They've already fought their way through the Holy Grail War, and you still call them dragons?

The man raised the goblet to his lips and drank the Macallan in one gulp, not worrying at all whether Herzog's threat would be carried out.

"Old friend...?" Herzog felt like he had heard the biggest joke of his life, but he quickly realized that "old friend" might refer to something else.

"This is a hasty visit and I don't have much time. If you really don't recognize me, you can just call me Mr. MacAllen." The man raised the whiskey in his hand.

"Macallan..." Herzog felt that the man's words were becoming more and more ridiculous. He actually used the name of the wine as a code name. He was completely a shady and treacherous person.

Although he is usually the same.

"Well, let me explain the situation clearly," Mr. Macallan poured himself another glass of wine. "Our organization is generally referred to as the 'Medical Association.' We have also been an important investor of yours over the years, so we need to check on your research progress from time to time."

"Investors?" Herzog found it ridiculous after hearing this. He set foot on the island country of Japan more than ten years ago, and was able to get to where he is today entirely through his own efforts. Does it have anything to do with your medical association?

The man began to count on his fingers, "The first investment is the provision of the 'Road to Godhood Plan', which is the notebook I gave you."

Herzog froze suddenly, his mind trembling wildly, "You are..."

McCarron then continued, "As for the second investment, Shadow Warrior technology, well, I imagine you're so adept with it that you've long considered it pure science... but it's actually far from that simple. The process essentially involves a bit of alchemy."

"The third investment, the 'bangzi'... Oh! My old friend, you don't really think you can learn music that can control epileptic patients from some Indian tribe, do you? We arranged all this for you."

When the man said this, Herzog's pupils had shrunk to the size of a needle tip, his hands trembled uncontrollably, and at the same time he felt his head getting more and more painful, and he vaguely sensed a discrepancy in his memory.

"The fourth investment is 'experimental subjects.' We've provided you with the highest-quality South American drug lord and human trafficker, 'Boar Neo.' This ensures that even if your experiments stall, you'll never have to worry about a shortage of human subjects. Incidentally, Boar Neo is also one of our Medical Association's subordinates."

"The fifth one... what was it? Oh, yes, we also planted a lot of people to support you in controlling the Eight Snake Clans and the Fierce Ghost Clan, allowing you to take a shortcut! I don't care how the people below carry out the specifics. The reason for this arrangement is that I think your management skills are worrying. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come here in person to bring you here."

"Bondarev! You are Bondarev!"

Herzog roared with his eyes wide open, "You manipulated me. You told me everything, tempted me to act, and then faked your own death to get away from my attention! This way you could control me from behind!"

"Have you finally remembered? Yes, I'm McAllen, I'm also Bondarev, I'm still a member of the Medical Association, and I'm your old friend!"

The man raised his glass high and grinned, as if he wanted to use this glass to celebrate their long-awaited reunion.

"Fuck you! Hypocritical and dishonest bastard Bondarev! Bastard! Inhuman devil!"

Herzog cursed profusely, completely losing his composure. He couldn't accept that his years of hard work had resulted in someone else's manipulation. He couldn't accept that he had spent most of his life living in a world of false or delusional memories.

"You...you will die..." Herzog angrily tried to find the mechanism controller on his body, preparing to use the machine gun trap to shoot Bondarev.

But he came up empty-handed.

The body seemed to have suddenly lost its strength, and fell to the ground like a puppet, no longer able to breathe.

"What a pity," Mr. McAllen walked forward and closed the hateful eyes on Herzog's hideous face.

"Our Shadow Warrior technique isn't flawless. Its remote control involves some mental projection... How could you attempt to directly challenge a king of the spiritual realm with a puppet?"

Chapter 203 New DLC: "Dead Apostles" loading

Although his eyes were closed, Herzog's distorted face was frozen in eternal shock and rage.

"Hello? It's me. Yes, I'm done. Memory cleansing? No, no, no, there's no need to waste time on that. Dr. Herzog, our prized chess piece, has tragically died like a bystander."

After standing up, Mr. McAllen began to communicate with his partners, his leather shoes rolling over the ice crystals in the cold storage, then he raised the toe of his shoes - he did not mourn for the dead Herzog for a moment - kicked his body aside as if it were garbage, and walked out of the storage room.

"You'll never guess what just happened here... Even though I was there in person, I still have to sigh. What a shame! The White King Container we worked so hard to prepare went out of control, and we lost a crucial item for nothing."

"Stop guessing, what you're saying is completely wrong! Of course it's not a bloodline issue. It's the White King, the White King. There's a part of the White King lurking inside the container. If it were simply a parasitic divine skeleton, this kind of accident wouldn't happen. The clapper audio can effectively suppress it."

