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Henry drove his old Cadillac once again to the mansion district of Montecito in Santa Barbara County, California.
Even though he was driving himself this ti, his mood was no different from last ti—equally unpleasant.
The mansion listed on the invitation was even more extravagant than that of the overweight Black state senator he had visited before. The garden alone was likely more than twice the size.
The difference was that last ti, the senator knew he had stirred up trouble, so he had stationed nurous heavily ard guards. In the end, it hadn't mattered—they were all wiped out by the Continental.
This ti, Jas Arden's estate didn't have that many visible guards. The pathways were simply well-lit, ensuring no one lost their way.
That didn't an security was lax. In just a few minutes after passing through the front gate, Henry had already spotted nurous surveillance caras—covering nearly every angle without blind spots.
The llon family's Oak Spring Farm operated similarly—loose on the outside, tight on the inside. Not like the cartel compounds in movies, with ard n patrolling everywhere, but certainly not defenseless either.
As Henry approached the gate, the iron bars opened automatically—no need to get out, press a bell, or verify identity. It was a subtle but effective show of control, far more refined than simply blocking entry.
He drove all the way up to the mansion and parked near the side. As soon as he stepped out and removed the key, a butler in a tailcoat erged from the entrance—as if his arrival had been precisely tid.
"Mr. Henry Brown. My master has been expecting you. Please follow ."
"Of course." Since the invitation was polite, Henry responded in kind.
At the sa ti, however, he activated his full suite of super senses, scanning the mansion.
Thirty-seven n. Nineteen won. And… two vampires.
The distinction ca not just from body shape, but primarily from body temperature. Won generally radiated slightly less heat due to higher fat content. As for vampires—their temperature was close to that of a corpse.
So, they're not here with good intentions.
As for what he glimpsed in part of the basent—sothing straight out of hell—Henry chose not to dwell on it. Even a glance was enough to make him uncomfortable.
Prepared, Henry followed into what appeared to be a dining hall. The massive table at the center could easily seat twenty or thirty people.
At the head sat a young-looking man and woman, both with refined features and impeccable posture—too young-looking, in fact. Along the walls stood over a dozen large n in black suits.
They seed to be trying to recreate a Godfather-like atmosphere—but it ca off slightly awkward.
Still, the pair at the head lacked the restlessness of youth. Instead, they exuded a calm far beyond their apparent age… along with a hint of excitent.
If they weren't vampires, Henry might have praised the old-money families for raising such successors. Unfortunately—human nature.
He wasn't seated at the far end of the table. With several large floral arrangents in the way, he wouldn't even be able to see the hosts from there.
Instead, the butler guided him to a seat near the head—clearly a place of honor.
"Mr. Brown," the butler announced, "this is my master, Mr. Jas Arden, and his wife, Mrs. Lilith Arden."
Turning back, he added, "My lord, Mr. Henry Brown has arrived." Then he stepped aside.
"Mr. Brown, it's a pleasure to finally et you in person," Jas Arden said, extending his hand warmly.
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Arden." Henry accepted the handshake.
The mont their hands t, a crushing force gripped Henry's right hand. If not for his steel-like body, his bones would have been shattered.
Henry didn't retaliate. Arden quickly released him, smiling with no trace of apology—only a hint of mischief.
"My apologies. I simply couldn't resist testing just how durable you are. Truly beyond my expectations."
Henry frowned slightly, as if in discomfort, examining his hand. That only made Arden more pleased.
"So," Henry said, shaking his hand lightly, "can we consider that even?"
"Please, sit, Mr. Brown. We have much to discuss. It won't be settled so easily."
The vampire couple sat first, their tone dripping with authority.
Henry took his seat a mont later. Since they clearly had hostile intentions, he needed to understand their leverage and thods.
Arden wasted no ti. "Mr. Brown, I believe Mr. Giancarlo Dragone—"
"Giovanni Giordano Dragone," Henry corrected internally, recognizing the na as Giancarlo Delagonetti (吉塔诺·德拉戈内蒂).
"—has already offered you very favorable terms. Yet to this day, you've given no satisfactory response. This has displeased many."
"His proposal?" Henry shrugged. "I'm afraid I've forgotten the details. But if I forgot, that just proves it wasn't worth rembering."
"That is a very rude statent, Mr. Brown. So people's words must be rembered—even if they offend you."
"People like Mr. Delagonetti?"
"Exactly." Arden's face showed unmistakable reverence.
Henry tilted his head. "Let ask you sothing—what gives you the right to lecture ? Young man, have you even graduated high school?
"I don't care if these people—" he gestured at the n in black suits around the room, "—listen to you, or if you've hired yourself a proper British butler. All that tells is your family has more money than mine.
"Don't take that condescending tone with soone older than you. Graduate first."
The deliberate provocation worked perfectly.
The young-looking couple burst into laughter. The woman even wiped tears from her eyes. "Do we really look that young to you?"
Jas Arden said, "Young man, we are the ones qualified to call you young. I am ninety-three. My wife is ninety-one. Why do you think we look like this? It's a gift from Elder Delagonetti."
"You…" Henry feigned alarm, pulling out a silver cross pendant from under his collar and holding it up with both hands.
That only amused them further.
Arden waved dismissively. "Have you been watching too many horror movies? Crosses don't work on us."
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