Kitsune Travel Records

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Samuel sighed in frustration, a wave of weariness washing over him. He turned, striding back towards the table, his binoculars clinking as he placed them down with a thud. His gaze swept over his men, who were helping each other up, tending to the wounded.

Just as he was about to offer assistance, one of his men pointed frantically towards his back.

"Watch out!" a cleaner yelled, his voice strained with fear as he slumped against the wall.

Samuel's eyes widened as he instinctively ducked, twisting to the side. A cold, metallic whisper sliced through the air, mere inches from his neck.

He saw the masked man, his katana poised for another strike.

Samuel reacted instinctively, a powerful kick aimed at the masked man's knee. The masked man's foot shot up, like blue showing how fast it is, blocking Samuel's attack.

The katana descended, a lethal arc of steel. Samuel leaped, using his momentum to launch himself into the air, a whirlwind of movement.

Samuel's other foot connected with the masked man's stomach, a solid impact that sent him reeling backward.

Samuel landed, his breath ragged, on the floor.

He scrambled to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for the pistol at his waist. He spun around, aiming at the masked man, but a swift kick sent the pistol flying across the room.

Samuel barely had time to register the impact before a wave of pain surged through his shoulder, a searing jolt that sent him tumbling sideways.

He rolled, his eyes widening as he saw the woman, her mask identical to the man's, her claws gleaming in the dim light.

The sound of gunfire ripped through the air. Samuel turned, his heart pounding, to see his men firing at the masked man. The katana, a blur of steel, deflected the bullets, sparking with each impact. They wouldn't stand a chance.

Samuel frantically searched the floor for his gun, spotting it a few feet away. He scrambled towards it, his gaze locked on the woman as he saw her lunging towards his men, her claws aimed at their throats.

"No!" he roared, his voice ragged with desperation.

He snatched the pistol, the cold metal comforting in his hand. He fired, the deafening report echoing in the confined space. *Bang* *Bang*

The two shots, hit the woman's shoulder, stopping her attack.

He rose, raising the pistol, his target locked on the woman's head. But before he could fire, a cold, sharp metal pressed against his shoulder, a familiar weight. He knew it was the masked man's katana. His world narrowed, his vision blurring.

'Why isn't he killing me? And when did my men get defeated?' he thought, confused and disoriented. He looked around, his gaze falling on his men, crumpled on the floor, their faces etched with pain.

His eyes landed on the last cleaner, the only one who hadn't fallen, his hand gripping his pistol, his face pale with fear.

"You can go," Samuel said, his voice a cold whisper. "Just let my men go, or I'll make sure there's a hole in that woman's head next." He forced his voice to remain steady, hiding his own fear and desperation. As he took a big gulp. He wouldn't let them die, not like this.

The masked man didn't respond. He simply pulled back his katana, a silent threat.

Samuel felt a sliver of hope. He was about to sigh in relief, but a sharp pain shot through his jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground.

He saw the woman, her face obscured by the mask, her eyes cold and predatory, her hand connecting with the last cleaner's jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. Blackness encroached, swallowing him whole.

The last thought that crossed his mind before he lost consciousness was that he should have killed her, but what he didn't know that it was not meant not to happen as everything that happened, wasn't true.

•-----•-----•-----•-----•

Budapest, Széll Kálmán tér Station

Samuel stood frozen, his body rigid as a statue, his eyes rolled back, showing only stark white. The binoculars, still clutched in his hand, laying still on the table. Around him, his men lay sprawled across the floor, their breaths slow and even, lost in a deep, unnatural slumber.

"Is it done?" Raizo asked, his voice a low rumble from the shadows. He watched Kim Yoo-ri, who had her hand pressed against the back of Samuel's head, her fingers tracing the contours of his skull.

"Shhh, let me focus," Kim Yoo-ri murmured, her eyes closed, her concentration intense. She was delving into Samuel's mind, meticulously altering his memories, weaving a new narrative into his subconscious. Just as she felt she was nearing completion, she opened her other hand, palm up, towards Raizo.

"Just put it somewhere he wouldn't check," Raizo said, his voice devoid of emotion as he placed a small, metallic device into her open palm.

"Then what, risk the tracking device being lost again? No way I'm not doing that," Kim Yoo-ri said, opening her eyes, a glint of defiance in their depths. Showing she got other plans in mind. She closed her hand, the device secure within her grasp.

