185: Chapter 185 The Bad Dogs of Budapest

Ten o'clock at night, on the streets of Tokyo.

A group of four had finished their barbecue and were walking home along the dim yellow glow of the streetlights.

Robert walked at the very front, clutching a bill so long it almost dragged on the ground. However, there wasn't a hint of heartache on his face; instead, he was beaming.

"It seems everyone had a great appetite today." Robert glanced back. "Especially Sadako. Being able to eat is a blessing; look how thin you are."

It was more than just "great."

Qin Ming walked in the middle and glanced behind him.

The main combatant tonight was definitely Sadako.

After this girl had forcibly absorbed that violent inner persona into her body, she had also inherited the hunger that the other had suppressed for over a decade.

Just half an hour ago, she had been eating silently by herself, managing to polish off thirty plates of pork belly and twenty servings of thick-cut beef tongue, while clearing out all the premium Wagyu stock in the shop.

The owner's meat-slicing knife was practically smoking from use, and his hands were shaking when he served the final dishes.

At this moment, Sadako was walking at the very back of the group with her head down, her hands twisting together awkwardly. She clearly knew she had eaten far too much.

"Burp..." Sadako let out a tiny burp. Her cheeks instantly turned bright red, and she wished she could find a hole to crawl into.

Back at home.

Qin Ming finished washing up and had just lain down on the bed when the phone on his nightstand suddenly vibrated.

No number was displayed on the screen, only a solid black Gothic icon.

Qin Ming answered the call and pressed the speakerphone button.

"Hello, what's up?" Qin Ming asked, resting his head on his hands.

"We encountered something interesting on the road. I think you'll like it," Wednesday Addams said.

Qin Ming raised an eyebrow. "If you call it interesting, let's hear it."

"We are visiting relatives in Europe. Half an hour ago, on the streets of Budapest, I was attacked by a suicidal bad dog that reeked of the sewers." Wednesday's speaking pace was slow, as if she were stating an extremely boring, objective fact.

"A werewolf?"

"Probably. Covered in black fur, drooling, quite disgusting. I originally wanted to nail it alive to a dissection table to see how its organs were arranged. Unfortunately..." Wednesday paused, sounding a bit regretful, "my father got too excited. He drew his sword and sliced the poor dog into three pieces."

The image of Gomez, that fanatically protective Gothic gentleman, hacking away with a rapier surfaced in Qin Ming's mind. He wasn't surprised at all.

"And then?"

A hint of extremely hidden excitement finally seeped into Wednesday's voice. "I can feel that beneath this city, there are hundreds, thousands more of these bad dogs. They are scurrying through the sewers like rats. This suits you, doesn't it?"

The bad dogs of Budapest.

Qin Ming sat up in bed.

"Fine, I'll head over and take a look now."

"Don't die before I get the chance to kill you myself," Wednesday threw out this blunt greeting.

"Don't worry, I shouldn't die."

Qin Ming hung up the phone.

Without any nonsense, Qin Ming directly opened his Grid Space and changed into that dark-toned Leon combat suit.

He picked up his phone: "Larry."

The screen, filled with static noise, instantly lit up. "Budapest. Lock onto the coordinates and take me there directly."

The next second, a feeling of weightlessness hit him.

When Qin Ming's feet stepped onto solid ground again, a cold wind mixed with heavy moisture and industrial exhaust fumes rushed at him.

He was standing on the edge of an extremely high Gothic tower. The cold drizzle of Budapest beat down mercilessly on Qin Ming's face and clothes.

"Damn weather," Qin Ming muttered, wiping the rain from his face.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. Larry, using the standard voice of a weather forecaster, said intermittently, "The weather... forecast... says... rain... in Budapest."

"I'm already soaked; you can save your hindsight for later," Qin Ming replied coldly.

Just then, Qin Ming's [Danger Perception] radar twitched slightly.

It wasn't a high-risk warning, but rather a pure detection of an alien presence.

He looked up, his gaze piercing through the curtain of rain toward the equally towering building across the street.

On a gargoyle statue extending from the side of that tower, a figure was crouching silently.

It was a woman wearing an extremely tight-fitting black leather suit that outlined her curves perfectly.

Her sharp, short black hair was slightly plastered to her cheeks by the rain.

Her skin was as pale as a cold corpse, without a hint of color, but her blue eyes were filled with cold murderous intent.

Her body exuded an inseparable aura of darkness and blood.

A Vampire.

Qin Ming recognized her immediately.

Selene.

So it was the plotline of 'Underworld'. Qin Ming looked at the female Vampire in the rainy night, his lips curling into an undisguised sneer.

He had always viewed the dark creatures of this world with a sense of mockery. Especially this lot in Budapest.

Vampires didn't practice magic or use blood arts; instead, they ran around spraying submachine guns. Werewolves didn't rely on physical tearing; instead, they played at tactical maneuvers with rifles loaded with UV liquid bullets.

These monsters, who had lived in the night for centuries, had turned a racial war into a gangland street fight. They were truly an embarrassment to supernatural beings.

Selene, on the opposite tower, clearly hadn't noticed Qin Ming's presence.

She stared fixedly at the crowd walking on the street below, locking onto her target.

Immediately after, she leaped down from the gargoyle dozens of meters high.

Her black leather suit snapped in the wind as she fell straight toward the entrance of the subway station below.

The plot had begun.

Qin Ming didn't intend to personally engage in street fighting with a bunch of werewolves carrying assault rifles.

That would be beneath him. Since this was the territory of Vampires and werewolves, he would use a higher form of darkness to teach them the rules.

Qin Ming stood on the edge of the tower, and the shadows beneath his feet suddenly began to boil violently in the rain.

"Dracula," Qin Ming softly called out the name.

As his voice fell, a slender figure slowly rose from the boiling shadows.

The Vampire Count from the world of 'Van Helsing'—Dracula.

Compared to Selene downstairs, who was wearing a tight suit and fighting street battles with guns, the pressure emanating from Dracula was like the abyss itself.

"My Lord."

Dracula stood on the edge of the tower, letting the rain slide off his cloak without getting it wet in the slightest.

He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed slightly, performing an impeccable classical gentleman's salute to Qin Ming.

"Go to the subway station below," Qin Ming pointed to the street. "Inside is a pack of bad dogs calling themselves werewolves, playing house with a bunch of gun-toting Vampires."

Qin Ming turned to look at Dracula, his eyes cold. "Deal with those bad dogs. And while you're at it, teach these Budapest hicks what a true creature of the night is."

"As you wish, my master." Dracula placed his right hand over his heart and performed an impeccable classical bow to Qin Ming.