Just call me Thor - Chapter 377

Chapter 377: Dracula, look! It’s your son
Despite his surprise at the current Wolf Alpha’s strength, Mike’s mind was clear.

“First, we max out the Exploration Rate on this floor and see if that changes anything. In the meantime, we need to search the wilderness. The Wolf Alpha, the Nature Elf Envoy, they’re both potential threats. Best to find them before they find us.”

The White Wolf King nodded, agreeing with Thor’s plan.

Speaking of the Exploration Rate, Mike suddenly remembered his task to bring Remus home. “By the way, do you know where Remus is?”

The White Wolf King blinked, surprised by the question. “Yes, he’s been here with me for the past few days.”

He led Mike to a secluded passage nearby, where they found Remus.

Remus, still a child, was short for his age. He beamed at the sight of the White Wolf King and ran towards him, shouting, “White Doggy! Are you feeling better?”

“Remus, this gentleman is here to take you home.” The White Wolf King explained the situation briefly and promised to visit him again soon.

Only then did Remus agree to go back to Brookfield Town with Mike.

“Let Vladimir and Dracula escort Remus back,” Mike suggested, opting to divide their forces. “We need to focus on finding the Nature Elf Envoy.”

They returned to the valley entrance, where Mike located Vladimir and Dracula, who was still “patrolling” the area. He briefed them on their new task.

“Consider it done, Master!” Vladimir declared, puffing out his chest. “And I swear on Dracula’s life, if anything happens to Remus, Dracula’s a dead man!”

Dracula: …

Please, just once, could you act like a respectable vampire and not a shameless buffoon?

Mike ignored their antics and simply reminded Vladimir to notify him immediately if they encountered anything unusual.

“Understood!”

And so, the two vampires set off on their return journey, Remus in tow.

The boy carried a basket on his back, filled with what looked like weeds.

“Aw man, I was gone for too long. All the good grass is gone!”

“Don’t worry,” Vladimir said reassuringly. “I’ll take you to a good spot!”

Following Remus’s directions, they arrived at a small meadow, where the boy began gathering grass.

Dracula stood nearby, observing with a sneer. “My esteemed colleague, if you’re feeling so generous, why not lend the boy a hand?”

Vladimir, his expression uncharacteristically serious, ignored Dracula’s taunts.

Just as Dracula was about to unleash another round of snarky remarks, Vladimir spoke.

“Shut your trap, old man.”

Dracula blinked, surprised by Vladimir’s sudden outburst. Could it be… had Vladimir secretly grown stronger?

“You senile fool,” Vladimir spat, adding insult to injury.

Both vampires had ample experience with being turned into pigs. They knew exactly what triggered the transformation.

The more times it happened, the more resistant they became!

Simply hearing the word “pig” wouldn’t cut it anymore.

However, if someone were to utter Apollo’s exact words from that fateful day… well, they would still turn into pigs immediately.

Dracula, unable to tolerate any more of Vladimir’s insults, was about to teach him a lesson. He would show Vladimir that even among servants, there was a hierarchy!

But just then, Vladimir spoke again, his voice deceptively gentle. “Remus, that grass you’re collecting, it smells rather… peculiar. What kind of grass is it? What’s it used for?”

Remus, still gathering grass, turned to face them, a disarmingly innocent smile on his face.

What harm could a child possibly pose?

“We call it pig grass,” Remus replied matter-of-factly. “It’s for feeding the pigs!”

Feeding the pigs?!

To an ordinary person, this was a perfectly normal statement.

Families raised pigs. Children gathered pig grass to feed them.

What could possibly be wrong with that?!

But for the two vampires, it was as if a switch had been flipped.

“I knew it! I knew it!” Vladimir muttered, his voice trembling. “It was bound to happen on this floor! It was only a matter of time!”

The fear of Apollo’s curse gripped their hearts.

They couldn’t forget that man, those words.

“Calm yourself! Calm yourself!” Dracula hissed, struggling to maintain his composure. “We’re professionals! We’ve trained for this!”

They quickly reached a silent agreement.

They needed to call Thor back!

This was a job for their master!

After all, he had handled similar situations before.

A moment later, a massive white wolf descended from the sky. Mike hopped off the White Wolf King’s back.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Why do you two look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Vladimir wasted no time in reporting their discovery.

Mike listened patiently, then frowned. “So, Remus’s family might own a lot of pigs. What’s got you so worked up?” He lowered his hammer, a puzzled expression on his face.

He had received Vladimir’s urgent summons, expecting a confrontation with the Nature Elf Envoy. He had been ready for a fight, his Charge Up at max capacity.

And this was it?

What a waste of good Charge Up!

