The Most Useless Third Son

The night rain in Budapest gradually lessened.

Inside a derelict building on the outskirts, on the verge of collapse.

Lake circled the area, but couldn’t find a single trace of a werewolf.

"Huh?"

"Did they move?"

Lake rubbed his chin. His gaze fell upon the dust disturbed on a table not far away, and he blinked.

Katherine, his little cotton jacket, looked up at her daddy. "Did we come to the wrong place?"

Lake shook his head.

He remembered coming here last year. After learning that Emilia’s term was changing this year, he had specifically taken the time to find the hiding place of Lucian and the other werewolves.

After all, werewolves weren’t vampires. Werewolves could move during the day. Since they could move during the day, a thorough search would easily reveal some clues.

For example…

How could people without jobs still be alive and not end up as vagrants?

Selena, standing nearby, sensed the residual aura in the place. "We’re not in the wrong place. There is indeed a werewolf aura here, but it’s very faint. This scent is at least half a year old."

Lake nodded, then looked at his little cotton jacket. "Forget it, let’s go home."

Katherine, his little cotton jacket, let out a surprised "Huh?" "Daddy, aren’t you going to make a forceful entrance?"

Lake glanced around the empty, abandoned surroundings. "If they don’t give me an opportunity, how can I make an entrance? It’s fine, it’s only a few days difference. Early or late, there’s almost no difference."

Katherine blinked. "Really?"

Lake nodded. Suddenly, he thought of something, raised an eyebrow, and walked towards the outside of the building. "If they’re not here, they must be somewhere else."

Michael Corvin.

The descendant of Alexander Corvinus’s third son.

It was strange, really.

As Alexander Corvinus’s third son, who was neither bitten by a bat nor a wolf, he should theoretically have inherited Alexander Corvinus’s immortal genes. But this third son and his descendants were all mortal. Not only could they be killed, but they could also die of old age.

So, what exactly did this third son inherit?

Loneliness?

Or perhaps some so-called recessive gene.

Lake didn’t understand, nor did he intend to. Since the subway shootout had happened, Lucian the werewolf should also be looking for this Michael Corvin tonight.

It was still early. Going to check it out, and perhaps running into them, would be even better.

Michael Corvin was a doctor, living in apartment 510 of the apartment building on 3B Street in Budapest.

It wasn’t far from here, only about a half-hour walk.

Selena frowned and asked, "Is there anything special about this human?"

Lake glanced at Selena. "You guess."

Selena: "…"

His little cotton jacket tugged on Lake’s sleeve. "Daddy, I’m curious too."

Lake looked at his little cotton jacket and briefly spoiled Michael Corvin’s origins.

Selena listened, looking shocked and half-believing.

His little cotton jacket’s eyes, which inherited Lake’s perfect deep blue irises, darted around. "Then, if I bite him and drink his blood, won’t I also be immune to sunlight?"

Lake laughed heartily. "Although that guy is a descendant, his blood is recessive. To be immune to sunlight, Alexander Corvinus’s blood is the most effective. After we’re done here, I’ll go get some blood from him for you."

Katherine said sweetly, "Thank you, Daddy."

Saying this, Katherine winked at Selena, with an expression that suggested she’d share some with her later.

Selena remained half-believing.

After all…

She had never heard of such a thing.

This person…

Was strange.

Selena’s peripheral vision caught sight of Lake, holding a small yellow umbrella, with one hand in his pocket, his suited and booted appearance accentuating his stylish demeanor. She thought this to herself.

Half an hour later.

They arrived at the apartment building where Michael Corvin resided.

Fifth floor.

510.

Selena stepped forward, ready to break down the door.

"Little Cotton Jacket" stopped Selena. "Be polite. Courtesy before combat, that’s what my daddy taught me."

Lake chuckled.

After all, she was his own "Little Cotton Jacket." Look at her, unlike that unfilial son. His "Little Cotton Jacket" remembered every word he said, while that unfilial son, if not for Emilia protecting him, would have been slapped to death long ago.

Knock, knock, knock!

No response to the knocking.

Lake raised his hand and glanced at the time on his wristwatch.

Seven-thirty in the evening.

Poor corporate slave, still not off work?

Lake flicked his right hand, taking out a key that was also prepared last year, connected to Michael Corvin’s door lock. He turned it directly, opening the door and walking in.

The room wasn’t large.

It was in full view.

Whether it was the size of the room or its furnishings, it all proved one thing: this guy, although a doctor, clearly wasn’t doing very well.

After all, doctors were also divided into levels.

If a doctor in China drove a luxury car, patients might complain that he was corrupt and took bribes.

