"Indeed, you are no ordinary man." Abraham Setrakian looked at Li Ang, his tone markedly more respectful than before. In their world, strength was the most convincing credential; true power naturally commanded its due reverence.
"This is not the time for pleasantries. The battle isn't over yet!" Li Ang strode to the window and peered into the cathedral's courtyard by moonlight. A thin man in a suit stood looking up, meeting his gaze directly.
"Him!" Abraham hissed through clenched teeth, arriving at the window beside him.
Thomas Eichhorst.
In his youth, he had served as an officer in the Nazi German army, deployed to Romania, later overseeing a concentration camp where he was transformed into a Bloodline by the Patriarch. Abraham had been a prisoner in that very camp. Their intertwined enmity spanned nearly a century. Since his transformation, Thomas had served the Patriarch as his manager. The Patriarch's transport from Berlin to New York had been largely orchestrated by him. He was the Bloodline's second-in-command, subordinate only to the Patriarch himself.
The UV trap Li Ang had set in the study was originally intended for him! Unfortunately, Eichhorst proved even more cautious and cunning than anticipated, sending the spawn as scouts first.
"You and I… we will meet again." Eichhorst offered Li Ang a faint, chilling smile. He wore a wig, impeccably coiffed, his face carefully made up, appearing the very picture of a gentleman with barely a trace of the Strigoi about him.
"I think not. You'd be better off staying right here!" Abraham clambered onto the windowsill, ready to leap down and give chase. No logic, no rational judgment—this was hatred etched in blood, bone-deep.
Eichhorst's lips curled again. Suddenly, his mouth opened, his lips splitting into four crocodilian segments. A wave of凶残暴戾 aura washed over them from nearly ten meters away.
Whoosh!
What erupted from his mouth next was not a fleshy tongue, but an invisible sonic wave! And it was ultrasonic, inaudible to human ears. Yet, within a fraction of a second, a deafening buzz filled Li Ang and Abraham's minds. It was as if a tightening band encircled their skulls, an indescribable agony blooming, nearly robbing them of consciousness.
A sound-based Law skill! One of the Patriarch's abilities was controlling Strigoi through sonic waves, which could also be used to attack humans directly. In the original narrative, this was the Patriarch's unique power. Yet in this reality, Eichhorst could unleash it too.
The sonic assault ended as swiftly as it began. A second later, Li Ang and Abraham recovered their senses, but Eichhorst had vanished from below. Their gaze tracked to the distant street, where he now stood over a dozen meters away, turning back to cast them a look of utter disdain. He had escaped. More accurately, he had chosen to withdraw, wary of the unknown threat.
"He is more cunning than the slyest wolf in the darkest forest," Abraham lamented with a sigh. "For decades I've opposed him, yet never found an opportunity to end him."
Li Ang's eyes held a contemplative glint, his voice calm. "There is one person whose help would allow us to eliminate him with the simplest of means."
"Who?"
"Eldritch Palmer."
This name represented a Wall Street business legend in Manhattan, and also an old acquaintance of Abraham's. They had known each other for decades, even once searched for the Light of the Fallen together. Palmer had been frail since childhood. Through decades of effort, he built a heart-of-stone business empire worth billions. Yet all his wealth could not make his paralyzed legs walk again, nor could it buy him life. Thus, nearing his end, he chose to collaborate with Eichhorst, facilitating the Patriarch's arrival from Berlin, hoping to attain immortality through the Patriarch's power. Without his assistance, Eichhorst could never have succeeded in unsealing the Patriarch.
"He has sided with the Patriarch. He would never help us," Abraham shook his head.
"He will."
A plan targeting Eichhorst gradually took shape in Li Ang's mind. If he could eliminate the Patriarch's most loyal lieutenant, surely Quinlan would have to take notice of his name?
...
Two days later, morning. The underground parking garage of the Stoneheart Group headquarters in Manhattan.
