Ch.69

There’s a joke that circulates among monks.

They heard a demon was coming, so they all waited armed and ready, but the demon disguised himself as Christ and walked right through the front gate.

Ishmael Van Helsing, using the alias Vladimir, enjoyed this unfunny joke. The joke itself was the devil’s irony.

The monks who failed to catch the demon disguised as Christ would either fall from grace or be mocked for not recognizing their own God. If they caught the demon, uninformed witnesses would execute the monks for persecuting Christ.

Either way, the monks would lose.

“This is how business should be done. Always pursue the direction that brings profit.”

Before leaving the village temporarily, Van Helsing repeated this story to Jonathan and Mina. He didn’t forget to add his instructions.

“I’ll return as quickly as possible. With trains and steamships available, it won’t take more than a month. Meanwhile, recruit as many people as you can.”

“Are you going far?”

Mina winked and pressed against her mentor’s body. She slipped her hand into his pants pocket and felt between his legs. Helsing also wrapped his arm around Mina’s waist. But his fingertips were touching Jonathan.

“I’ll definitely need to go to London. I have to meet an engineer.”

“An engineer? Why so suddenly?”

Helsing pulled out a letter from his pocket.

“They’ve made something quite unique at Oxford and Cambridge. Something called clockwork engineering or clockwork kinetics—some strange name like that. It’s a technology for implanting clock spring mechanisms into human bodies. I thought it would be difficult, but it turns out to be a surprisingly simple procedure. And after all, I am a doctor by training.”

That’s true. Van Helsing is renowned for his excellent medical skills.

He’s a selfish practitioner who uses his medical arts only for himself, a gold-worshipping materialist who buys and sells greed, and a sadist who doesn’t discriminate between men and women.

And now he’s dealing with Russian revolutionary organizations.

“Does that have anything to do with our work here?”

Mina lowered her voice and finally found what she wanted in her mentor’s pocket, gripping it tightly.

“What better way to fool country bumpkins than with science? Do your job properly. There’s plenty of medicine, so don’t worry, and make sure to send the money on time.

Jonathan, you take care of that. These so-called civil activists don’t work if you give them too much money, and they cause trouble if you don’t give enough. You should only give them enough to avoid starvation.

And Miss Mina, we’ll have that special tutoring session with the couple when I return.”

Helsing departed.

Jonathan and Mina, Arthur and Quincy. They were all learning many things from Helsing, both physically and mentally. His teachings knew no distinction between day and night. When their mentor was away, they shared friendship and love among themselves.

This also meant they knew exactly where to stab each other to cause the most pain. However, only Helsing had a grip on the weaknesses of their bodies, minds, and souls.

This group had gained notoriety for fraud and deception in the Old World. While infamy spreads faster than fame, both are alike in that once you hide yourself, replacements quickly appear. So they headed to Russia.

“The biggest business is always politics. And Russia is the best place to sell politics. And in any revolution or whatever, the one with the loudest voice and biggest club wins.”

So far, he had played his cards well. Even during Tsarist Russia, revolutionaries were lighting fires everywhere. And their voices were impossible to ignore. Hadn’t Lenin himself returned from Siberia!

Ishmael Van Helsing had met many prominent revolutionaries.

Most of them were just bespectacled college students with childishly soft hands who couldn’t even look people in the eye properly. All they were good at was fighting in language only they understood, and after their fights, they would always share a drink and lament why the world didn’t sympathize with them. They fell short of Helsing’s standards.

But Lenin was different. His eyes. His manner of speaking. Lenin was born an aristocrat. It didn’t matter what ideology he followed. Lenin was a tyrant by nature, and he could never tolerate “anyone daring to climb up to his level.” In Van Helsing’s view, there was only one reason Lenin followed an ideology.

Lenin was trying to become a god and tsar himself. When one becomes their own idol, who would dare criticize them?

This is the man. Van Helsing was impressed. This is definitely the man.

