Under the Wiry Samurai's steady gaze, Wade felt a dryness creep into his mouth.
He was, after all, still a young man with a fire in his belly. He had joined the police force out of necessity, but his heart yearned for something more, free and extraordinary.
Now, face to face with a legendary martial arts master, even the hand on the hilt of his sword trembled with a mixture of excitement and awe.
A pang of bittersweet realization struck him. He, too, was an officer, yet even this revered figure addressed Sergeant Kane with such deference. It was a stark reminder that true respect in this world was earned through strength and accomplishment, not through a badge or a uniform.
Wade shook his head, recalling the image of his boss bathed in blood, seated calmly amidst a field of carnage, emboding the very essence of a warrior. He realized that perhaps the Wiry Samurai's reverence wasn't misplaced.
… …
"You are too kind, Sensei," I replied, returning the bow. I made no attempt to prolong the pleasantries, my focus fixed on the task at hand.
But as I moved forward, the Wiry Samurai led his companion stepped in my path. "Allow me to introduce my colleague from Kongo Shintai Securities," he said, gesturing towards the burly man. "His name is Butcher Garcia, and he has traveled from Seattle to join me. He's also considering employment in Pinewood County."
I nodded in acknowledgment, and Butcher Garcia responded with a curt nod of his own.
"I have official business to attend to," I stated, "so I won't disturb you two any longer."
I attempted to continue on my way, but the Wiry Samurai subtly shifted his position, blocking my path once more.
I met his gaze calmly, understanding his motives.
Everyone had their own aspirations. There was nothing inherently wrong with the Wiry Samurai accepting payment for his services. Had I not been confined by my police uniform, barred from the path of private security firms, I might have pursued a similar career, seeking patronage among the wealthy and influential.
However, if he was being paid to obstruct me, that was a different matter entirely.
"We are all martial artists," the Wiry Samurai said with a chuckle, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "Perhaps we could find a place to share a drink and converse? I'm far older than you, so allow me the liberty of calling myself your elder brother. You're still young, full of youthful vigor. A chat with an old man like me wouldn't hurt."
Wade, standing a few paces behind, shifted his weight uneasily. Even him must have sensed the underlying tension in the air.
Mr. Hightower and the butler remained silent, their expressions guarded. They held little faith in my abilities, but they trusted the Wiry Samurai's judgment even less. Yet, as a mere businessman, Mr. Hightower dared not question a seasoned martial arts expert.
If the authorities could intervene, it would certainly be a welcome development. But he didn't expect The Wiry Samurai to stop me. How could a lowly sergeant cause trouble in front of the county executive's favored expert?
Under the weight of everyone's expectant gazes, I paused for a moment and gently removed his hand from my shoulder. "Thank you for your kind offer, Sensei," I replied, my voice steady. "But I have duties to attend to, so I must respectfully decline."
The atmosphere in the yard instantly froze.
A flicker of embarrassment crossed the Wiry Samurai's eyes, his aged face hardening slightly.
Butcher Garcia turned his head, a mocking smirk hidden beneath his thick beard.
"If I'm not mistaken," the Wiry Samurai's voice turned cold, "Sergeant Kane has recently been promoted to oversee all vamp-related matters in Pinewood County, no longer a member of the homicide unit. I've stated that there are no vamps here, merely a homicide case. The Hightower family has no official business for you to handle. Or perhaps... you don't trust my judgment?"
I glanced at the butler, then calmly reiterated, "Lead the way."
"Ah... yes, of course," the butler stammered, caught in the crossfire of this unexpected power struggle. He dared not involve himself further.
The only thing that surprised him was how a once-disreputable gambler could now stand his ground against the esteemed Wiry Samurai.
And even more baffling, the Wiry Samurai seemed powerless to stop him.
Perhaps, the butler thought with a pang of regret, it would have been wiser for the master to go directly to the police station instead of seeking help from the county... It seemed to have been a futile effort.
The butler's thoughts swirled as he hastily led the way to the side courtyard, his mind buzzing with questions and concerns.
Once the trio disappeared from view, Mr. Hightower turned back to the security specialists, "Esteemed gentlemen, please forgive any offense," he pleaded, his voice laced with anxiety. "Sergeant Kane is simply dedicated to his duties. I hope you won't take it to heart."
The Wiry Samurai's expression remained grim as he followed the butler from afar, a sense of unease lingering in his heart.
Butcher Garcia fell into step beside him, his voice casual yet laced with a hint of mockery. "Yamamoto-san, do you know him?"
"I've never met him before," the Wiry Samurai replied, his tone somber. "I merely sensed a wasted potential. I thought we'd all be working under the county executive, looking out for each other. I never imagined he'd be such a reckless fool."
Butcher Garcia chuckled, his thick beard hiding a sardonic grin. "I see. I thought perhaps you were concerned that he might discover your... hesitation... in the face of the beastvamp, and tarnish your reputation."
The Wiry Samurai stopped abruptly, his face darkening at the thinly veiled insult. After a tense moment, he regained his composure. "You've just arrived from Seattle," he said, his voice low and measured. "You see this as a backwater town. I don't blame you for your arrogance, but remember this: the waters here run deeper than you think."
He continued walking, his tone turning contemplative. "Do you truly believe he's any different? He'll find an excuse to leave, just like us."
Butcher Garcia remained silent, noncommittally.
The butler led me through the manicured gardens, past vibrant blooms and cascading fountains, to a secluded cottage in a small courtyard. Inside, with a somber air, he lifted the white cloth, revealing the grim sight beneath.
With just one glance, Wade's eyes narrowed in disdain, his admiration towards the Wiry Samurai likely shattered. What a talent for blatant lying!
The once powerful Kevin Stone lay on the floor, his body a mangled ruin. His left arm was missing from the elbow down, a gaping hole in his abdomen where his organs should have been. His face was a horrifying mask of bone, the right side completely stripped of flesh, the empty eye sockets staring blankly at the ceiling.
"He was fine just yesterday," the butler whispered, his voice shaking. "And now... this." He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to physically block out the horrific memory. Just a day ago, Kevin Stone had stood before him, a towering figure exuding vitality and assurance. Now, all that remained was a gruesome, disfigured corpse.
"No one saw or heard anything?" Wade asked, his voice hoarse.
A seasoned expert, even when facing a vamp, wouldn't fall silently.
"The one who found him wasn't from the Hightower family," the butler explained, his eyes darting nervously towards me. "When you brought Lady Rose back, after she recovered from her injuries, her temperament remained unchanged, but her memory was fragmented. She couldn't recall many of her relatives."
He hesitated, then continued, "A fortnight ago, she mentioned a friend she'd met outside the city was coming to visit. A young man, in fact. This shouldn't be spoken of lightly. The young lady's reputation..."
Wade and I nodded in understanding.
"The master, feeling sorry for her, and hoping it might help her regain her memory, allowed this young man to stay. They grew close, and we treated him as a guest."
"Kevin Stone's body was discovered in this young man's room... And Miss Rose happened to be away at the time..."
"Master Yamamoto spoke with him, and claims he's innocent..."
The pieces fell into place. The Hightower family had suspected the young man all along. They hadn't sought the Wiry Samurai to find a vamp, but to exterminate one.
"Where is he?" Wade asked.
"Right here," a languid voice answered from the doorway.
A young man in a black shirt leaned against the frame, stretching and yawning. A wide smile revealed two sharp canines, adding a predatory edge to its otherwise charming features.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling on me with an air of arrogance. "You're John Kane, I presume? Where have you been? You're awfully late."
His words dripped with condescension, as if addressing a subordinate.