Chapter Ten: Learning from Each Other

After giving a brief introduction of himself, Van Helsing didn’t bother to ask about Blade’s background. He didn’t care. He looked up at Blade and said, “Young man, I have a request—teach me how to use the firearms of your era. I don’t want to become an old relic left behind by the times.”

Blade nodded. Whether Van Helsing spoke the truth or not didn’t matter; as long as he was someone who fought against vampires, Blade was willing to help.

“Hahaha, straightforward!” Van Helsing clapped Blade on the shoulder, making him stagger slightly. “I won’t let your lessons go unrewarded. I have a few tricks of my own. Let’s trade skills. But honestly, as a half-vampire, your physique isn’t that great.”

Blade tensed up instantly. Now that Van Helsing had seen through him, he worried about his own identity, especially since his own bloodline was connected to vampires.

“No need to be nervous. I’ve had plenty of half-blood friends in the past. Monster hunters—well, to most outsiders, we’re monsters ourselves,” Van Helsing explained.

The next day, in an underground shooting range, Blade stood with his mouth agape, at a loss for words.

He watched in astonishment as Van Helsing, in just two hours, mastered several types of firearms Blade had brought, and his marksmanship soared from missing targets entirely to hitting bullseye after bullseye with every shot.

“Hm, using these is simpler than I imagined. As long as you factor in environmental influences and counteract the recoil, you can pretty much shoot wherever you aim,” Van Helsing murmured, setting down the gun.

The more Blade listened, the more his worldview began to crumble. This so-called “old relic” was terrifying—if nothing else, he was a natural-born marksman.

“No need for amazement,” Van Helsing reassured him, patting his shoulder. “Routine stuff. In my day, you couldn’t become a monster hunter without a bit of talent. Many of my old friends were just as gifted.”

“All right, your turn. I’ve practiced enough for now,” Van Helsing continued.

Blade exhaled deeply, nerves tightening. He dreaded disappointing Van Helsing—he was no prodigy, after all.

“I’m about to lead you into the realm of hunters. But before that, you must promise me something,” Van Helsing’s expression grew solemn. “Once you set foot on this path, there’s no turning back. I don’t care about your personal life—there are plenty more chaotic than yours. But if I ever find out you’re colluding with man-eating monsters and turning your gun against humanity, I will kill you myself.”

Blade nodded solemnly and raised his right hand in oath. “I promise!”

“Good! I’ll trust you for now.” Van Helsing withdrew a dazzling gemstone from his pocket.

“This belonged to a former companion—Sur, a Siberian bear. He never left my side after I entered the Ark, not until death took him. Now, I’ll use this to open the path for you. I hope you won’t make me regret it—or let him down.”

Blade’s gaze was utterly captivated by the gemstone. It seemed to possess some kind of magic, making it impossible for him to look away.

The next instant, Van Helsing pressed the gem directly against Blade’s chest. Arcane energy surged from his palm, breaking through the barrier of Blade’s skin. Once a conduit was opened, the gem merged into his body.

Heat—intense heat! That was Blade’s first sensation as the gemstone entered him. He felt as if he’d been thrown into a pressure cooker, every fluid in his body boiling.

The gem, now inside, transformed into pure energy, rampaging through his veins. Wounds began tearing open all over his body—even a gaping hole appeared in his heart. Fortunately, his half-vampire regenerative abilities weren’t suppressed, and these wounds, fatal to ordinary people, healed rapidly on their own.

After the burning heat came a searing pain, flooding Blade’s mind and lasting an eternity. He clenched his teeth and endured. What was a little pain? He’d felt worse the day he was born.

Van Helsing watched Blade, eyes closed in agony, with satisfaction. Normally, a magic gemstone would never be used this way; it required various herbs to temper its wild power, along with rituals and protective arrays to guide the energy safely into a person’s body. But resources were scarce, and given Blade’s half-vampire resilience, he was unlikely to die, so there was no need for such precautions.

Time ticked by. After an hour, Blade collapsed to the ground, spent from the pain. But the reward matched his endurance—the remaining magic had now fused with his blood.

Under the influence of the magic, Blade’s body rapidly swelled, growing a size larger in an instant. This was the strength of the Siberian bear.

Hearing the commotion, Van Helsing hurried over. He ran his hands over Blade’s now-bulkier frame and, satisfied there were no major problems, slapped his thickened arm. “Get up. Take some time to adapt to your new body. Once you’ve settled, I’ll teach you the rest.”

“Yes, teacher,” Blade replied, switching his form of address immediately. “Teacher, do you have any plans for the near future? Do you want to learn about computers? I can arrange for someone to teach you.”

Van Helsing glanced at him, neither acknowledging nor denying the title of teacher. “No need. Just tell me everything you know about the vampires’ strongholds. With Dracula’s arrogance, a harsh word won’t faze him. I’ll have to hurt him to get his attention. I want to see if he’s stronger or weaker than he was before.”

“But, teacher, you...” Blade started to protest. Yesterday, Van Helsing had said he was only a marquis now, while Dracula was a prince—two ranks above.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to die before Dracula does. I just want to see how much he can tolerate, and how much your society is able to restrain him,” Van Helsing’s eyes gleamed with cunning.

“A hundred years ago, if five viscounts had been killed, he would have retaliated immediately. Now, there’s not a peep from him—that means some force is holding him back. I want to see just how much he’s willing to endure after a century.”

“I do know a bit. S.H.I.E.L.D. is suppressing the vampires, but they keep compromising—strangely and inexplicably so. It’s frustrating,” Blade replied.

“Suppressing? Hah! Just political maneuvering. That sort of trickery existed even a hundred years ago,” Van Helsing scoffed.

Blade fell silent. He didn’t really understand such matters, but he knew those agents could not be trusted.