Vivian was about to call it a day and head home when she suddenly heard some news that concerned her deeply. Her curiosity piqued, she stared at Casa Eben intently: "I haven't been out and about for over a hundred years... What happened?"
"I don't know the specifics." Since the two sides had already given up fighting, and Vivian, the "senior" with the upper hand, had also offered to withdraw, Casa Eben's cooperation was noticeably greater. "Things started changing over a hundred to two hundred years ago. First, a group of sirens' descendants braved the clutches of demon hunters and came to land. They claimed to have received some revelation in the deep sea and sought to gather the power their race had lost at the end of the mythical age. You all know about plate tectonics, right? Because of these geological events, some of the sirens' territories from the late mythical age have now become coastal lands, where sirens' remains can be found. Those creatures from the water invaded coastal cities across Asia, Europe, and America in large numbers, even causing panic in the Church. They thought the aliens were about to launch a counterattack from the sea." "Sirens... I know. They seem to be the least affected by witchers. They live in the deep sea all day, and witchers can't wipe them out," Vivian said thoughtfully. "Sirens are very reclusive and rarely communicate with the outside world. During the mythological era, they rarely came ashore en masse. They can be said to be the most insensitive to changes in the outside world. What happened to the Sirens later?"
"Oh, some were sold to American estates and black factories in Europe, some were killed by witchers, some encountered the Civil War when they landed on the Mississippi River, a small number retreated to the deep sea, and the rest were basically taken in by humans."
Kevin: "..."
Vivian was stunned for a moment, then let out a long "Oh." "Oh, that fits those people who are out of touch with reality."
"Sirens are always like this. They can always return to the water, so they have a lazy and casual personality. They basically can't succeed in anything, but they have never truly failed," Eun Eben interjected. "However, the news the sirens brought from the deep quickly spread to several major families, and many families began to gather members or relics around the world. As you saw, the Eben family even began searching for scattered werewolves in Asia. In some places, there have even been direct clashes between the aliens and demon hunters, something that has rarely happened in the past thousand years."
"Just because they brought back some vague information from the deep sea, you're making such a big fuss?"
"There must be more than just this little bit of information. The family elders are not stupid. They must know more," Eun Eben snorted. "But those things are beyond the comprehension of us youngsters. If you're interested, you can ask your old friends. After all, you're one of the oldest vampires, so I should call you... Well, you finally decided to let us go, I won't do anything stupid."
"Looks like it's time to find out some information," Vivian said, lowering her head thoughtfully. "I've been muddling through these years, and I didn't expect the outside world to have changed so much... Oh, humanity has also regressed, and the whole world is peaceful." Kevin listened to the conversation between Vivian and the two werewolves, feeling a surge of conspiracy. He quickly scratched the goosebumps on his arms and forced himself to remain calm. Just then, he noticed Lily, idly studying a button nearby, and remembered something he needed to inquire about. "By the way, you two are legitimate werewolves, right? I want to ask you something."
Casa Eben gave Kevin a curious look. He still hadn't figured out the origins of this "ordinary person" who associated with vampires and possessed some strange abilities, but seeing how well he could blend in with werewolves and vampires, he decided to consider him one of the "outliers." He suspected Kevin was a middleman, a wizard or something.
"Among you werewolves...are there any Huskies?" Kevin asked earnestly. "Just like dogs branched out from wolves, could Huskies and Pekingeses branch out from werewolves?"
When Kevin finished speaking, silence fell. Eun Eben stood stunned for a few seconds before finally leaping to his feet. "A gentleman deserves death, not humiliation! It's one thing for you to hit someone, but now you're making it clear you're up to no good... Countess, hold your hand! I want to challenge this man in a duel!"
Kevin leaped two meters away. Gripping the data terminal, he made a flying brick gesture. "Put your claws back! I'm just asking. Are there really no Huskies among werewolves?"
Lily, hearing someone finally bring up her story, quickly approached with anticipation. Vivian also cast a searching gaze at the two werewolves. Kasa and Eun were stunned. They hadn't expected such an insulting question to be taken seriously. Kasa Eben thought for a moment and shook his head firmly, "I've never heard of it. Werewolves and wolves are clearly not the same thing. It's fine that you raise that question, but how come, Countess... as the oldest vampire, you don't even know that?"
"I don't know," Vivian shook her head. "I don't even know when my name was passed down."
Kasa Eben recalled the baffling entries in the family records and finally understood more clearly what "the strangest vampire Countess" meant. He then reiterated that there was absolutely no such thing as a husky branch of the werewolf community.
Lily immediately crouched down in dejection, digging in the ground with her paws to vent her frustration. Kevin quickly squatted beside her to offer comfort. Kasa Eben glanced curiously at this seemingly mentally disturbed "fellow of the same clan." "What's wrong with her?"
Kevin looked up and chuckled. "It's nothing, just the normal pains of worldbuilding."
"...not really normal," Eun Eben muttered, pulling Kasa Eben with him as he prepared to leave. "Is everything alright? Are we really leaving then? Don't regret it..."
Vivian waved her hands vigorously at the two werewolves to get out, but just as they took a few steps, a strange smell suddenly wafted over from nowhere.
"Click, click," a few soft mechanical sounds echoed from nearby, followed by a flat, almost emotionless voice from the warehouse roof: "No need to leave, everyone stay."
Kevin looked up in surprise and saw a plain-looking middle-aged man standing on the roof, looking down at them. The man was about forty years old, with a plain face and meticulously combed hair. He wore a well-tailored business suit. He looked like an average office worker, the kind of guy over forty, with a successful career, working his way up to lower-level management at a private company. This was Kevin's first impression of the middle-aged man.
The only incongruous thing about him was the strange, iron-gray crossbow he carried. Its peculiar design, with its intricate structure and intricate patterns, was utterly incongruous with his suit. It was pointed at Kasar Eben's forehead (after all, he was the biggest, after all), the tip of the arrow gleaming with an unusually bright silver-white light.
Kevin finally remembered where he'd seen a similar weapon before: the half-baked demon hunter named Nangong seemed to have a crossbow of this very shape! "Witchers!?" Kasa Eben exclaimed, instinctively taking two steps back. As he shouted, subtle noises emanated from the surrounding factory rooftops. Six or seven expressionless men and women in long black trench coats emerged from nearby rooftops and walls.
Aside from the first middle-aged man who appeared, seemingly the leader, dressed in casual clothes, all the witchers were dressed identically: a long black trench coat lined with a leather jacket, an iron belt festooned with strange tools, and a bizarrely shaped small hand crossbow in each hand and a large crossbow, over a meter long, slung across their backs. And the most consistent thing about them all was their impassive expression.
Like hunters observing their prey, they regarded Kevin and the others with a "working" attitude.
They were indeed witchers, and this time, the real deal.