McAllen walked into the empty laboratory, skillfully cracked the equipment password, and looked through the logs and records left by Herzog in the computer.

"But now, the part lurking in the container must be from Frigga Zero. In any case, the clapper is useless. Instead, it has made things worse, causing Him to awaken further. Our poor Herzog died on the road, stepping on a landmine for us."

"Alright, alright. I knew you'd start blaming me again. I didn't take Frigga Zero back in time... Oh! Sometimes humans are truly foolish. How could you possibly understand that the brothers who mastered Frigga Zero are not only my compatriots, but their attainments and potential in alchemy are no less than mine."

Macallan gave an elegant yet mocking smile. "Anyone with a bit of common sense, after seeing the commotion caused by this Holy Grail War, should have some superficial understanding, right?"

"So, even if we can confirm that Frigga Zero has fallen into their hands, we won't be able to take it back until we are fully prepared."

His slender fingers clattered on the keyboard, and then he transferred all of Herzog's data through the USB port.

"Of course, this doesn't mean we're completely helpless against them. As things stand, they have Frigga Zero in their hands, so they should be the ones worrying. Our entry into the fray at this moment offers us an opportunity to reap a share of the spoils of this chaotic Holy Grail War."

"You said so, right? - Helver, Orlune, and of course our Saint, Regirev!"

The door of the laboratory opened and two girls in skirts with pale skin and long boots walked in. One of the girls had long curly hair and her name was Helvir, and the other girl had a high ponytail and her name was Orlune.

Behind the two women came a white-haired girl, bound tightly in jet-black chains. Chains with a pale golden sheen bound her hands behind her back, and her ankles were shackled. The cold light from the laboratory dome cast a frosted hue on the girl's hair.

Her clothing style was similar to Helwell and Orluen, but more gorgeous and exquisite. Her silver-gray eyes stared at Mr. McAllen with anger. She was the so-called "Saint Regirev".

(Helver, Orluun, and Rigelef are all names of Valkyries in Norse mythology.)

"Look at our most noble Saint. Haven't you always longed to leave that icebreaker chasing the gate to the Kingdom of God and be curious about the scenery outside? Why, after witnessing the scenery outside, do you still have an expression of unbearable anger?"

After putting down the communicator, Mr. McAllen spoke respectfully, but he didn't even turn his head while speaking, as if he was treating it as an unimportant object.

"Hmph!" Ridgelife responded with a brief sneer.

"Oh, dear Miss Saint, what have I done to make you disrespect me so much that you are not even willing to give me a friendly smile?"

"You know, we spent a huge price to buy you from Vincent. As promised, I planned to take you to appreciate the beautiful sights around the world. I remember your eager expression back then."

Unable to bear it any longer, Regis Leif erupted in anger:

"That's enough, you cunning liar! Look at the treatment I'm receiving as a prisoner! How can I trust you to fulfill my wish? Am I supposed to start a world tour in chains and shackles? Is that a parade of condemned prisoners before their execution?"

"Huh...? But your wish is indeed to travel around the world, right? You didn't promise not to let me do that..." McAllen's tone was still light, as if this was not a quarrel but an elegant conversation.

"Are you pretending to be ignorant, you masked bastard?! What I want isn't travel, it's freedom, to live my own life! You treat me like this, which just proves that you're no different from that old bastard Vincent!"

Ridgelev gnashed her teeth, seething with rage. Beside her, Helver and Orluen watched with indifference, their indifference to Ridgelev's plight more like paid guards or assassins. They were also responsible for keeping Ridgelev in check, preventing her from escaping.

There is really no respect at all for the title of this saint.

Macallan raised his palm and waved it, signaling Reggie to calm down.

"Oh, freedom! I understand, I understand. A canary that has lived in a cage for a long time always longs for the beauty of the outside world, and always feels that the quiet little garden of its birthplace is too small and cramped to be seen. It's just like a person who has been on the road for a long time always finds everything in his hometown particularly beautiful and inspiring."

He spread his arms as if to sketch out a picture. "The same is true of your nuclear-powered icebreaker 'YAMAL'. It's like a huge besieged city standing at the end of the world. People outside want to go back, and people inside want to get out..."

"But Saint, please allow me to pause our further communication. Before that, I need to discuss this with my colleagues."

McCarron began speaking into the communication device again, "...Hello? Anyway, you heard it too. Just now, I took a moment to comfort our noble Saint..."

Ridgelife was still furious, but considering her current situation, she finally shut up. She pricked up her ears discreetly, only to hear an old voice on the other end of Macallan's microphone:

"Saint? Oh...are you referring to the ornamental fish we spent a fortune on?"

