Using the MC system to pretend spiritual revival

Chapter 227 Internal Strife and Schemes

While old Paul was still lost in his worries, staring blankly at the now-darkened computer screen...

"boom--!"

A loud bang was heard as the office door was forcefully pushed open.

Old Paul, still lost in thought behind his desk, was startled by the sudden noise, causing his hand to tremble and the coffee cup he was holding to tilt immediately.

A large portion of a glass of murky brown liquid was poured directly onto his pants.

Fortunately, after sitting there in a daze for so long, the scalding liquid had cooled down completely, preventing a tragedy.

"Captain! Something terrible has happened! The Foundation and the Werewolf Brotherhood are fighting on board! We... um..."

The young soldier rushed in, his voice filled with anxiety, but he stopped abruptly before he could finish speaking.

He looked at his boss in the room, who was standing up with an empty coffee cup, his face so gloomy it could drip water, and his expression froze instantly.

My gaze lingered involuntarily on the wet patch on the other person's crotch.

Then, a smile that looked more like a grimace slowly spread across his face.

"...Um, if there's nothing else, sir, I'll be going now..."

As he spoke, he quietly backed away, intending to slowly close the door and pretend nothing had happened.

But as soon as he turned around, he was stopped by a roar.

"Stop right there—!!"

"call……"

Seeing his subordinate frozen in place in a comical pose, old Paul closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to suppress his irritation.

It took him quite a while to open his eyes.

His eyes were full of exhaustion. He beckoned to the soldier: "...Come here, tell me in detail what happened."

"...Yes, sir!"

……

By this time, the ship's mess hall was in complete chaos.

"boom--!!"

A huge black shadow suddenly flew backward and crashed heavily into the metal wall where the plates were piled up.

The steel wall was dented from the impact, and pots, pans, knives, and forks were scattered all over the floor, making a jarring clanging sound.

Inside the spacious ship's dining room, designed to suit the national conditions, people, whether staff or soldiers, huddled in fear in corners or under tables.

They stared in horror at the inhuman figures locked in combat in the center.

“You filthy bug, I remember your name is…Quick, right?”

“You are being far too rude to this lady.”

Harold Smith, dressed in a purple suit, with his hair meticulously styled and speaking in a gentle tone, looked just like a medieval gentleman or nobleman.

As he spoke, he gracefully withdrew his hand, and after a slight attack from his fingertips, the remaining crimson mist slowly dissipated.

"...Ugh!...Roar—!"

A roar, like that of a wild beast, exploded, making one's eardrums ache.

Under everyone's gaze, the dark figure that had just been sent flying by a single blow, smashing tableware along the way, appeared.

It was letting out a low, beast-like growl as it slowly rose from the ground.

He stretched out his limbs, his thick, black hair gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen under the light.

Beneath its tall, muscular body, its head almost brushed against the restaurant ceiling when it stood upright.

It cast a menacing shadow directly upon the area.

Quake the werewolf was the Brotherhood leader who was on board this time.

At this moment, his large, ferocious wolf eyes only reflected the purple figure not far away.

And when the other person slightly raised their chin, their blood-red eyes were full of contempt and arrogance.

Thinking of the sudden attack from his opponent, Quake lowered his claws, looked at the hideous wound on his chest that was rapidly healing, and could no longer suppress his anger.

When he looked up again, his wolf eyes were bloodshot, and he roared fiercely at the person standing in the center of the field.

Its massive body, nearly three meters tall, suddenly accelerated, whistling through the air, and pounced in an instant.

"...Roar! You meddlesome bloodsucking reptile! Die!!"

Those bulging muscles bring terrifying explosive power.

To onlookers, all they could see was a dark shadow flash by, and almost instantly it was right in front of them.

But at that moment, everything in Smith's vision quietly turned into a blood-red mess.

The werewolf charged forward, its movements instantly appearing as if in comical slow motion.

The gaping maw as it ran, and the spittle flying everywhere, were clearly visible.

Smith felt the power within his body, several times stronger than before his advancement, swirling lightly around him.

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, forming a mocking arc.

The figure standing in the center of the restaurant vanished from everyone's sight in the next instant.

