While Li Pu the Old Father was frantically searching for his son, the two mischievous brats were secretly up to their own tricks.
A few artillery shells couldn't possibly harm a natural-born Super Saiyan and a Primarch.
If little Broly had known how to control his Qi and form a wider-range "shield," those shells wouldn't even have pierced the workshop!
Even so, with just a "slight effort" from him, Alf and little Koz within two or three metres were left completely unharmed.
The roar of the barrage, however, was too loud; the flames and collapsing walls terrified Alf.
The husky cowered against his young Master's legs. Fortunately Broly reacted in time, covering Alf's ears with both hands, saving the dog from wetting itself on the spot.
Seeing his lifelong pal so wronged, little Broly got angry and wanted to rush out and "beat down" the bad guys.
It was little Koz who stopped him.
"Broly, I've got a better idea…"
Put males together and, sooner or later, one of them becomes the idea guy.
Even little boys are no exception.
Koz's idea was that they copy Li Pu's tactic: tail the bad guys back to their lair.
"…only by totally 'cool-killing' the worst of them will the rest feel fear."
Yep, this toddler Night Lord still interprets "cool-kill" as "cruelly shoot dead."
So the two kids plus a sled dog quietly hid in the workshop for a while.
And an opportunity soon presented itself.
The "Merciless" Nando was summoned and trotted off to meet the Vampire Elders.
His departure couldn't escape Broly's Qi sense; the boy immediately used Bukūjutsu to fly after him, carrying Koz and the husky Alf.
He brought Koz and Alf because Li Pu wasn't home—big brother Broly felt obliged to look after the little ones.
Only, Broly didn't yet know what his little brother could do.
When he clasped Koz's hand and took off, the latter instantly "cloaked" his big brother in invisibility.
It wasn't optical invisibility, nor hiding from ordinary senses; it was stranger—making them "unmeasurable," unobservable.
It was Koz's innate gift, a side-effect of his potent psychic foresight; no one else could learn it.
With this super-stealth active, Nando ahead couldn't detect the tail, but it also blinded Dad, who was used to sensing their Qi… "He's about to land."
As they flew, little Broly suddenly whispered to Koz.
He'd noticed the Vampire Nando shift posture. Though surprised the guy could fly, Nando's speed was so poor Broly had to throttle his own Bukūjutsu to avoid overshooting.
In fact Nando only flew a short hop: from Hells Kitchen across the Hudson, touching down in Jersey City, minutes from New York.
Right—the New York Vampire council meets not in New York but in New Jersey.
Why would North America's biggest Vampire parliament sit in such "nowhere"?
Officially: clean air, fine estates—only classy "old money" live here.
Really, the Elders chose it because New York keeps drawing Blade to "farm mobs," and, more importantly, because they fear the battle-mages living there.
Those mages are a disgrace to spellcasters!
Whoever heard of a mage whose only proper spell is a portal, popping out to hack people up with conjured Blades?
Brutal!
Vampires are few; pure-bloods even fewer.
All the pure-bloods in the Big Apple wouldn't fill a decent cinema.
A war of attrition against muscle-headed mages is suicide—and even if they won, could they beat the mages' boss, the Sorcerer Supreme?
So New York Vampires uphold the noble tradition of bullying the weak: send hybrids like Deacon or dim-witted pure-bloods like Nando to expand there.
Nando, however, sees it differently.
He thinks the council geezers are blind, offering Dracula no proper welcome yet persecuting the one Vampire who works for real.
"All this must change!"
After landing he smoothed his centuries-out-of-date robe, then followed the "Renfield" guards into the council's manor.
Spotting the luxury cars in the lot—all belonging to Elders—Nando said nothing, but envy burned inside.
Yet before he reached the hall he saw many "people" prostrate outside.
The Vampire Elders knelt forehead-to-floor, trembling, afraid to rise.
Nando stepped closer, glanced inside—and dropped to his knees.
Inside, a bare-chested, mail-clad giant of a Vampire was feasting.
Several human blood-cattle had their necks torn or were ripped limb from limb.
"Damnation! Count's here and nobody warned me!"
Fury flared at the Elders; Nando felt duped, sure they'd set him up.
While he inwardly cursed, Count Dracula looked up, gaze slicing toward the doorway.
The kneeling Vampires shrank under that glance, daring not meet their progenitor's eyes.
But Dracula wasn't looking at them—he stared past, to where two children and a dog had appeared out of thin air.