"So what?" I held my gaze after I asked this question, and I could see the Wiry Samurai hesitate. He almost thought I genuinely expected an answer.
But then, a wave of fury surged through him. His eyes narrowed, his breath quickening. No one in Pinewood County, not since his arrival, had dared to challenge him so openly.
He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, an almost irresistible urge to strike this insolent cop down rising within him.
Yet, under the intensity of the unwavering gaze, a strange unease settled in his gut. His resolve faltered, his fists refusing to obey his command. Had the comforts of the mansion softened his fighting spirit?
No. There was no need to engage in a meaningless conflict with a dead man. To antagonize the North Cliff foxvamps was to invite certain death. Why risk my own life when fate had already sealed his? The Wiry Samurai convinced himself.
A cold smile returned to his face, though it lacked its former swagger. "As expected of a police officer," he sneered. "Sergeant Kane's authority surpasses even that of the county executive. I apologize for my impertinence."
Hearing this, I nodded and turned to leave. But as if a sudden thought made me pause, I looked back at the Wiry Samurai with a hint of concern. "You're getting on in years, Sensei," I advised. "Try not to smirk so often. It might lead to facial paralysis."
The Wiry Samurai instinctively adjusted his expression, his eyelid twitching involuntarily.
Butcher Garcia approached him, offering a pitying glance before following me out of the Hightower estate.
… …
"There was a ferocious tigervamp lurking in my home all along!" Mr. Hightower exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched Wade carrying the massive tiger carcass past him.
He shot a disapproving look at the Wiry Samurai, who trailed behind the others, a meek smile plastered on his face. Then, with surprising agility for a man of his age and formal attire, Mr. Hightower hurried after me.
"Sergeant Kane, wait!" he called out, his voice raspy with exertion.
I stopped, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm here to apologize for my earlier behavior, Sergeant Kane" he said, his voice sincere. "I wrongly accused you of conspiring with a vamp to harm my daughter and erase her memories. I foolishly believed you returned her only to extort money from us... I was blinded by greed and unfounded suspicion."
I remained silent, my gaze fixed on the curb, a flicker of guilt in my eyes.
"It is I, a businessman, who underestimated your character," Mr. Hightower continued, his voice filled with regret. "You are a good man, Sergeant Kane. Rose was deceived by the vamp. If it weren't for you, my family would have been slaughtered."
His words echoed in the quiet evening air, a testament to the profound impact of my actions.
Hearing Rose's name again brought a wave of apprehension. Among the many messes I had made, this was the most perilous.
There had been only two paths forward: eliminate the foxvamp and ensure its silence, or eliminate the real Rose Hightower and forge an alliance with the North Cliff clan.
My decisive action against Master Seven had severed not only its head, but also that second option.
I was just an ordinary man, not immune to fear and doubt. But sometimes, the simplest path was the most honest one. Why not embrace an honorable life, instead of clinging to the tattered remnants of a life I no longer recognized? Those past few days, though short, had been exhilarating, filled with a freedom I'd never known before.
"There's no need for apologies," I said, my voice steady. "Serving and protecting the people is my duty. I simply did what was required of me."
Wade couldn't fit the carcass into the police cruiser, but fortunately, there were plenty of vehicles to choose from at the Hightower estate.
He pulled a large truck up to the curb, with the portly butler sitting in the passenger seat.
"'Did what was required of him...' " Mr. Hightower repeated my words, still pondering, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. If that were true, why hadn't the Wiry Samurai acted with the same sense of duty after he'd offered the county executive so much money?
"Sergeant Kane," he began, his tone hesitant, "when Rose returns, would you consider coming back? I'd like to invite you for tea. She has some knowledge of vamp hunting, having studied under a skilled mentor. You two are of similar age; I'm sure you'd have much to discuss."
Wade stuck his head out of the window, brow furrowed at the suggestion.
Everyone in Pinewood County knew of Rose Hightower's beauty, a prize coveted by many suitors. Compared to her, his sister, though charming in her own right, paled in comparison in terms of social standing and accomplishments.
Wait… why am I even comparing my sister to Miss Hightower? Wade chastised himself. Besides, with Sergeant Kane's newfound power, he likely wouldn't settle for a woman tainted by association with monsters.
"What do you think, Sergeant?" Mr. Hightower asked, his gaze hopeful.
I glanced down at the saber at my waist, and said slowly, "That sounds agreeable."
Mr. Hightower's face lit up, his earlier worries melting away, replaced by the hopeful glimmer of a potential romance blossoming between two young hearts.
Wade, however, rolled his eyes, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. It seemed that even with his newfound resolve, Sergeant Kane's penchant for beautiful women remained unchanged.
With quite bit of effort, the butler managed to climb down from the truck, leaving a large leather bag on the seat. Wade nodded towards the bag, his eyes sparkling with a knowing smile. I could guess its contents without even opening it. From its shape and size, I estimated it likely held a million dollars.
"Please, don't refuse," Mr. Hightower insisted. "I couldn't bear the weight of my guilt if you didn't accept this token of our gratitude. Besides, even the police acquiesces to vamp slaying rewards."
"I know you enjoy the finer things in life," the butler chimed in, clearly proud of his contribution. "Coins are cumbersome, and bank notes lack a certain elegance. So, we've prepared this entirely in cash."
Even for the Hightowers, amassing such a large amount of cash in such a short period of time must have been quite a challenge.
I walked to the passenger seat, opened the leather bag, and gazed at the neatly bundled hundred-dollar bills. A flicker of amusement crossed my eyes.
These wealthy elites, I thought to myself, truly live in their own world. Two pieces of French toast cost a mere dollar, and this amount of money could feed an entire block for a lifetime.
Wade sighed, a hint of bitterness in his eyes. A casual gesture of gratitude from the Hightowers amounted to more than he could hope to save for his sister's dowry in a lifetime.
I rummaged through the bag, extracting two bundles of bills and tossing one to Wade. "Here," I said, "consider this a contribution to your sister's future."
I had no qualms about accepting some money from Mr. Hightower. After all, I had been feeding his daughter, and she did eat a lot. With a final nod, I tossed the bag with its remaining contents at the butler's feet and climbed into the cruiser. With a roar of the engine, I sped away, leaving Mr. Hightower standing there in stunned silence.
… …
Halfway back to the station, I pulled up in front of an upscale restaurant. Wade followed suit.
He seemed to want to say something but hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"Think before you act next time," I advised, my tone firm but not unkind. "Your life isn't something you picked up off the street."
Back at the Hightower's, he seemed genuinely surprised that I'd confronted the Wiry Samurai on his behalf. Now, he nodded in thought, perhaps wondering why I treated my life as if it were picked up off the street.
I rattled off my order: "A bottle of Merlot, a roasted duck leg, and a pan-fried sea bream..."
As I left with a stack of takeout containers, Wade finally spoke up, his voice hesitant. "Aren't we eating here?"
I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "We? If you want to eat, buy your own."
Did he not understand the concept of personal expenses? I earned a meager two thousand dollars a month; I wasn't about to foot the bill for his dinner.
Wade stared at the wad of cash I'd given him earlier, then back at me, a mix of emotions swirling within him.
"What a weirdo," he muttered under his breath.