Li Ang and Abraham stepped out of a Ford Mustang and entered an elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. The building of black steel and glass stood at the heart of Wall Street; the uppermost level was Palmer's private residence.
They didn't reach the penthouse directly—the elevator automatically stopped three floors down. Two heavily armed black security guards escorted them out.
"Do you gentlemen have an appointment?"
Abraham replied, "Notify your employer that his old friend, Abraham Setrakian, wishes to see him."
"Very well, please wait a moment." Seeing his assured demeanor, the guard decided to radio his supervisor for instructions.
"Bring him up." The reply came swiftly.
One guard re-entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. As the doors opened, they were met by a beautiful white woman with shoulder-length hair, dressed in an elegant, form-fitting business suit that exuded an air of cultivated intelligence. After a moment's thought, Li Ang recognized her as Palmer's personal secretary and lover.
"Abraham, it has been too long. I did not expect you to seek me out voluntarily." Eldritch Palmer appeared exceedingly aged, his face deeply lined, his hair silver-white. Yet unlike Abraham, his hair was meticulously groomed, his suit immaculate. He seemed a dying man unwilling to depart this world, striving to live each remaining day with dignity.
"It is not I who wishes to see you, but him," Abraham said, gesturing to Li Ang.
"And for what purpose have you come to see me, sir?" Palmer spoke from his chair, having not risen to greet them. In truth, he was too frail to stand. The Patriarch had once given him a drop of white blood, briefly restoring his vigor, but with time, his health had slipped away once more.
"To save you." Li Ang extended his hand, and a small glass vial containing a potion materialized in his palm.
"This elixir is an extract refined from the bloodworm's essence. It cannot grant you immortality, but it can ensure you live out your remaining days in health and vitality. More importantly, you need not endure the Patriarch's reprimands, nor submit to Thomas's threats… I will give you the formula. You will control your own destiny!"
Palmer glanced at Abraham, his eyes suddenly blazing with an irrepressible mix of desire and ambition. He knew that Abraham, decades his senior, maintained his robust energy precisely because he possessed a secret formula for deriving power from the bloodworm.
Each of Li Ang's words struck at Palmer's vulnerabilities. His cooperation with the Bloodline had been, from the start, a one-sided fantasy. The Patriarch had never intended to grant him eternal life; even the time-limited white blood was doled out to him drop by grudging drop. Neither the Patriarch nor Thomas treated him as a partner. They treated him as a kept dog! Using the white blood as leverage, they compelled his obedience without offering fitting recompense.
"I assume you do not offer this formula freely. What do you require of me?" Palmer lowered his voice. He was already tempted, desperate for health and life. Moreover, a man of his pride—how could he bear being the Patriarch's dog, ordered about by Eichhorst?
"I want you to help me kill Eichhorst."
"That condition is far too dangerous, immensely so!" Palmer's expression turned grave. Resenting the Patriarch's control was one thing; openly confronting the Bloodline was another entirely.
Li Ang saw his hesitation, even guessed he might be considering betraying them to the Patriarch. But he showed no concern, replying with calm assurance, "Mr. Palmer, I believe you now have no choice but to cooperate with us. You may wish to turn on the television and listen to the New York Security Director's public acknowledgment of your... contribution."
Palmer hastily gestured for his secretary, Coco, to switch on the TV. The news broadcast showed the female Security Director making a statement.
"...We extend our gratitude to Mr. Palmer for his generous donation of the ancient silver tome, the 'Light of the Fallen,' to the Church. We have discovered within it the method to completely eliminate the Blood Patriarch. Within a month at most, we shall win this war!"
"Such methods are hardly honorable!" Palmer's face darkened, already imagining the Patriarch and Eichhorst's reactions to this news.
"This is war!" Li Ang's voice turned icy. "A war of survival, where one side must perish. You should realize that from the moment we stepped into this building, if Eichhorst does not die, we will ensure you accompany us straight to hell."