Then, with a decisive step, she moved in front of Samuel, her gaze unwavering.

"I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen," Kim Yoo-ri murmured, her voice a low whisper. She used her fingertips to gently lift Samuel's chin, forcing his head back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Then, with a swift, precise movement, she forced his mouth open, revealing a cavernous darkness. She dropped the tracking device into his open mouth.

She then forced his mouth shut, her hand pressing firmly against his jaw. She closed her eyes, concentrating, her will commanding his body to swallow.

With a soft click, Samuel gulped. The device was in place.

Kim Yoo-ri opened her eyes, a chilling smile spreading across her lips. Her plan was in motion. With a swift, forceful blow to his jaw, she sent Samuel crashing to the floor with a heavy thud. His eyes fluttered closed, his unconscious body sprawling on the wooden floor.

Kim Yoo-ri turned to Raizo, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "All done," she said, her voice laced with a hint of pride. "I've made sure he won't remember a thing."

Raizo sighed, his gaze fixed on Samuel's unconscious form. "Do you have to be so... forceful?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Is there any chance that he might remember something, even a fragment?"

Kim Yoo-ri's confidence faltered for a moment. She blinked, her eyes darting down to Samuel, her mind racing. She then reached out, her fingers gently brushing against his vest, placing his body in the exact position he had fallen in his manipulated memory.

"Tsk," Kim Yoo-ri clicked her tongue in irritation, tilting her head as her gaze swept over the unconscious Cleaners.

"I think we should just kill these guys, to give him something else to think about, besides his memory," she said, her voice laced with a chilling indifference. Her eyes glowed with an amber light, her pupils narrowing to slits. Her claws extended, gleaming like polished steel.

Raizo swiftly intervened, placing a hand on her shoulder, his touch firm yet gentle.

"No need," he said, his voice low and authoritative. "Since you're so sure, we only need him to go back for a moment. We don't need to kill them." He shook his head, his expression unwavering.

"Then you'll handle them when they remember," Kim Yoo-ri muttered, a playful smirk curving her lips as she turned towards the window and leaped into the night, disappearing into the shadows.

Raizo watched her go, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to the unconscious cleaners.

He pressed a button on the side of his mask, a hidden mechanism that activated a communication device.

"The mission is complete," he said, his voice calm and collected. "We're coming your way."

Raizo then walked towards the shadow and he disappeared into the darkness.

•-----•-----•-----•-----•

Lycan Den.

"Is that so, then come." A voice, deep and chilling, echoed from the shadows.

The den, a bastion of strength for the Lycans, was now a chaotic battleground, the air thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and fear. Gunfire crackled, punctuated by screams of pain and fury.

A Lycan, his form ripped and torn, fought a Murciélago with a ferocity that belied his injuries. The Lycan's strength was formidable, but the Murciélago was a hybrid, its power surpassing even the strongest Lycan. With a vicious twist, the Murciélago ripped the Lycan's arms from his sockets, the sound of bone snapping echoing through the den.

The Lycan, his eyes burning with a primal rage, ignored the pain, lunging forward and clamping his teeth onto the Murciélago's neck.

"KeEa-eEaH!" the Murciélago let out a scream of pain and fury, its voice a chilling blend of rage and animalistic instinct. It clawed at the Lycan, its fingers digging deep into his flesh, tearing and ripping. With a sickening crunch, the Murciélago pulled the Lycan's head from his body, sending it tumbling across the floor.

A Lycan, who had yet to transform, watched the gruesome scene unfold, his face frozen in horror. He trembled, his hand shaking as he clutched a pistol. He fired, two deafening shots, each one aimed at the Murciélago's head.

*Bang* *Bang*

But as the bullet impacted, the Murciélago's body merely flickered, the UV liquid from the bullet seeping out, unable to penetrate its regenerative abilities. Despair filled the Lycan's eyes.

He frantically scrambled for his radio, pressing the button, his voice raw with panic. "Help, we need help!" he shouted into the radio. "There's a vampire attacking the base! We need backup!"

A low growl, chilling and menacing, sounded above him. He slowly raised his head, his heart pounding in his chest. A second Murciélago, its form a silhouette against the ceiling, descended from the shadows.