Even Quake, who was charging in like a truck with tremendous force, suddenly felt a moment of confusion.

He landed on all fours, sparking as he scraped against the metal floor, barely managing to steady his charging body.

Standing still, it crouched down warily, letting out low growls like a wild beast, its head turning around, searching.

All that could be seen were ordinary people hiding in the corner, and the other side of the incident, the Foundation team, gathered warily on the side.

Seeing the werewolf go berserk, they cautiously retreated further away.

Several seconds passed, and Quake, who had pushed his animalistic instincts to the limit, still couldn't find any trace of the vampire.

The anxiety already caused by the transformation became even more difficult to suppress.

He abruptly turned his head, his crimson wolf eyes fixed on the Foundation team, who then retreated to the side.

It tilted its head back and let out a low growl that was a mixture of wolf howls and human language.

"...Uh...Hurry! Gather!!"

Wait until the roar spread.

Outside the restaurant, a series of distant wolf howls immediately echoed, as if in response.

Immediately, the sound of running footsteps echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the screeching sound of fingernails scraping against metal.

The sound sent a chill down the spines of the people trapped inside the restaurant.

Quake, already seething with rage, paid no heed to the opinions of those around him.

It simply maintained its oppressive, beastly gaze, and strode forward with its sharp, gleaming claws.

Step by step, with heavy echoes, they approached the small team dressed in various styles.

"...Looks like that guy got away, and you've lost your helper too..."

The giant black wolf, its ferocious beast head cracked open with a human-like sneer.

It raised its massive, sharp claws and pointed them at the purple-haired woman, who was surrounded by a group of people and wore a deep purple robe and a pointed hat.

"...Now, you only have two choices: hand her over to me, or have some fun with my brothers..."

Before the words were even finished, it was as if it were a response to the meaning behind them.

The sturdy restaurant door was torn to shreds by several gleaming claws amidst a mournful sound of metal snapping and twisting.

Then a dozen or so black werewolves, slightly smaller in size but still enormous and ferocious, filed in, howling and wailing.

They gathered directly around Quake and the Foundation members who were in a standoff, blocking all their escape routes.

Quake, who was initially somewhat wary,

Seeing his men quickly gather around him, the unease and vigilance he felt due to the enemy's mysterious disappearance also quickly dissipated.

Without any more scruples, they became increasingly reckless in their actions.

Without waiting for the foundation team's response, it raised its enormous wolf claws and grabbed.

The speed was slow, as if it were deliberately toying with these people.

This series of events began as soon as the group entered the restaurant, where they were approached and provoked by the other party.

Driven by lust, he invited her without hesitation, then transformed into a wolf, ready to make a big move and seize her by force.

Now that things have come to this, we have reached the point of no return and have nowhere to retreat.

At the forefront of the six-man squad stood a middle-aged plate-armored warrior with a weathered face, scarred and stubble-covered, his eyes growing cold.

He raised his hand to remove his helmet and visor, gripped his sword and shield, and took a step forward, firmly standing between the werewolf and his teammates.

The mage, draped in a robe and holding a crystal staff, and the hunter, wearing a hood and gripping a short bow, quickly retreated a few steps to create distance between themselves.

The weapon was pointed directly at the werewolves around them, their gaping maws and greedy eyes staring at each other.

The priest, dressed in a white robe and wearing a crown, opened the holy book in his hands.

Holding a cross aloft, the witch stands beside the alchemist, who carries bottles and jars, in the center of the procession.

Be ready at any time to unleash wide-area healing or control spells.

A well-coordinated battle formation was deployed instantly.

But the werewolves opposite them, like wild beasts filled with greedy desires, showed no sign of backing down.

The next moment, the clash erupted without any suspense.

The bowstring trembled slightly, and the sharp arrow, reflecting a cold light, tore through the air, aiming straight for Quake's eye socket, who was closest to it.

However, this level of attack is still far from enough for someone who can stand out in the battle and become the "chief" of a clan in the Brotherhood.

With just a slight tilt of his head, Quake dodged the long-planned attack.

The arrow, having missed its target, left a trail of afterimages and embedded itself halfway into the metal wall at the far end of the restaurant.