"Don't be so ruthless, Alpha. It's everyone in the Medical Association who agrees with this move. Didn't you vote in favor, too?" MacAllen shrugged. "You should know that the Saint is technically a direct descendant of the Black Supreme. She's of vital importance to our plan."

"Plan?" Alpha's voice on the other end of the communication became low. "You mean the plan for the new era?"

"Indeed! You and I both know the reasons why the Medical Association is named Medical Association. Although our origins may differ, we all aspire to attain eternity. After the Twilight of the Gods, we will replace the old gods and become the new, lofty gods!"

McAllen revealed without reservation the reason why Elder Alpha... no, the reason why many mixed-blood families including Gattuso joined the Medical Association.

"To achieve this goal, our primary pursuit is self-preservation and delaying our own death, rather than actively pursuing and provoking death like the secret party."

"Unfortunately, after all these years, our greatest achievements have only been a few potions that extend lifespan and enhance bloodlines. We still haven't been able to prevent death from approaching us!"

After Mr. McAllen said this, the person on the other end of the line fell silent, as if he had finally been hit in the nick of time.

The man smiled slightly. The most effective potion available in the medical field today could only extend the lifespan of hybrids by an additional one or two hundred years. For Elder Alpha, whose lifespan exceeded three hundred years, the effect of the potion had obviously diminished. He could basically only rely on special sleeping techniques to survive, and he might die at any moment.

So the old guys in the Medical Association seem to be calm and bored, but who isn't counting the days that pass by, feeling anxious in their hearts?

"But now we have a new and quite feasible plan! This is thanks to the inspiration from the recently popular 'Magic Circuit' system!"

"That thing... I heard it seemed to have spread from Britain and the Vatican..." Alpha said with a hint of doubt.

"We don't have any detailed theoretical data on this new thing. We only have some superficial application-level performance and theoretical framework speculation. I heard that it requires the construction of a new alchemical matrix within the body..."

"While this thing, which differs from the Word Spirit, is worth seeing in terms of its practical use, it doesn't seem to be able to free us from the constraints of lifespan itself."

"Pfft!" McAllen laughed uncontrollably, as if he had just heard something hilarious. "No, could it be that your imagination is only limited to stealing the data from those systems and using it for your own benefit—this low level?"

"What did you say……"

"The essence of the so-called alchemy array is nothing more than a system for guiding and circulating elemental power! However, it was mostly used on external objects in the past, and few people used it to transform themselves!"

"The alchemical arrays on these items can exert various effects comparable to those of spiritual power, and can also maintain operation for extended periods of time... This operating time far exceeds the human lifespan. Among the alchemical instruments discovered in modern times, thousands of years old, many are still functioning perfectly!"

"Then why don't we work on life itself, allowing living organisms to acquire such an energy circulation system? If this were truly achievable, we would be completely confident in eliminating the fragile components of the human body and using this brand new system to achieve a quantum leap in the essence of life!"

Elder Alpha on the other end of the line seemed to be breathing slightly faster, but then he calmed down and said, "What exactly do you mean by starting with life itself? You seem to be being vague."

"Hey! Speaking of the circulation of life itself, the location of this system can be more or less guessed—it's our blood circulation system! This happens to be our area of ​​technical expertise. Using blood as a medium, we have the greatest chance of achieving advancement in life levels! Ultimately, immortality!"

Macallan's tone was rhythmic, and his oratory skills and insight into human nature were clearly far superior to Herzog's. Not only the people on the other end of the line, but also Ridgelev and the other two, heard every word.

"Of course, even the most perfect alchemy array will malfunction if it's not promptly repaired. Similarly, even the most sophisticated circulatory system will gradually cease to function if it's not replenished with nutrients and lost genes. Therefore, we not only need to develop this system, but also equip it with a self-repair mechanism... Since we've decided to use blood as a medium, we naturally need to replenish blood promptly!"

"Vampire..." Elder Alpha hesitated after hearing this. "Doesn't this sound like Deadpool's characteristic?"

"Yes, it's Deadpool's instinct to crave human blood. I remember over a hundred years ago, before the Secret Party entered the academy era, the elders among you still called Deadpool a vampire, an undead, or something like that..."

"But what we seek is not a Deadpool who has abandoned his sanity, but an excellent, transcendent evolution of life! An existence completely different from those inferior Undead!"

"I see. If that's the case, then there should be a different name for the new species in the future..."

Hearing how eager the other party was for his plan, Macallan couldn't help but jokingly said, "Oh! Since you guys are so eager to see it, and you want to distance yourself from Deadpool, how about just calling yourself 'Dead Apostle'?"

