Chapter 1 "Oh, it looks like everyone's out." Horace poked his head into the treehouse and found it empty.

However, he still led Xiao Tan in through the entrance and told him to find a place to sit.

"It's still early. I think everyone will be here in the afternoon," Horace said, walking to the table at one end of the treehouse and picking up a monster magazine. He showed Xiao Tan the cover and said, "As long as you pass our 'monster test,' you can join the club."

"Monster... test?" Xiao Tan responded to Horace while observing his surroundings.

"You know..." Horace shrugged. "It's just testing you on some monster knowledge to see if you're qualified to join our club."

"Like?" Xiao Tan asked tentatively.

"Like..." Horace pondered for a moment. "Hmm... how to kill a vampire."

"Oh..." Xiao Tan responded, then blurted out, "The most thorough way is to expose them to sunlight, right?"

"Right, right." Horace nodded. "What else?"

"Um... staking through the heart is a classic method..." Xiao Tan thought for a moment and added, "In some worldviews, you have to cut off their heads." He paused. "Of course... I have a friend who thinks throwing them into a hay baler is also a good idea..."

"Wow! You know so much!" Horace exclaimed.

"Hehe... not really." Xiao Tan chuckled dryly. He hadn't known much before, but after playing Thriller Paradise for half a year, he had become well-versed in the knowledge of various classic monsters and demons.

Squeak—

As they were talking, the entrance to the treehouse was suddenly opened again, and a small head popped out from the floor (the treehouse entrance was usually on the floor side).

"Hey, Horace, you're here." The little boy with chestnut hair and a red t-shirt greeted Horace and then looked at Xiao Tan. "Who's this kid?"

"He's Wang, a new kid who just moved here," Horace replied, then said to Xiao Tan, "Wang, this is Sean. He's the founder of the club, and his dad helped us build the treehouse."

As he spoke, Sean climbed into the treehouse and closed the entrance behind him.

"Hello," Xiao Tan greeted him.

"Hey, hello," Sean replied politely.

"Sean, I want Wang to join our club." Horace struck a strange "martial arts" pose, gesturing animatedly as he said, "He's super powerful. He used Chinese kung fu to help me chase away E.J. and Derek today."

"But this is a monster club, not a kung fu seminar," Sean joked.

"Wang knows a lot about monsters too. You can test him if you don't believe me," Horace replied immediately.

"I don't know..." Xiao Tan said, "...but I do know a few things."

"Oh?" Sean perked up. "Then... try our 'monster test.' If you can answer more than half the questions correctly, I'll let you join."

...

Meanwhile, downtown, at the police station reception hall.

As usual, the place was busy at almost any time of day.

Today, a strange man came here...

"Officer, please! Please lock me up!" He was wearing a green hooded jacket and jeans, looked about thirty years old, and kept shouting at several officers, "I'm a werewolf! A werewolf!"

The officers he was pestering were troubled. Frankly... they rarely heard requests to be jailed, and they had never heard of "I'm a werewolf" as a reason.

"Just for one night, please, tonight is the full moon!"

"Calm down, sir." "Please calm down."

"You don't understand! You have to handcuff me! Lock me in a cage!"

As the conversation went on, the man who claimed to be a werewolf excitedly grabbed the shoulders of one of the officers and refused to let go no matter how the officer struggled.

"Oh! Is that so, buddy! Since you want to be arrested so much, then great!" The officers were finally annoyed.

Two seconds later, two patrol officers and a detective stepped forward together and twisted the man's arm behind his back to handcuff him.

"What's with this guy?"

"Who knows... Let's contact the mental hospital."

After hearing the officers' conversation, the man became even more agitated: "Oh, God! You still don't understand... You have to..."

His words stopped abruptly because he suddenly had an idea.

The next second, the man seized the opportunity, pulled out the pistol from the nearest officer's waist, and pushed the three people around him away with a strange brute force.

Bang bang—

He raised his gun and fired two shots at the ceiling without saying a word, then shouted, "Lock me up!"

Bang bang bang—

Before he finished speaking, three more gunshots came.

But this time, it was not he who fired the gun, but a patrol officer who had rushed over from next door after hearing the gunshots.

After the gunshots, the man who claimed to be a werewolf fell down in full view of everyone...

In the eyes of others, this "mentally ill patient who attacked the police and seized a gun" seemed to have been "killed"...

...

At the same time, downtown, at a museum.

"Okay, let me confirm with you again..." A black detective in a trench coat said to a museum security guard who looked close to retirement age with a helpless tone, "Here... there used to be a 2000-year-old mummy, right?"

"Yes, officer," the security guard replied.

"But he's not here now, gone, disappeared, become history," the detective said in his own rap-style language.

"Yes, officer," the security guard replied with the same answer, affirming.

"And you..." the detective said as he walked around the other person, "...say you didn't hear anyone come in... or leave here, right?"

"Uh-huh," the security guard nodded in response.

"Can you hear me talking right now? Hello?" the detective asked, raising his voice in annoyance.

"Of course, I can hear you clearly, officer," the security guard replied calmly.

"So... you mean no one went in to steal the mummy?" the detective asked.

"If they did, I would definitely hear it, officer," the security guard replied.

"Hehe... yeah, of course you would hear it. I asked a stupid question," the detective mumbled, shaking his head. Then he suddenly turned back and looked at the security guard. "Did you take it?"

