Chapter 129: Rescuing the Spirit Cat

Early morning, New York Prison.

A prison guard, pretending to conduct rounds, arrived at the cell of Felicia’s father. He had received a lucrative offer—someone had paid over a hundred thousand dollars simply for him to snap a photograph of the Cat in his cell. It was an odd, almost trivial request, but tempted by the massive payout, he agreed. He secretly took the photo and sent it off. He received the payment quickly, but before he could even celebrate, he looked up to find that the prisoner in the cell had vanished.

The FBI arrived on the scene shortly after to investigate. The prisoner had disappeared into thin air as if by magic, leaving them completely baffled. In truth, the reason was simple: once Michael received the photo, he opened a portal directly to the image’s location and brought the Cat away.

"Hello, Mr. Cat." Michael looked at the unremarkable middle-aged man before him, finding it hard to believe he was a legendary master thief.

"Who are you? Do we know each other?" The Cat was puzzled. How this man had brought him here in an instant was beyond his comprehension. He just hoped this wasn't a lethal business proposal.

"Your daughter is my employee. As her boss, I had to rescue you so she could work for me with peace of mind." The Cat didn't believe it for a second; there was no way such a good-hearted boss existed without an ulterior motive.

Felicia had already woken up, and the moment she stepped out and saw her father, she was overwhelmed with emotion. "Dad!" She ran over and threw her arms around him. The Cat held Felicia, enjoying the long-lost warmth, but he soon sensed something was wrong. "Did you sleep here last night?" As a veteran thief, he was naturally observant of minute details. Felicia wore no makeup, yet she was dressed in work attire—this was illogical. No girl would leave the house without wearing any makeup at all, unless she hadn't left since the moment she woke up.

Facing her father’s interrogation, Felicia blushed. "Dad, it’s not what you think."

The Cat’s face hardened. "Nonsense. Even if I never got out, I would never want you to suffer such indignity." He then looked at Michael and said, "Though you have done me a favor, this girl is my only daughter in this life, and I will see that justice is served for her."

Michael looked at him, speechless at the man’s vivid imagination. Too lazy to explain, he tossed a bag over and said, "Inside is cash, a debit card, and a new identity. Don't show your face again, or you’ll only implicate Felicia. Say what you need to say quickly; once you’re done, I’ll send you away." The Cat’s expression shifted as he looked at Felicia again.

After a long while, the Cat finally understood the full story. He looked at Michael again and said, "I apologize for my earlier irrationality. Please, do not hold a grudge against Felicia. If you have any complaints, direct them at me."

"Rest assured, I am not as reckless as you." Felicia added, "Michael is not a petty man."

The Cat felt a bit awkward, but as a master thief, his thick skin was legendary. "A pity. He’s a good candidate, shame he already has a girlfriend." He looked at Felicia, sighing at her lack of initiative. If you like someone, go after them! If you don't know how to steal a man away, go learn at a construction site! Felicia hadn't stopped talking about Michael earlier; the man was handsome, wealthy, and powerful, and could even open strange portals. How could the Cat, a father, not know what she was thinking? It was just a pity his daughter was so dense.

"Please look after my daughter. As it happens, I have quite a few enemies of my own."

"Don't worry, no one dares to touch my people."

The Cat gave Felicia a few more instructions, mostly urging her to hone the skills he had taught her so she could handle any emergency. Shortly after, Michael waved his hand, opening a portal that deposited him directly into Cuba. The Cat landed headfirst in a ditch.

"Damn it! Didn't they say that man wasn't petty?" The Cat scrambled up, looking disheveled, and hurriedly pulled out the bag Michael had given him. Fortunately, it contained waterproof bags, and everything inside was dry. He looked down at his clothes, which had somehow changed into a tracksuit.

"What a thoughtful man. I’m starting to like him more and more. I hope you treat Felicia well in the future. Sigh, that silly girl, she really is a worry."

Inside the bag were a mobile phone, an ID card, a driver’s license, a stack of cash, and a note. He opened the note to find his new identity: a small-scale farmer in Cuba who grew tobacco and made cigars. At the bottom was a thoughtful addendum: *I heard Cuba has girls with hips wide enough to hold a champagne glass, and cigars rolled on the thighs of world-famous maidens—try them for me.*

"Oh, cigars are fine, but the hips? I'll pass."

"At least I know Spanish."

...

The human blood factory had also been successfully destroyed by Gwen and her team. Overnight, the vampires in the city were almost entirely wiped out. Unfortunately, Dracula had no idea where Loxias had gone. As for how to deal with Dracula? He truly could not be killed, so Michael decided not to let him die; he planned to seal Dracula away so he would never see the light of day again.

Sealing Dracula was simple. Michael prepared to use strips of cloth infused with dark gold material to wrap him like a mummy. On these strips, he used gold-based magical potions to inscribe various runes, sealing Dracula completely and preventing him from using any magic. The dark matter strips would never rot, and the gold would not fade, ensuring Dracula could never use magic again.

Next was the creation of a coffin. After molding it, he placed Dracula inside and poured the dark metal directly over him. Soon, a metal object resembling a pharaoh’s sarcophagus was finished, with Dracula encased within the dark metallic substance. It must be said that this was an extreme waste of dark metal—all the material intended for Angel equipment had been consumed—but it truly made Dracula secure.

Soon, Dracula would fall into a dormant state due to lack of oxygen and would never wake up again. He wouldn't die, but he wouldn't be able to get out. Some vampires might not be dead, but they certainly weren't alive. Afterward, Michael bought an island and buried the coffin deep underground.

"Kayle."

"I am here."

Michael hesitated for a moment before asking, "Why didn't you stop me?"

"Are you referring to the human blood you consumed, or the time you bit the maid?"

"The maid, I suppose."

As the Angel Queen, Kayle had no bloodlust, so how could she have detected the human blood hidden in the steak?

"I was observing the reactions of your body's instincts. With your capabilities, you could easily have saved that dying woman. I was not worried about you killing her."

Michael gradually calmed down. Kayle was right. As long as he hadn't torn her to shreds on the spot or caused immediate brain death, he could save her. It wasn't an irreversible mistake.

"Then what did you observe?"

"Desire. Endless desire—bloodlust, killing, sex, and more. Something has gone terribly wrong with your body. What’s terrifying is that the source of the problem is the very gene that cured your disease."

Michael couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy. *Is this how I will be for the rest of my life?*

"What should I do?" Michael slumped over the desk, burying his hands in his hair, his heart in total turmoil.