However, Alpha on the other side seemed to have lost interest in continuing the conversation. "...Then let's stop here. We're waiting for the good news you bring."

"Well, the annoying old man's nagging time is over, and there's no need for us to stay here any longer. Herzog's cellared wine tastes good, but unfortunately... it's time to go, girls!"

McCarron finished sorting out Herzog's data and plundering all his remaining achievements. After he was done, he blew a whistle.

Loud horse neighing suddenly began to echo in the empty underground base. The eight-legged Pegasus Sleipnir, breathing thunder, stepped out directly from the surface of the incubation pool used by Herzog to cultivate clones, with a curved spear hanging on its back.

The noisy crows began to circle the room, and flocks of crows flew out, forming a black vortex overhead. Mr. Macallan jumped onto his horse, firmly grasped the Spear of Destiny, and transformed himself into the main god of Norse mythology—Odin!

A voice, no longer frivolous but full of majesty, rang out from beneath Odin's mask, "My Valkyrie, it's time for you to appear. Chase the Holy Grail with me and fight alongside me!"

Chapter 204 What a weak god

"what's the situation?"

In the Tokyo underpass, the Iron Dome Temple, dim lights cast mottled shadows on the damp walls. Emiya saw the king clapping the clappers. Suddenly, as if having a seizure, his body trembled violently, then he stiffened and fell straight down.

His movements were stiff and abrupt, as if his life force had been suddenly drained away by an invisible force. Finally, the king's fingers twitched slightly a few times, and then they were completely still.

What on earth is this meaningless behavior about? It can't be a scam, right? Is it a riot?

Emiya was filled with doubts, but he quickly shifted his attention away from the king. He was more concerned about Eri's safety than this inexplicable guy. "Eri, are you okay?"

At this moment, the water flow in the wide tunnel has gradually calmed down, no longer as fast and turbulent as before.

The water gurgled, occasionally stirring up white foam and a gentle splash. The raging waves gradually receded, and the dim lights at the top of the tunnel cast flickering shadows on the water, as if countless tiny stars were shimmering in the water.

Therefore, Emiya was not worried that Eri would be washed away if she just soaked in the water.

Yet, Eri's behavior just now left him feeling uneasy. She seemed to be reacting strangely to the wooden clapper. Although Eri had always been curious about many things in the outside world, she had never been so completely distracted, as if being pulled by some invisible force.

Huhu——!

Suddenly, the wind in the tunnel surged, the air swirling in a vortex, as if manipulated by some force. The wind howled, stirring ripples on the water's surface and even causing it to shift and swirl. Emiya looked up abruptly, his gaze quickly fixed on Eri, the center of the vortex.

His pupils constricted slightly, alarm bells blaring in his heart. Is this... a phenomenon caused by the release of excess mana? A thought flashed through Emiya's mind, and then his expression became even more solemn. Why does it look like—a Heroic Spirit Summoning?

boom!

The cyclone suddenly expanded, and the rapidly flowing water surface instantly exploded, splashing water in all directions, like countless silver arrows shooting out in all directions. The radiating magic power repelled everything, even the mighty water was blocked, forming a brief void. The water splashed in the air for a moment, then slowly fell, as if time had been stretched in this moment.

At the same time, a black figure appeared beside Eri.

Her figure was identical to Eri's, as if she had been plucked from her shadow. However, a thick black aura enveloped her, like mist rising from the abyss, blurring her features, making them appear indistinct, as if veiled by a thin veil.

Only those golden eyes were dazzling, blooming in the misty black fog with a majesty that made people dare not look directly at it.

Eri's pupils trembled, her gaze fixed on the black figure. There was no surprise on her face; this presence was clearly familiar to her. However, a lingering worry lingered within her. The black figure had always been an illusion, something she had only seen, but this time, it had so powerfully interfered with reality.

"Thanks to that unknown idiot, I've finally escaped... The contract has been fulfilled." The black figure spoke slowly, his voice low and cold, echoing through the tunnel. His words sent a chill through the air. "O 'Miko', witness the birth of the myth."

Emiya didn't fully understand what the shadow had said to Eri, but now was clearly not the time to delve into it. He raised the sword in his hand slightly, the blade gleaming coldly in the dim light. Simultaneously, his other hand projected a bow and arrow.

Emiya shouted, "Who are you?" He leaned forward slightly, his feet firmly on the steps of the iron ladder beside the water, as if ready to attack at any time.

"It's you... I know you, the god-killing hero known to everyone in the world."

The shadow said, her voice sarcastic, like a mockery.