The staff hiding below trembled with fear, their eyes filled with terror.

Faced with the sudden outbreak of battle, ordinary people trapped inside could only hide deeper and pray that they would not be affected.

The entire space was originally a lavishly decorated restaurant.

The howls and roars of werewolves rose and fell, their claws scraping against the metal shields, sending sparks flying and creating a piercing noise;

The mage chanted an obscure incantation, and a crimson fireball, carrying a scorching heat, slammed into the werewolf's body.

In an instant, large patches of black fur were singed off, and the pungent smell of burnt meat mixed with screams filled the air;
The alchemist smashed a glass bottle containing an unknown liquid on the ground, sending up a cloud of eerie green smoke.

A touch of green appeared on the werewolf's otherwise pitch-black face;

As the pastor chanted in a high-pitched voice, a golden halo swept over the team, rapidly restoring everyone's strength and leaving them feeling tireless.
Finally, the witch, having gathered her magic, raised her hand and unleashed a cloud of dark mist that enveloped several werewolves, and even Quake, who had been temporarily forced back.

Instantly, the werewolf that had been hit let out a painful howl.

It frantically scratched at the fat insects that crawled out of its skin and were gnawing at its flesh.

This squad, seemingly straight out of a fantasy story, managed to hold off the werewolf's attack for the time being through their close teamwork, creating a stalemate.

But soon, more werewolves, their ferocity aroused by the screams and the smell of blood, pounced on them.

Their eyes were filled with bloodthirsty bestiality, and their bodies were strong enough to withstand the burning of a mage's fireballs.

The scales of the battle tipped rapidly.

Just a few minutes.

With bloodshot eyes, Quake, enduring the slowing spell and corrosive poison mist, suddenly hurled the middle-aged plate-armored warrior who had been holding him back from the front row.

The soldier slammed heavily against the wall, bleeding from his mouth and nose as he fell to the ground.

As he tried to prop himself up with his dented shield, only to fall back to the ground once more, his angry gaze sealed the fate of the battle.

As the squad's formation was disrupted, the mage was the first to be swatted away by a claw, splattering blood and unconscious. Without coordination, this already unequal battle quickly turned into a one-sided affair, with figures falling one after another.

With his hands free, Quake grinned maliciously as he approached the witch, who had exhausted her magic and collapsed to the ground, her face filled with terror.

His wolfish eyes gleamed with lust as he sized up the alluring beauty before him, her purple hair damp with sweat and clinging to her fair cheeks.

As my gaze swept across the room, it met a pair of eerie purple eyes filled with panic and fear.

From Quake's jagged, gaping maw, a huge wolf tongue, reeking of decay, licked across the corner of his mouth.

"...Hmph...Looks like you have no choice~ Hehe—~"

He grinned mockingly.

Just as he reached out his wolf paw, preparing to tear open the packaging of the small purple cake in front of him and enjoy it,

Suddenly, the ears on Quake's ferocious wolf head twitched violently, and a gust of wind whistled past his side.

The beast's eyes narrowed, ready to react.

But the wind was so strong that before he could make any move, a tearing pain shot through his shoulder.

Immediately afterwards, a tremendous force struck his waist and abdomen, and he was suddenly sent flying backward in a daze.

At the last moment, he only saw a purple figure standing in the spot where he had just been.

He held in his hand a slender, dark red noble rapier that looked as if it were forged from congealed blood.

"boom--!!"

Quirk once again blurred into a blur, flying backward and smashing through a pile of tables, chairs, and tableware before crashing heavily into the metal wall of the restaurant.

At the same time, a huge wolf paw covered in black fur fell from mid-air, splattering hot blood as it hit the ground.

Almost simultaneously, several werewolves nearby also fell down with howls, their bodies riddled with deep, bone-revealing wounds.

Before the remaining members of the Werewolf Brotherhood could gather, another series of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Soon, a group of vampires, clad in black robes and with bloodshot eyes, poured into the torn doorway and quickly subdued the werewolves who were still struggling.

Finally, led by a young vampire.

MacArthur, wearing a military green overcoat, sunglasses, and a pipe, walked in side by side with old Paul, who was in a white naval uniform.

