Are vampires or zombies

Yin Xiu wasn't surprised by Snake Boy Wei's death.

It wasn't personal—the man simply had a face that screamed "career criminal." For triad foot soldiers like him, death was less an accident than a delayed inevitability.

But Ah Hua's claim that a demon had drained his essence? That strained belief.

Since the Anglians brought steam engines and railways to the East, the once-rampant demons had vanished—as if the clanking machinery had shattered their feng shui havens. Even mainland China rarely saw such horrors now, let alone Anglian-ruled Hong Kong. Yin Xiu suspected a vampire instead—those medieval parasites had crossed oceans with their pale masters.

Only the crime scene could reveal the truth.

Yin Xiu followed Ah Hua through the labyrinthine alleys of Guangmingli. Less infamous than the Kowloon Walled City, this slum's tangled pathways still baffled even longtime residents. Yet Ah Hua navigated effortlessly, leading him up creaking staircases to a tenement swarmed by onlookers.

At Snake Boy Wei's doorstep, the crowd parted for Yin Xiu. As Luigi Machinery's senior technician, he commanded respect here—locals often sought his advice beyond repairs.

Inside, a white sheet draped the corpse. Three bored constables chatted nearby, while smokers clustered by the window. Yin Xiu approached a wizened man in a faded bathrobe.

"Uncle Ming. You're here too?"

The man adjusted his round spectacles and lit a cigarette. "Neighbors dragged me over. Demons, they said."

Another elder interjected, "Who else but you, Uncle Ming? The exorcists charge fortunes, and these coppers?" He jerked his chin at the constables. "Useless."

"Please, Uncle Ming! You're from an exorcist lineage!"

Uncle Ming glared. "I sell sticky rice. Find a monk." He turned to leave, but Yin Xiu caught his sleeve.

"Uncle Ming… is this truly demonic?"

The old man yanked back the shroud, exposing a withered arm. Gasps erupted.

"Fresh corpse, drained to husk. No mortal method does this."

"Zombie? Vampire?" someone asked.

"Zombies reek. Hong Kong's feng shui rots any burial ground." Uncle Ming exposed the pale neck. "No bite marks. Vampires prefer foreign blood—too refined for our 'bland' Tangren veins."

"Then what—"

"Fox demon." Smoke curled from his lips. "And likely one that walks human."

The crowd recoiled.

"Where's it hiding?"

"Hiding?" Uncle Ming scoffed. "It'll feast here until sated. Guangmingli's its buffet now."

Yin Xiu's stomach dropped. Slum dwellers couldn't afford exorcists. These were factory drones, dockhands, and dead-end hustlers—no one worth saving.

"Uncle Ming, you must help!"

The old man sighed. "First, rid us of these leeches." He nodded at the constables, who gladly fled. As the crowd dispersed, Yin Xiu pressed a silver dragon coin into an elder's hand.

"For the rites. Or the hunt."

Outside, Ah Hua clung to him. "Brother Xiu… you think it's true? A fox demon?"

"Likely." He rubbed his chin. "But they prefer… sturdy men. Girls are safe."

"Why sturdy men?"

Yin Xiu cleared his throat. "You'll understand when you're older."