“Huh?” Vladimir stared at Thor, taken aback by his nonchalant reaction.

“Do you not remember what happened on the 10th floor?” Mike asked. “And what happened to Dracula on the 20th floor?”

Dracula’s eyes widened in realization.

“Stronger vampires can rely on their regeneration to revert back after being turned into pigs,” he muttered.

Apollo’s visit to this floor had occurred almost a century ago.

In other words, if a vampire had remained a pig for nearly a hundred years, it could only mean one thing: they were incredibly weak!

Dracula himself had been transformed into a pig, forced to slumber beneath the icy plains for over ninety years.

But that had been a special case!

Firstly, he had been trapped in a cycle, reverting back to pig form every time it reset.

Secondly, he was far stronger than Vladimir.

Most participants were no match for him and couldn’t kill him even if they tried!

And so, to conserve his strength, Dracula had endured the humiliation, choosing to remain a pig rather than waste precious blood on suicide.

In fact, during his final confrontation with Thor, he had practically thrown away his first life!

All for the chance to revert back to his vampire form and exact his revenge.

Unfortunately for him, he was no match for Thor.

To this day, Dracula couldn’t comprehend the true extent of Thor’s power.

He had a feeling Thor had never once fought at full strength, and yet, victory always seemed to be within his grasp.

Following this line of thought, they reached a simple conclusion:

A powerful vampire wouldn’t willingly remain a pig for a hundred years.

Everyone present was intelligent enough to understand this. Vladimir and Dracula both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness for that,” Vladimir said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “At least we don’t have to worry about running into our Blood Ancestor!”

Dracula snorted. “Whether the Blood Ancestor still lives is a mystery.”

The fate of their progenitor was a subject of much debate among the blood clan’s elite.

Dracula belonged to the camp that believed the Blood Ancestor was dead, while Vladimir held a different view.

They refrained from arguing further.

When it came to the Blood Ancestor, they had a silent agreement.

Firstly, any information regarding their progenitor was valuable!

They couldn’t simply hand it over to Thor for free!

Secondly, if the Blood Ancestor had truly been reduced to a pig, it would be a stain on the entire blood clan’s reputation.

If they were to discover their progenitor wallowing in a pigsty, both Dracula and Vladimir would likely take matters into their own hands and put the poor creature out of its misery!

Such an embarrassing past, if it were to spread, would tarnish the vampires’ reputation beyond repair.

A cruel smile spread across Dracula’s lips. “A vampire, reduced to livestock for over a century? They must be from a weak, pathetic bloodline.”

Mike rolled his eyes at Dracula’s blatant discrimination. “Okay, first of all, let’s not jump to conclusions, shall we? What if Remus’s family just happens to own regular pigs?”

“They do,” the White Wolf King interjected helpfully.

Both Dracula and Vladimir fell silent, their faces burning with shame.

They had been so quick to assume the worst about their own kind.

“Alright, it seems our plans have changed.” Mike adjusted their strategy accordingly. “You two take Remus home. The White Wolf King and I will follow discreetly.”

If Remus’s family did turn out to be a bunch of Pig Monsters, it would be wise to proceed with caution.

And so, under the watchful eyes of several powerful beings, Remus was safely escorted home.

The journey was uneventful.

Upon their arrival, Remus’s mother wept tears of joy, thanking Mike and the others profusely.

Mike took this opportunity to learn more about Brookfield Town’s history.

“Please, come in, have a seat. I’ll get you some water…” Remus’s mother ushered Mike inside, instructing Remus to tend to the pigs.

Mike exchanged a knowing glance with Vladimir, who immediately headed towards the pigsty behind the house, Dracula in tow.

…

The two vampires stood before the pigsty, watching as Remus poured a bucket of slop into the trough.

A horde of pigs descended upon the food, jostling for position.

They snorted and squealed, their table manners atrocious.

Life was good.

They had food, water, and a warm place to sleep.

Being a pig wasn’t so bad after all.

So good, in fact, that they had almost forgotten who they once were.

Outside the pigsty, the two vampires observed in silence, their hearts heavy with dread.

Their faces were ashen, their expressions grim.

The worst-case scenario had come to pass.

The pigsty was teeming with Pig Monsters!

This was undoubtedly Apollo’s doing!

Neither vampire dared to voice their anger or fear. The power gap between them and Apollo was simply too vast.

Suddenly, Vladimir’s eyes lit up. He pointed at a particularly large, rotund pig. “Dracula, look! It’s your son!”

He then pressed play on a recording device, and Dracula’s voice filled the air, cold and resolute.

“A vampire, reduced to livestock for over a century? They must be from a weak, pathetic bloodline.”

Dracula: …

Fuck. I disown that swine! I’m going to kill him!