Zongman: Beginning and Snow under the Rain Escape from Raccoon City

"You can ask Ye Hai when he gets back."

Yukino Yukinoshita sat upright at her desk reading a book. Unlike her older sister, she didn't care about her appearance at all just because she was at home.

"Um……"

"That guy hasn't come back all day."

Yukinoshita twirled a strand of hair hanging by her ear with her fingers, looking somewhat troubled.

"Let me see where he is now~"

Yukinoshita seemed to suddenly remember something and opened an app on her phone.

Chapter 109 Blood Slaves

"You secretly planted a tracking device on Ye Hai?"

Yukino Yukinoshita looked up at her older sister in surprise.

While it's not surprising that Yukino Yukinoshita would do something like this, it's because her sister once installed a tracking device on her as well.

It wasn't until several years later that Yukino Yukinoshita discovered it.

"It wasn't done secretly, I openly put an AirTag on his keychain!"

As she spoke, Yukinoshita Haruno shook her own keychain, which also had an AirTag on it.

"Huh, that's strange..."

Yukino Yukinoshita looked at the screen and said with a bit of confusion.

Yukino Yukinoshita walked over and bent down to check together: "What's wrong? Is Ye Hai in some strange place?"

"The location isn't surprising; it's in a coffee shop."

"But... why is this icon twitching?"

Yukino held up her phone and showed it to Yukino. The small dot representing Ye Hai on the screen was shaking back and forth.

"That's probably because the indoor signal isn't very good."

Yukino Yukinoshita glanced at it and then said.

"is it?"

Yukino tilted her head, looking somewhat confused; she felt like something was off.

……

The morning sunlight streamed through the tattered curtains into the narrow living room, where a faint musty smell and the lingering odor of leftover alcohol filled the air.

On the table was a plate of freshly made fried eggs and rice, with a small bowl of steaming miso soup next to it.

This was the result of the fifty-something-year-old mother's early morning efforts. She was hunched over, with a gentle smile on her face, looking at her son sitting at the table—that drunk man who had accomplished nothing at thirty, Tanaka Ichiro.

Tanaka Ichiro rubbed his hangover head, his eyes were cloudy, and his memory of last night was a blur. He only remembered being bitten by something on the street and his neck was still throbbing.

He looked down at the food on the table, frowned, picked up his chopsticks, and stuffed a fried egg into his mouth.

After chewing a couple of times, his expression suddenly changed—the egg had no taste at all, it was like chewing a lump of wax.

He tried the miso soup again, but it was still bland and tasteless, and he even felt a slight nausea rising in his throat.

"Mom, what did you do with this food? It's awful!"

Tanaka Ichiro suddenly stood up, filled with inexplicable anger, and swept the plates off the table onto the floor.

The plate shattered, rice and fried eggs were scattered all over the floor, and miso soup was splashed on the old tatami mats, leaving behind a mess.

The elderly mother, Tanaka Keiko, was stunned. A look of hurt flashed in her eyes, and her lips trembled slightly.

She raised her son alone all these years, her husband died early, but Tanaka Ichiro never gave her a moment's peace.

She dropped out of university before finishing, changed jobs repeatedly, and eventually ended up spending all her time in izakayas, living off her meager pension.

She looked down at the broken plate on the floor, fighting back tears, and knelt down to silently clean it up, whispering, "Ichiro, I'll make another one, don't be angry..."

"Tsk, forget it!"

Tanaka Ichiro waved his hand impatiently, grabbed his coat, and prepared to go to the izakaya for a few drinks as usual.

He had long been accustomed to his mother's humility and felt no remorse whatsoever.

He pushed open the front door, and sunlight pierced his eyes. Before he could react, a sharp burning pain shot through his exposed skin, as if he were being scorched by flames.

His arms, cheeks, and even neck instantly became red and swollen, with tiny blisters appearing. He screamed in pain and quickly retreated back into the house, collapsing to the ground.

"Ichiro! What's wrong?!"

Huizi rushed over upon hearing the noise and turned pale with fright when she saw the horrifying scars on her son's arm.

She hurriedly rummaged through the cabinet for the first-aid kit, trembling as she took out alcohol and gauze, and knelt beside him, trying to treat his wounds.

"What happened? How did you get injured like this?!"

Tanaka Ichiro was panting heavily, his mind a mess from the pain, but he felt a strange impulse rising from the bottom of his heart.

As his mother approached, he smelled a strange fragrance—not the fragrance of food, but a kind of vibrant scent emanating from her.

His throat was parched as if on fire, and his gaze involuntarily fell on his mother's thin neck, where the faintly visible veins seemed to beckon him.

His reason was struggling, but his body leaned forward uncontrollably, and his teeth suddenly pierced Huizi's neck.

"what--!"

Huizi let out a short gasp, the medicine box fell to the ground, and gauze was scattered all over the floor.

She tried to push her son away, but Tanaka Ichiro's strength was frightening, as if he had become a completely different person.

His teeth dug deep into her skin, and warm blood rushed into his mouth, carrying a strange sweetness that made him feel as if he were on fire.

Tanaka Ichiro greedily sucked on it, and the burning pain in the wound quickly subsided. The blisters on his arm healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, and his skin returned to its original smoothness.

Huizi's struggles gradually weakened, her face turned pale, and her eyes were filled with shock and pain.

She never imagined that her son would turn out like this.

Tanaka Ichiro finally released his grip, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. He stared blankly as his mother collapsed to the ground, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, which was quickly replaced by a bloodthirsty pleasure.