As soon as he stepped through the door, old Paul's face immediately darkened, and his eyes quickly scanned the dining room.

The sunken floor, torn tables and chairs, and scattered tableware made it look like the place had been ransacked.

The restaurant staff and soldiers who quickly recognized the two men got up from the corners or behind the tables and cautiously approached.

In the twisted and dented corner of the restaurant, Quake, with a missing arm, shook his massive head as if nothing had happened, shaking off the shards of plates and glass that covered him, and struggled to his feet.

But as soon as he looked up, he met old Paul's angry gaze.

"You...you'd better give me a reasonable explanation!!"

Old Paul's words were filled with a furious rage, but clearly, they also encompassed both sides present.

But Smith, standing to the side, seemed completely unconcerned, maintaining his elegant and composed expression.

Ignoring the questions, he stepped forward and approached the witch who was sitting on the ground.

He leaned down and raised his hand, his voice gentle: "Beautiful lady, if you don't mind, may I take your hand?"

The witch, bewildered by the sudden changes, glanced at MacArthur, whose face was hidden behind sunglasses and whose expression was unreadable.

After hesitating for a moment, she gently took Smith's outstretched hand.

Helped to her feet, she followed Smith to the somber-smelling old Paul.

For a moment, the two stared at each other with different expressions, and neither of them spoke.

Smith glanced at the white-haired, white-bearded old man in front of him, whose crotch had a suspicious brown stain.

There was no bow, only a slight nod.

He spoke in a strangely tactful tone: "Sir, as a vampire who has cooperated well with the Federation, you should be aware of our reputation."

"This whole incident was caused by that rude werewolf, Quake. I was just a small man who, out of gentlemanly manners, offered my help..."

Then, ignoring the werewolves' glares that seemed to want to devour him alive, he recounted the events in detail.

It was nothing more than greed and bestiality leading to ruthless looting, with no regard for the lives of the soldiers and ordinary people who were also in the restaurant.

Of course, a little bit of gentlemanly etiquette also helps at the end.

As he listened to his story, old Paul's expression visibly contorted, his white beard trembling uncontrollably, clearly as he struggled to suppress his emotions.

Even MacArthur, who had always been expressionless and indifferent, took the corncob pipe out of his mouth.

He glanced sideways at the rather disheveled foundation team members who were being helped together.

Is that really the case?

This was also the first thing he said since he entered the room.

Upon hearing their superior's question, the foundation members, who had just listened to Smith's entire account, exchanged glances and nodded.

The purple-haired witch, who had just been cooperating to confirm the situation, turned and looked gratefully at the tall vampire beside her. When she looked at MacArthur again, her tone was certain.

"Yes, sir, that's absolutely true. The truth is only worse than this gentleman described."

"it is good."

MacArthur nodded and turned to look at old Paul, whose face was flushed.

“Old buddy, let’s call the medical team to handle the scene first. As for the rest, report it to the federal government, and they will make proper arrangements.”

The tone wasn't exactly familiar, but it gradually calmed old Paul down.

He looked at the soldiers and staff, most of them wounded, supporting each other, and could only sigh inwardly.

He turned his head and gave instructions to the guard beside him.

"Go and take the injured to receive treatment."

After saying that, he turned again to the werewolf brotherhood members who were gradually shrinking in size, shedding their fur, and transforming into human form.

His gray-green eyes were filled with coldness.

"You should leave now. I will report everything that happened here to the Federation, Mr. Extraordinary One!"

He practically choked out the last few words.

As soon as he finished speaking, old Paul turned around and led the wounded soldiers and staff out of the restaurant.

MacArthur glanced at the injured Foundation team, supporting each other, said nothing more, and then turned and left.

Only the vampires, in perfect condition, with bloodshot eyes and a mocking sneer on their faces, remained in the restaurant.

Together with the werewolf brothers, each one wounded and staggering as they regained their human form.

Faced with the old captain's harsh words, the werewolves present were speechless and unable to refute them due to the overwhelming evidence.

But in reality, he didn't care much. This old man, who was supposed to be a mission collaborator, was actually just an ordinary person.

