the entire pie in a flash. His thin neck seemed to choke, and he stretched his head, patting his chest wildly and making squeaking, mumbling sounds.

James naturally reached out and rubbed his back, and the food the little guy was choking on went down. He took out a water skin and handed it to him, feeling that the child felt like a skeleton covered in a layer of dry, thin skin.

He looked closely at the dense, blue-black whip marks all over Azazel's body, and his expression turned cold.

Full and satisfied, Azazel suddenly felt at a loss, like a panicked, frightened little beast, subconsciously grabbing some tattered woven material in the basket to cover his small body.

James inexplicably understood, realizing what the child was afraid of. He smiled and said, "Don't worry, don't be afraid. Look."

He extended his right arm, pulled his sleeve up a bit, and slowly released three ferocious, long bone claws and an arm shield. Azazel's eyes lit up as he stared intently at the bones growing from the arm, not blinking once.

He tentatively reached out a hand, his fingertips lightly touching the sharp claws, then grew bolder and stroked the bone shield, his tail wagging in excitement while he made suppressed chirping sounds.

James extended his left hand, opening his palm to Azazel, watching as the red, ugly child slowly placed his hand upon it.

"Check over here, hurry! Useless lot, can't do anything right, can't even find a thing!"

"Boss! Look, this guy, he..." A circus lackey looked at the tall man emerging from the barn. The man had something wrapped in his cloak, and a thin red streak had just slipped inside.

The circus owner looked at the man holding the infant-like creature and roared in a hostile tone, "What are you holding? Show it to us!"

James seemed not to hear the owner's shouting or the circus troupe gradually closing in. Azazel in his arms was trembling incessantly, his little hands clutching James's chest tightly.

"Are they the ones?" James whispered easily.

"Hit, Azazel, them."

James tugged at the corner of his mouth, smiling at Azazel, "Close your eyes, cover your ears, be a good boy."

Azazel obediently covered his ears, burying his head inward.

James walked forward leisurely, casually pushing his palms into the air and flicking his fingers. The members of the circus troupe collapsed to the ground, their heads and chests bursting with a series of pops.

After entering the realm of Huajin, James had gained the ability to project his internal power through the air. He hadn't mastered the mystery of this technique; he simply relied on his vast, abundant blood-energy to force it out. Within ten paces, it was akin to an energy projection.

He carried Azazel out of the town gate and asked curiously, "Is that your only name, Azazel? What is your surname?"

"Surname?" Azazel hesitated. He didn't know what that was—was it something to eat? He habitually chirped "Azazel" twice.

"From now on, your surname will be Howlett. Azazel Howlett."

The Egyptian wind and sand kicked up, quickly obscuring the view. James's back faded away on the road heading north.

Volume One ends. Next volume: The War Years.