I Became A Zompirewolf

Beelzebub stared at Ashton as if he saw a ghost spreading the lord's message. The suggestion was so ridiculous, the Xyran had no idea whether he should laugh at the absurdity of the situation or Ashton's ludicrous offer.

"If that's all you have to say, feel free to chain me up again." Beelzebub shook his head before assuming his previous position, waiting to be chained again.

Beelzebub was a proud Xyran who believed in the ideology of genetic supremacy. There was no reason for someone like him to accept inferior genes in his body willingly.

Without his purity, his status in the Xyran society would be ruined. Death seemed more feasible than an offer to be turned into a lowly hybrid. Astaroth had foretold Ashton about such a scenario.

The Xyrans were way too deep regarding their superiority over other species. The only gene they would have willingly accepted was probably the precursor gene—something Ashton most conveniently possessed, albeit a small fraction.

The next moment Ashton revealed something even Anna had never seen about him. His status page.

"Something tells me going through this would change your mind." He said.

Beelzebub had no intention of entertaining Ashton any longer and raised his head to speak his mind. However, he ended up going through Ashton's genealogical data.

The boy was exceptional. At least in reference to the planet he was inhabiting. Had Ashton been part of an advanced civilisation, he would already be in the top 0.1% of powermongers of the galaxy.

That said, Beelzebub had no idea why the kid was showing him his data. Until he finally saw what Ashton wanted him to see. The look of absolute disbelief on Beelzebub's face was everything Ashton wished to see.

Even the 'most advanced species', a.k.a. the Xyrans, had a tough time getting a sliver of Precursor genes through evolution. The reason is that those evolution choices designed by the precursors were random and depended on various factors.

That said, even the Xyrans were yet to successfully decipher the 'life path' needed to unlock a desirable gene pool. Beelzebub did not know of a single Xyran with any precursor genes.

Despite openly loathing their predecessors, it was no secret that the Xyrans had been dying to get some precursor genes to further 'purify' themselves.

Yet, despite their 'advanced tech' and 'superiority complex', a seemingly ordinary earthling had achieved what they couldn't. Ashton's existence was a slap on the Xyran's faces as, despite their best efforts, a mutated human had progressed further in the quest than they ever could.

Suddenly, more than anything, Beelzebub wanted Ashton to impart some of his genes on him. After all, as long as he could get a small fraction, like 0.01% of precursor genes, no one would pay any attention to the rest of his genome.

Ashton possessed a treasure, ignorant of its value. The turn had been tabled. Now it was Beelzebub's turn to convince Ashton to turn him into a werewolf, undead or his bitch.

As long as he could get his hands on the Precursor genome, Beelzebub didn't care what task he would have to accomplish.

"I-" Beelzebub spoke but was quickly interrupted by Ashton.

"Well, you could have had some of it for yourself." Ashton shrugged before turning to leave, "Unfortunately, you declined my most generous offer of not only having these genes but also leaving this prison. So the deal is off. If luck has it, next time we see each other, it'll be in hell."

Before Beelzebub would pitch a word in, Ashton had already hopped out of the domain, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

***

[You should try fishing one of these days, I'm certain you'll perform quite exceptionally.]

"Bait and switch. A centuries-old tactic, yet still works like a charm." Ashton mumbled, "However, I would not have been able to fool Beelzebub had you not told me about his greedy nature."

[Hah! So you admit you couldn't have pulled it off without my help?]

"Now I think about it; it would have been easier to turn him against his will."

[...]

"Fine, I could not have done it without your help." Ashton sighed, "Happy now?"

[Oddly so. What's next on the menu?]

"A stroll."

***

Livan's population had exploded once the news of Ashton's return spread around the continent like fire. People from both close and far lands came to seek aid in Ashton's city. That said, it wasn't surprising that he encountered a lot of refugees during his stroll outside.

Then there were the Giholos. Ashton was a literal god to them; his presence alone made the aliens feel a sense of duty towards him and his people. As a result, they worked relentlessly to make Livan the most advanced place on the continent.

Ricochet and his men were assumed to be Ashton's close aides. Hence, they, too, were enjoying the royal treatment they were receiving. But they remembered not to let it get in their heads, or Ashton wouldn't hesitate before kicking their asses out of the Ghosts.

After a couple of minutes, Ashton arrived at his destination: Ricochet's room. After knocking on the door, he waited only to receive a surprise nothing in the universe could have prepared him for.

"What are you doing here?" Ashton asked a barely dressed Nora.

"What do you think?" Nora yawned, "I had some exotic human meat for the first time last night, and I loved it."

Fearing the worst, Ashton pushed her aside with little to no effort and scanned the room. Ricochet was curled up like a ball on the bed, naked. As for the bed, well, it was split in the middle, and the floor was cracked as well.

At a glance, it looked like a tornado had hit it. A particular tornado went by the name Nora.

"Of all the people..." Ashton shook his head once he realised what had happened there.

"I'll take my leave now," Nora replied, smirking as she smacked Ricochet's butt, "I'll see you tonight, darling. We gotta work on that stamina of yours."

Once Nora left, Ricochet turned toward Ashton with helpless eyes, "Sir-"

"I have no interest in hearing about your snu-snu fetish," Ashton tossed a pair of trousers to him, "We got some work to do."