"KeEaaa-Eah!" the Murciélago screamed, its voice a symphony of hatred and power. The Lycan, his ears ringing with pain, instinctively crouched. He couldn't react fast enough. The Murciélago landed, its claws extended, poised to strike.

"Fu—"

A swift, brutal swipe of the Murciélago's claws severed the Lycan's head from his body. The Lycan's body, lifeless and limp, slumped to the floor. The radio, clutched in his hand, clattered to the ground, the silence of the den broken only by the soft whirring of the Murciélago's wings.

While Marcus with blood dripping from his jaws walked calmly, a predator stalking its prey.

The Lycans, their guns aimed at him, watched with a mixture of fear and begrudging respect as he strode towards the back of the den.

Marcus hand, stained crimson from the unconscious Lycan he was carrying around the throat, before he clenched his hand tightly breaking the Lycan's neck completely as he let go.

The Lycan's body fell onto the ground before turning back into a human, as Marcus continued to walk towards a room, from the Lycan's blood he had drunk.

Marcus had gleaned from the Lycan's memories that Lucian wasn't here, but someone else was.

Someone he was interested in.

He didn't even glance at the Lycans, their presence a mere annoyance. He was sure his creation, unleashed upon this den, would kill them soon enough.

The Lycans held their fire, not out of fear, but out of a calculated strategy. They knew it was better to fight two than three. They watched Marcus enter the room, their eyes fixed on him until the door closed with a heavy thud.

Then, they turned, their attention now on the Murciélagos, who were crawling towards them.

The Lycans knew the UV bullets wouldn't work against the Murciélagos, not against their uncanny regenerative powers.

Now the Lycans knew their only hope was to unleash their primal fury.

They dropped their guns, their eyes burning with a savage intensity. A wave of pain and transformation surged through them, a physical shift that felt both exhilarating and agonizing. Their bones cracked and shifted, their muscles spasmed and rearranged.

The Lycans' bodies writhed and twisted, their clothes shredding and tearing as their forms changed. Spikes of bone erupted from their backs, sharp and jagged.

Their skin hardened, becoming a thick, leathery hide. Their teeth lengthened into fangs, and their eyes glowed with a malevolent red light. Their hands morphed, claws extending, sharp and deadly.

They roared, their voices deep and guttural, echoing with a primal power. They were no longer men, but creatures of the night, born of darkness, fueled by rage.

"RAAAWWRRR!" "KEEAEEEAHH!"

The Lycans' roars echoed through the room, a symphony of rage and defiance. The Murciélagos screeched, their cries sharp and unsettling. Then, the two groups clashed, a whirlwind of claws, teeth, and fangs.

Ten Lycans versus two Murciélagos.

The odds were stacked against them, but even with a numerical advantage, the Lycans knew this fight was far from a sure thing. Those two Murciélagos were a force of nature, their power and speed can't be matched by any Lycan.

The Lycans knew they were facing a desperate struggle, a fight for survival, a fight for their lives.

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END OF CHAPTER

Extra Chapter for 200 Power Stones

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UPCOMING CHAPTERS SPOILERS:

Chapter 83: Lycan Den Part 1, Chapter 84: Lycan Den Part 2, Chapter 85: Division Part 1, Chapter 86: Division Part 2, Chapter 87: Sancta Helena Part 1, Chapter 88: Sancta Helena Part 2, Chapter 89: Sancta Helena Part 3, Chapter 90: Sancta Helena Part 4, Chapter 91: Sancta Helena Last Part, Chapter 92: Going Back, Chapter 93: Meeting Part 1, Chapter 94: Meeting Part 2, Chapter 95: Suspicion s, Chapter 96: The Deal, Chapter 97: Sexual Tension, Chapter 98: Resigning & Joining, Chapter 99: Arrivals, Chapter 100: Introduction, Chapter 101: Information, Chapter 102: Temptations, Chapter 103: A intense bath R18, Chapter 104: Wryness R18, Chapter 105: Mitsuki's Powers, Chapter 106: Getting Ready, Chapter 107: Getting Ready(2), Chapter 108: Corvinus Castle, Chapter 109: Corvinus Castle, Chapter 110: A Hybrids Fall, Chapter 111: I told you so, Chapter 112: It's You, Chapter 113: Continuation, Chapter 114: William's Prison, Chapter 115: William's Prison(2)

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