"No, officer," the security guard's answers were calm, clear, but did not help the case at all, which made the detective extremely angry.

"Okay, I'm just asking." The black detective raised his hands and turned to look at his white partner. "Okay, I've tried my best. This case is too difficult, buddy. I think we should change careers and become firefighters."

"I'm glad you're still in the mood to joke, Richie," the white detective replied with a straight face, then walked two steps toward the exhibition hall where the stolen mummy was located and muttered, "The problem is... a 2,000-year-old dried corpse won't stand up and walk away by itself."

...

"Ah—" After a scream, the homeless man who had been knocked unconscious by Feng Bujue woke up from his coma.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a dilapidated room, lying on a filthy mattress.

"Woke up pretty quickly." The pre-pubescent voice of the child version of Feng Bujue quickly entered the homeless man's ears.

"Hmm?" The homeless man suddenly turned his head and found that Brother Jue was sitting on a small stool at the other end of the room, looking over at him leisurely.

"You! You little bastard..." He cursed and got up, trying to grab the person.

But Feng Bujue just sat there calmly and said a nonsensical word: "Taro."

Unexpectedly, as soon as this word was spoken, the homeless man screamed, fell to the ground, and his body trembled convulsively for several seconds.

"Oh! My back!" The homeless man rolled over after falling to the ground, trying to reach for his back, but it seemed... that this action was very difficult for him.

"Don't try. You can't take the chip out yourself," Feng Bujue said.

"Wh... what chip?" the homeless man replied. "What are you talking about, you little..."

"Taro," Feng Bujue interrupted directly before the other person's next curse came out.

"Ah!" The homeless man shouted again, but the pain came and went quickly. He soon caught his breath again and asked, "What... what did you do to me!"

"It's nothing. I just, with the help of a friend, implanted a chip into your back," Feng Bujue said. "The technological level contained in this chip far exceeds your understanding and even your imagination. I won't go into details. All you need to know is that from this moment on, as long as I say..." He paused. "You know... that word..." He was undoubtedly referring to the word "taro," "...you will become like that."

"Nonsense... how is that possible?" The homeless man, of course, wouldn't easily believe this.

"Don't believe me?" Feng Bujue said. "Then I'll say it again, Tar..."

"No... don't!" This time, the homeless man cowered. "Don't... don't say it again..."

"Heh..." Feng Bujue smiled. "You should be glad, Mr. Hill. Long-term alcoholism and various unhealthy lifestyles have made your nerves dull and numb... otherwise, you would feel more distinct pain."

"Who the hell are you?" At this time, the homeless man Hill obviously no longer regarded Feng Bujue as an ordinary child. "How do you know my name?"

"The only thing of any value in the pocket of your jacket... is your driver's license, Mr. Hill," Feng Bujue replied. "As for my identity, you don't need to delve into it. You can call me... Mr. F."

"Okay... F kid," Hill asked, "Why did you put that... uh... chip on me?"

"Isn't it obvious... of course, it's for you to do things for me," Feng Bujue replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "After all, I'm still a child, and it's easier for adults to come forward for many things. Failing that... you can at least be my driver."

"But... why did you choose me?" Hill asked.

"You brought it on yourself, Mr. Hill," Feng Bujue replied. "You tried to rob me, remember?" He spread his hands. "This behavior of yours eliminated all my guilt towards you. Based on your character, I can say 'taro' all day long."

"Ah—" Hill was inexplicably shot again.

"Secondly, given your living conditions, I think... even if you 'suddenly disappear permanently,' it won't have a big impact on society," Feng Bujue's phrase "disappear" was clearly implying "death." "Anyway... no one will notice for a short time, which is also a very suitable condition."

"Thirdly..." Brother Jue paused for two seconds and added, "Similar to the second point, because you are a drunk and a homeless man, your integrity will inevitably be questioned by secular eyes. For example... no matter what illegal acts I force you to do, even if I am arrested with you in the process, I am still safe. At that time, I just have to pretend to cry and everything will be fine; and you... you can try to tell the police that you were controlled by a child with a super-tech chip and forced to commit crimes, and see what the result will be."

At this point, Hill was sitting stiffly on the ground, dumbfounded.

"Now, Mr. Hill. If you don't want to hear that word again, get up and change your clothes." Feng Bujue said, pointing to a set of clean clothes next to the mattress. "I still have a lot to do before sunset..."

...

At the same time, on the edge of the city, on a mountain road that was not very rugged.

A very simple-looking family hatchback slowly drove to the side of the road and stopped next to the fence.

Then, a pale face appeared in the car window on the driver's side, looking through the window glass and the light-blocking film... toward the city in the distance.

No one knew where Dracula got this car from, and no one knew why he wasn't burned to death by the sun after he turned into a bat and left the plane.

Even more, no one knew... as a vampire who had left the human world for a hundred years, where he learned to drive...

In short, the Dracula in the *Slayer Squad* worldview was a man full of mysteries.

"Let everything begin..."

After staring at the city outside the car window for a moment, Dracula muttered to himself in a very chuunibyou tone, and then... showed an expression of finally being relieved after being constipated for a long time, mixed with a little excitement in his smile.

And after using this kind of facial performance common to horror movie villains... he restarted the car and drove down the mountain...