He invested in him. When Lenin was dragged to Siberia, he was truly upset, but look! He had returned!

Of course, Helsing didn’t think for a moment that Lenin was a man who appreciated gratitude. Lenin was the type who took loyalty for granted. Therefore, whenever he visited him, he always had to bring something to trade. The success in this small domain would serve as the stake for the deal between Lenin and Helsing.

The unfortunate Count hadn’t been doing nothing. The Count had eyes everywhere. The villagers. The old people who pursued tradition. Those who were grateful for the Count’s kindness and the few whose lives he had saved.

But they had lived looking at the ground for too long to understand the heartlessness of those who moved for money. So they couldn’t comprehend what they were seeing when Helsing’s group defiled the village.

* * * * *

While helping with Sidorov’s trial, Jonathan Harker was able to obtain a list of “losers.” Those who had lost in the blood trials and were bound to the Count.

He and his wife Mina visited them. They introduced themselves politely as merchants from a distant land. Then they gave expensive and pretty trinkets as gifts—things that would tempt country folk. In the countryside where everything had to be practical, most items were plain and rough, making these beautiful glass pieces stand out even more.

“How pretty. Who gave you this?”

The losers’ pride swelled with the compliments from those around them.

The important thing was not to ask for anything in return during the first visit. Then, on the second visit, they would say, “I couldn’t even pay you for the items last time, please have a cup of tea,” and open their front doors themselves.

The key was not for Jonathan and Mina to do anything, but to guide them to “do it themselves.” That way, if problems arose, they could say, “I only helped; they made the decision.”

After tea and cookies were exchanged, along with light jokes, laughter, and compliments, naturally the conversation would turn to:

“So how have you been living these days?”

Of course, those who lost in the blood trials were unlikely to be particularly happy.

Jonathan and Mina had already seen all the trial records and knew exactly what problems these people had, so they could steer the conversation easily and advantageously.

“I’m ruined. Now I’m bound to the Count.”

When they covered their faces, they were as good as won over. Mina and Jonathan would wipe away tears and say:

“From what I’ve heard, it doesn’t seem like you did anything terribly wrong. The Count is being too harsh.”

At this, the country folk would raise their heads like snakes and say:

“Right? I did nothing wrong. Honestly, if that person (of course, their trial opponent) had never appeared in my life, none of this would have happened! But to be bound to the Count for life? Isn’t that too much? What kind of trial is this?”

Whether they were actually at fault or not didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that blood trials could only be held with the full consent of all parties involved, or that they knew this fact.

What mattered more was getting them to emphasize three things themselves:

I’ve been wronged.

That wasn’t my intention.

Even the Count turns a blind eye to my truth.

Once they reached this point, it was time to move to the main topic. If the target was a woman, Mina would speak while Jonathan would excuse himself as if he had urgent business. Mina would lower her voice and say:

“Since my husband isn’t here, I’ll tell you this. There’s a medicine developed abroad for situations like this.”

“What do you mean?”

Even country folk don’t easily believe outlandish claims. Mina would lower her voice even more.

“There are more ‘frauds’ like the Count out there. They cast powerful hypnotic spells to use people like livestock. They abuse them. Starve them. They even commit the most obscene acts without hesitation!”

“Oh my. Oh my.”

“Such ‘monsters’ have tremendous lust too. What if—of course, our noble Count would never do this—but what if he cast a suggestion like, ‘Come to my room tonight. And forget everything that happened.’ What then?”

Surely not the Count?

The country woman trembles with fear. No. No matter what, our Count wouldn’t do that. He’s been ruling since the time of our fathers’ fathers and mothers’ mothers.

“Isn’t it strange? Everyone dies. But ‘that one’ doesn’t die, does he? If one has intercourse with something that isn’t human, where would their soul go?”

Mina drops hints as if she knows nothing. By this point, the country woman would be wailing and shaking her hands.