The sunlight outside was still blinding, but the air inside was so cold it was suffocating.

Tanaka Ichiro looked down at his hands; the skin was so smooth it looked as if it had never been injured.

On the ground, Keiko's breathing gradually became weaker.

“What happened…”

Tanaka Ichiro subconsciously reached out and touched his face, only to unexpectedly touch those sharp fangs.

Even the upper lip could no longer completely cover it, and a hint of the tooth tip was faintly visible.

Clearly, a vampire baron who was drinking human blood for the first time did not control himself and unknowingly turned someone into a blood slave.

Generally speaking, blood slaves are controlled by their superiors for life and can never escape.

This is control derived from bloodline.

If there is any resistance, the superior vampire can easily manipulate the bloodline within the vampire's body, causing the vampire to die suddenly.

However, the vampire who turned him into a blood slave might not even be aware of having such a subordinate.

Then this blood slave will enjoy a rare freedom.

Although blood slaves don't have the same superhuman regenerative abilities as vampires, they can still recover quickly from their injuries by consuming enough human blood.

Their senses became acute, especially their sense of smell, which allowed them to smell blood and even sense the life force of nearby creatures.

They also gained speed and strength far exceeding that of ordinary people.

Of course, the blood slaves also inherited the vampires' aversion to sunlight.

It wasn't just disgust; they were terrified.

Prolonged exposure to sunlight will directly lead to the death of blood slaves, until their bodies are completely burned.

Even wearing thick clothes, it's difficult to avoid the damage from the sun.

Only at night can they move around freely.

Chapter 110 Wanted Order

"Inspector Matsumoto, there's something I need to report to you."

Inspector Megure stood in front of Matsumoto Kiyonaga's open office door and knocked on the door of the room next to it.

"Oh, Brother Megure, are your injuries getting any better?"

Matsumoto Kiyonaga looked up at Inspector Megure standing by the door.

"It wasn't a big problem to begin with, but the doctor wouldn't let me take off the elastic bandage. He insisted that I wear it for a while longer, saying it was to stabilize my ribs."

Inspector Megure walked into Matsumoto Kiyonaga's office and said with a hint of helplessness.

"You should listen to the doctors about these things, after all, they are the professionals."

"Tell me, what do you want from me today?"

Matsumoto Kiyonaga put down the materials in his hand, crossed his hands on the table, and looked at Inspector Megure.

Inspector Megure handed several reports to Kiyonaga Matsumoto: "Inspector Matsumoto, there have been several murders in the Chiba area recently."

"According to forensic examination, all the victims died from excessive blood loss."

Matsumoto Kiyonaga took the report handed to him by Inspector Megure, frowned slightly, opened the folder, and quickly scanned the contents of the forensic examination.

He tapped his finger lightly on the paper, signaling Inspector Megure to continue.

Megure cleared his throat and continued, "Inspector Matsumoto, according to the forensic report, all the victims' fatal wounds were concentrated on the neck or wrist. The wounds showed two obvious deep puncture wounds, with minor tears and bruising around the skin."

"The wound looked like a bat bite at first glance, but after the forensic doctors examined it, they clearly pointed out that it could not possibly have been caused by a bat."

Matsumoto Kiyonaga raised his head, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes: "A bat? Tell me why that's impossible?"

Megure paused for a moment, then explained, "The forensic report mentioned that bat bites are usually very small, and their tooth structure means they can only suck out a small amount of blood."

"Common vampire bats, such as the common vampire bat in South America, typically suck about 15 to 30 milliliters of blood at a time, which is equivalent to one or two tablespoons."

"Moreover, they mainly feed on the blood of livestock or wild animals and rarely attack humans."

"Even if there was an attack, the wound would not be nearly that deep, and the amount of blood loss would not be enough to be fatal."

"These victims lost at least 60% of their blood, some even close to 80%, which is completely beyond the physiological capacity of any known bat."

Matsumoto Kiyonaga flipped through the report, his gaze lingering on several close-up photos of the wounds.

In the photo, the victim's neck skin is pale, with two deep stab wounds clearly visible, surrounded by irregular tear marks, as if forcibly pierced by some sharp object.

He frowned and asked, "What other findings did the forensic team make?"

Inspector Megure continued, "The report indicates that the tissue around the wound shows slight necrosis, as if it had been eroded by some kind of toxin or enzyme. The forensic pathologist speculates that the perpetrator may have used some kind of tool to simulate a bite, or..."

He paused, his tone slightly hesitant: "Or perhaps this wasn't done by a human. The depth and angle of the wound indicate extremely strong penetrating power; ordinary knives would hardly achieve this effect."

"Moreover, no obvious signs of struggle were found at any of the crime scenes, and the victims appeared to have offered no resistance when they were attacked."

"Of course, it's also possible that he was subdued with a single blow."

"However, this possibility is not high. After all, some of the victims were young and strong men. There are not many methods that can make them lose their ability to resist instantly without leaving any external marks."

Matsumoto Kiyonaga closed the report, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and pondered for a moment: "Brother Megure, do you have any leads now?"

Megure nodded, took out another document from his briefcase, handed it to Matsumoto Kiyonaga, and continued in a heavy tone, "Inspector Matsumoto, we have indeed discovered a possible suspect—Tanaka Ichiro, 31 years old, a local of Chiba, with no fixed occupation."

Matsumoto Kiyonaga took the document, turned to the first page, and saw a passport photo of Tanaka Ichiro, his eyes unfocused and his face looking somewhat haggard.

He nodded, signaling Inspector Megure to continue.