"I see," I murmured, contemplating the intricacies of the Blood Evil Sword Technique. Each movement was a symphony of fierceness and brutality, a stark departure from the stealth and swiftness of Shadowstrike.

The technique was clearly infused with the raw, primal essence of vampires, its origins in Shadowstrike all but obscured. It was a weapon designed to combat violence with unyielding force, fight fire with fire, a true testament to the First Realm's power.

I glanced at the panel; the absorbed lifespan was only 130 years. The excess had been invested in the other two techniques. Unfortunately, the gain was modest, yielding a talent similar to Boxing Mastery.

[Light as a Hummingbird: Your mastery of movement techniques allows you to control your body with unparalleled grace and agility.]

"Better than nothing," I mused, a wry smile tugging at my lips. The panel's limitations were becoming increasingly clear. While it could accelerate my progress, true innovation required more than just an abundance of lifespan. It required a deeper understanding of the underlying principles, a foundation of knowledge upon which to build.

To create truly unique and powerful technique, I needed to gather more "materials," more techniques to study and dissect. By integrating the wisdom of existing styles, I could draw connections and unlock hidden potential during the deduction process.

It was not a matter of simply meditating and waiting for inspiration to strike. The Blood Evil Sword Technique, for instance, was born from the fusion of the vamp core's essence and my mastery of the Astral Fortification. Likewise, Lightstrike had paved the way for the True Explanation, serving as a stepping stone towards greater understanding.

I had to be content with my progress thus far. In a single night, I had achieved what would take most practitioners a lifetime, even with the aid of rare elixirs.

I rose from my seat and approached the cabinet, my eyes drawn to the neatly folded clothes Rose Hightower had washed and dried for me. As I changed, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My muscles, sculpted by countless hours of training, rippled beneath my pale skin. The only imperfection was the unhealthy pallor, a lingering effect of my previous sedentary lifestyle.

A minor inconvenience, I thought, easily remedied with some sun exposure.

Just then, Rose appeared in the mirror, standing in the doorway. Her gaze briefly brushed over my exposed torso, a delicate blush rising to her cheeks before she quickly looked away. I finished dressing swiftly, my mind a mix of amusement and a touch of self-consciousness.

“Something wrong?”

"Just...just passing by," she stammered, rubbing her stomach with a hopeful expression. "Any breakfast today?"

"Wait here," I replied, heading out the door. At the nearby eatery, I ordered some toast, then hesitated. The thought of those promised training manuals prompted a change of heart. "French toast... How much would that be?"

Logically, a sergeant's salary should be sufficient, especially if I curbed my gambling habit. Plus, I had a few lucrative side hustles...

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Sergeant Kane," the vendor interrupted my thoughts, "don't worry about the cost. Have as much French toast as you'd like. They are on me." He quickly wrapped up the order and handed it over with a smile.

"I appreciate the offer," I replied, shaking my head. "But I shouldn't take advantage of your kindness." I placed two one-dollar bills on the counter and returned home with breakfast in hand.

As I left home again and walked towards the station, I noticed something peculiar. Passersby, from vendors to farmers, were stealing glances at me. When I met their eyes, they quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in their tasks.

"From now on, in Pinewood County, Sergeant Kane will handle any supernatural threat."

"Kane? That Kane?"

"What nonsense are you spouting this early? If you're worried about your wife and daughter being naive spendthrifts, he might be of some help. But supernatural threats?”

"Keep your voice down! Do you know what happened yesterday? The western suburbs are clear of monsters. The villagers themselves confirmed it. The creatures infesting the mountains and plains were beheaded, their heads brought back to the county. And it was Sergeant Kane who led the charge."

I, now a First Realm martial artist, absorbed the whispers and murmurs around me with heightened senses. A ghost of a smile played on my lips.

Quickening my pace, I entered the squad room.

The squad room was eerily quiet, its usual bustle replaced by a tense stillness. Only four figures occupied the vast space. Wade paced the floor with a grim expression, while the Wright brothers and Babar Khan sat at their desks, their eyes vacant and listless.

As I entered, Babar jolted to his feet, his voice a desperate plea. "Sergeant Kane, you're finally here!"

He rushed towards me, his face contorted with frustration and anger. "They are moving us to a new division, Supernatural Affairs. Why are we suddenly the designated monster hunters? Those seven streets in the west were our bread and butter, and Patel just snatched them away without a second thought!"

"Sergeant, you're the sheriff's favorite. For Lieutenant Patel to act so brazenly, he's not just disrespecting us, he's clearly..."

Wade stepped forward and silenced Babar with a gentle push. "This is from Sheriff Williams," he said, his voice low and grave.

The four who had witnessed the gruesome scene at the Velvet Pleasure exchanged knowing glances. The sheriff's message was clear.

He intended to marginalize them, making them suffer the consequences of associating with me. He wanted to send a message to the rest of the force: defy him, and this will be your fate.

"He learned about your victory over Golden Chief," Wade explained, his voice laced with bitterness. "He stormed in early morning, ranting and raving, then left before 9, afraid of running into you."

It was obvious that my display of power had shaken the sheriff to his core, but it wasn't enough.

Beyond the jackalvamps, far more menacing creatures lurked in the surrounding wilderness, their hunger insatiable.

Should an incident occur, even if H.A.R.M. intervened, it would necessitate a complete takeover of the county, evacuating the populace, and engaging in a protracted conflict. Resolving the vamp infestation could take years.

For the county executive and other high-ranking officials, such a scenario was unthinkable. It would mean the annihilation of their carefully constructed power structure, their years of scheming and corruption laid to waste. Even if H.A.R.M. eventually restored order, they would be left with a desolate county, its population decimated, its economy in ruins.

If not for the severity of the crime of obstructing vamp eradication, and my newfound strength, I'm certain the higher-ups wouldn't hesitate to eliminate me, either through more discreet means or by simply placing a bounty on my head.

"Sergeant Kane," Wade's voice broke the silence, his expression a blend of concern and resignation. He had a younger sister to protect, yet he was now branded as my accomplice. The weight of this burden was evident in his eyes.

A flicker of empathy and concern crossed his face as he continued, "Sheriff Williams left a message before he left. He said, if you've come to your senses, you should visit him with a bottle of wine... He mentioned that if the county executive can offer sixty thousand a month to a security specialist, surely he wouldn't shortchange you..."