“Recently, have you had any unexplained fevers? Has your heart raced for no reason? Have you felt like someone was watching you? Have you been vaguely frightened? Have your legs gone numb or has your lower abdomen hurt?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes! What’s happening to me? Have I been defiled?”

“I don’t know. Even if such a thing happened, no one would know. The Count is very, very wicked.”

“Oh God! Please, tell me more about that medicine. Set me free!”

And around this time, Jonathan, who had been listening to everything from outside the window, would come in as if nothing had happened. Mina would give him a look, and the woman would be on the verge of madness.

“Thank you for the tea. You’re truly a good person.”

After exchanging normal conversation, Jonathan would tactfully leave, and Mina would quickly whisper:

“In a few days. Meet me somewhere. Just the two of us. You know it’s a secret, right? That wicked one is watching everywhere!”

Giving a few days’ grace is actually risky. If you really want to bewitch someone, you should push them without giving them time to think.

But Jonathan and Mina used this period as a final test.

Those who passed through this “period of doubt and testing” would have their vision narrowed, like passing through a tunnel. They would become blind followers, desperate, and lose their reason.

Fanatics. They needed such fanatics.

When the sacrificial lamb appeared at the meeting place, Mina would hand over something wrapped in thin paper. A small bottle containing a white drug.

“Once a day. Put it under your tongue. Just wait for it to dissolve naturally; you don’t even need to swallow it. If it feels too strong, once every two days is fine, but never more than once a day.”

“Why?”

“It’s a very potent medicine. Taking it consistently is much more important than taking a lot at once. That’s how you can withstand the clutches of that wicked Count. While the medicine remains in your body, nothing can harm you.”

“Thank you, Mina, thank you so much…”

“Don’t mention it. This is a gift. Try one now.”

It’s more bitter than expected, but it’s coated with sugar, so there’s a hint of sweetness. Since it’s a medicine that dissolves slowly, the effect doesn’t come immediately after eating, but as the medicine gradually dissolves…

“I feel good.”

Her pupils dilate, her breathing quickens, and her cheeks flush. The pressure lifts as if a lost spring day has returned.

“You’ll feel good. Now, go back without any worries.”

The woman falls asleep happily, but the next day she finds herself strangely depressed. Her body is soaked in sweat, and she feels bad as if she had a nightmare.

Could it be? That wicked Count…

In fear, the woman takes the medicine again. She feels better, but not as much as yesterday. The duration is also much shorter.

Conversely, the depression and fear intensify. She forgets the warning about one pill a day. The underside of her tongue is already raw, festering, and bleeding, but she doesn’t stop taking the drug.

The woman’s complexion gradually worsens until it becomes a concern for everyone. She rejects even her loving husband and child. She looks in the mirror and sees her hair falling out. Her gums dissolving, exposing her teeth.

People now avoid her, and she becomes increasingly lonely.

“Oh no. How could this happen.”

Mina holds her and cries.

“Why…am…I…like…this…”

As the woman barely manages to speak, Mina answers.

“You’ve broken free from the hallucination. The hallucination cast by the Count. The reason people avoid you is because this current appearance is your true form.”

“No…I’m not like this…this isn’t me…”

“The Count is evil! It’s all because of the Count! He deceived the people around you. He made them turn away from you. He made you lonely! Poor soul, pitiful person!”

The woman is now terrified.

‘How much have I been deceived? Why didn’t any of the people I loved tell me this? They’re all thieves. All thieves! Everyone is crazy!’

She clings to Mina as if she were an angel. Her hands are already trembling, and her eyes are unfocused.

“Cheer up. Let’s get up. We need to expose the Count’s wicked deeds. Come on, take this medicine and regain your strength. It’s a medicine that lasts longer.

Money? What are you talking about, money! Please get better. That’s how you can help me. Well, if you really want to give something…just add a little more for postage. Express mail costs money, you know.”

Handing over a new bottle of medicine, Mina smiled like a baby angel.