But if it were a doctor in the Federation, and you didn’t drive a luxury car, patients would only think that you were a bad doctor, otherwise, why couldn’t you afford a luxury car?

He turned on the light.

Selena’s peripheral vision caught a photo frame on the table. She picked it up, gazed at the man in the frame, and then looked up. The scene of her fighting werewolves in the subway flashed through her mind. "This person appeared in the subway station; those werewolves were hunting him."

Lake bent down, looking at the bottles of wine in the liquor cabinet in the room, and said without turning his head, "Although this guy is a latent gene carrier, he’s still a descendant of pure blood. After draining his blood, Lucian can evolve into even more powerful werewolves."

For example, werewolves that could truly switch perfectly between human and wolf forms.

Right now, Lucian’s pack of wolves had ugly wolf forms, with no aesthetic appeal whatsoever.

Living in Europe, both vampires and werewolves, Lake’s aesthetic preference leaned towards the vampires and werewolves from the Twilight series.

He wondered about the origin of the vampires and werewolves from that Twilight lineage.

Lake thought to himself, just as every mythology believed they were unique, the Night mythology followed Emilia’s three elders, while the Twilight mythology respected the Volturi royalty.

Emilia had mentioned the Volturi royalty in Europe before, but even though they were all vampires, just like humans are humans, there were still distinctions like skin color.

So…

Emilia and the Volturi royalty didn’t interact much.

Selena put down the photo. "No, I need to go back."

Lake took out a slightly more valuable bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and smiled. "Go back? Who are you planning to tell, Craven?"

Selena stopped in her tracks.

If Lake was telling the truth, then Craven had allied with Lucian. Going back to tell Craven would be no different from walking into a trap.

Selena looked up. "Elder Emilia."

Lake found a glass. "According to your Vampire Council rules, a month before the change of leadership, Emilia had already stepped down in a substantive sense. Currently, Craven is in charge and presiding over affairs."

Besides, Lake had no intention of letting Emilia come down the mountain. After all, he was Emilia’s lover. Some things were better left for men to resolve. Emilia could just wait to take over the territory.

It was only four months a year that Lake could come to accompany Emilia, so he considered this a form of compensation.

Selena frowned.

Just then.

A man with slightly damp hair appeared in the fifth-floor corridor. He looked at the handsome man and beautiful woman in the room with suspicion and fear. "Who are you?"

Michael Corvin’s toes were already preparing to turn him around.

Lake looked up at Michael in the corridor, raised an eyebrow, and lifted his wine glass. "Michael, oh, thank goodness you’re finally back. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Come in quickly, have a drink, and warm yourself up."

A large question mark flashed in Michael’s mind, but under Lake’s familiar and friendly words, he still hesitated before walking into the room. After taking the whiskey Lake offered, he looked at Lake curiously. "Sir, do we know each other?"

Lake smiled slightly. "Of course, you’re Michael Corvin, right?"

Michael nodded.

Lake smiled. "See, if I didn’t know you, how would I know your name? You tell me."

Uh…

Michael felt a bit strange, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. After all, he had just experienced things he had never experienced before.

Those legendary werewolves.

Those ghostly footsteps.

Those…

Michael Corvin’s eyes widened as he saw Selena, whom he had only glimpsed briefly while escaping in the subway.

"You, you, you…"

"Calm down, Michael."

Lake looked at Michael, who was pointing at Selena, and patted his shoulder. "Don’t worry, we’re not here for you. It’s just that the person I’m looking for will come to you, which is why I came to find you. Do you understand what I mean?"

I… don’t understand.

Michael swallowed, feeling like a lamb entering a wolf’s den. He looked at Lake with an expression that was close to tears. "I don’t know you guys. I swear, I didn’t see anything."

Please let me go.

Lake shook his head.

Just then.

Selena suddenly looked up at the ceiling.

"Were…"

"Boom!"

Before Selena could finish her sentence, two upright-walking, incredibly ugly werewolves stomped through the ceiling. With a roar, they prepared to pounce on Michael.

A pair of sharp claws flashed with cold light, seeming to want to tear Lake, who was standing with his back to them, directly in half.

Katherine cried out, "Daddy, be careful!"

"Roar!"

Lake didn’t even bother to turn around. He simply reached his right hand back and formed a Dragon Claw. Instantly, as if with millions in special effects, an incredibly sharp golden dragon claw appeared and descended from the sky. It expanded rapidly, gripping the two werewolves who were still in mid-air.

Ancient martial arts, ancient martial arts.

To achieve mastery in the Dragon Claw Hand, one naturally needed corresponding internal energy cultivation.

Therefore…

It was perfectly reasonable for internal energy to be projected outwards and take the form of a dragon claw!

"Aoo!"

"Pfft!"

"Boom!"