In the eyes of werewolves, the gap between ordinary people and extraordinary individuals is insurmountable, and in fact, this is true in most cases.

Since transforming from a gang into an extraordinary werewolf family, they have enjoyed far too many conveniences and privileges.

Compared to the federal officials who require humility and generous compensation when speaking to them, these red-eyed scoundrels in front of me are far more important.

"Ha~"

The atmosphere was tense and tense, but Smith, who had been calm on the surface, suddenly chuckled softly.

This immediately provoked the surrounding werewolves to let out a low growl that seemed to come from their throats, along with increasingly angry eyes that looked as if they were about to breathe fire.

However, he seemed completely unconcerned and even waved his hand.

Immediately, the vampires who had been blocking the doorway silently retreated to the sides, leaving a way out.

This action immediately puzzled the wolf pack.

It was hard to believe that the vampires, who had always been at odds with their side, would so suddenly and easily let go of this excellent opportunity.

He stared at those blood-red eyes that seemed to always carry a mocking gaze for a long time.

"...Ugh...What kind of trick is this now?!"

Frustrated by the strange atmosphere and his muddled mind, Quake roared, but received no response.

All the vampires stared silently in his direction, making him feel a sense of mockery.

However, after glancing at his own bare shoulder and seeing the newly grown arm that was only half-grown, his remaining rationality suppressed the urge to pounce on it.

He could only raise his hand fiercely, grab the arrow that was stuck in his shoulder and preventing it from healing, pull it out, and throw it on the ground.

Then, after regaining some clarity from the pain, Quake, supported by his men, staggered toward the exit.

Finally, the werewolf leader standing at the door turned around and stared intently at the leading vampire in a purple suit.

"Damn bloodsucking reptiles, we'll see!!"

He uttered a harsh remark, then turned and left without looking back.

Following closely behind, the other werewolves, who had already transformed into human form, also surrounded him as he left.

Feeling the hateful gazes falling on him, Smith curled his lips into a pleased smile.

He waved only after the last black figure disappeared through the doorway.

The scattered vampire minions, who were forming an encirclement, were brought together to lower their guard.

Inside the room, everyone had left, leaving only their own people.

The young vampire who had just been in charge of relaying information and brought the old captain over looked at the werewolf pack that had disappeared at the end of the corridor and asked in a puzzled tone.

"Your Excellency, is this really going to work? The Federation's soldiers might not be able to handle these crawling insects in the sewers, would they?"

Hearing the question from beside him, Smith, who was in a good mood, did not answer immediately.

Instead, he raised his hand and pulled out a faded old photograph from his breast pocket, fiddling with it in his hand.

"Hehe~ The Federation is more resourceful than you think, especially with that legendary general around."

"His superhuman forces and the Foundation are not simple entities."

"Now, the image of werewolves in the eyes of these two is almost completely ruined."

As Smith spoke, he casually tossed the photos he was flipping through to the young vampire beside him, who still looked somewhat bewildered.

Then he raised his hand, and in his palm, the blood-red rapier melted like wax.

It turned into a blood-red liquid, flowing back to a wound in his pale palm, and instantly healed.

The young vampire who received the photo also saw the pattern on it.

That was... a gray-black wolf, pouncing on a falcon in mid-air before a cliff.

The photo captures the moment the wolf leaps into the air, about to fall.

Just as he was examining the photo and beginning to understand, he heard Smith's highly recognizable, melodious voice.

"The enraged coyote pounces on the falcon; it will be its last madness before the cliff."

With that, Smith turned his gaze away from the end of the corridor and walked to the other side of the corridor.

The young vampire, meanwhile, held the photo in his hand, staring blankly at the figure's back.

He only came to his senses when his companions called out to him, and quickly caught up with them.

At the same time, they also heard about Harold Smith, the Night Knight, who was a role model for countless new vampires.

That cheerful voice drifted over.

"With just a little intervention, we can add a few more opponents to the enemy's ranks. Isn't that a great deal?"

"Alright, we should go now. Let's get ready and go check out the city outside the ship when night falls."

"All for the noble saint."

"All for the Holy Maiden!" the vampires responded in unison, following closely behind Smith as they left.

(End of this chapter)