DISCLAIMER: The following is a non-profit fanfiction. Hellsing and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen belong to their respective creators, along with all the characters from other works of fictions that appear onwards. This is non-profit and only done for practice and comfort.

The Banana Slug: Well, this was something I really wanted to do. For some bizarre reason I think these two franchises could work together…with some major tid-bits changed and re-worked as per fanfiction norms.

There will be a few set rules:

1) There WAS an old League, but there will be a few canon overhauls.

2) It is set AFTER the main Hellsing story, but there will be a few canon overhauls.

3) Due to inconsistencies in other stories, there will be, you guessed it, a few canon overhauls.

4) Some plot points will be borrowed from the volumes, for familiarities sake.

5) Most of Volume III will be omitted, for author's taste's sake.

As with Young Justice: Halls of Arkham and my attempt to be Grant Morrison, I shall attempt to become Alan Moore. No easy task, a task that is impossible for a worm such as me, for a fanfiction writer is but a flea to a titan like Moore.

Here we go.

Hellsing's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

By The Banana Slug

Chapter 1: A New Era

Tokyo, Japan.

June, 2009

A boy who was actually a man looked around, standing on the rubble as he looked at his watch. He sighed and dug his hand into his dark hair as he pulled off his glasses calmly, wiping them on his shirt as he stood on the wreckage before him, the toppled buildings in the distance.

Japan was a land plagued by titans that attack the mainland for food and a place to roost, with the Japanese government defending it with a series of titanic automatons named Gundam. Rumor has it that they are working on a new type of automaton that would dwarf the Gundam in power and size, but the paramilitary organization NERV kept it a heavily-guarded secret for the moment.

The boy who was actually a man sighed and sat on a stone slab, looking at the carnage before him. He never chose this strange form of immortality, forced to ingest a toxin by a dark organization. He was a detective of great renown, named Jimmy Kudo, who was able to solve any case given to him with the simplest of clues. Now known as Conan Edogawa by his friends and peers in this form, but uses a fool to do his work when the situation calls for it. This man is a detective as well, but a drunk, a braggart, and abusive to Conan.

As he sat, looking at the stars, his friend and current guardian Ran Mouri walked to him holding a bag of groceries and nudged him with said bag. "Conan? Conan," she called to him softly, "Are you sure you'll be fine out here? It might come back."

"After the beating it took, I doubt it," sighed Conan, lost in his thoughts, "I think I'll go find my friends and hang out with them."

"Okay…" she said with worry, looking around a few more times, "Just…just don't be out too late." She looked back a few times before walking away with her groceries in hand. The boy who was a man looked over at her rear, couldn't help but take a look. He sighed again, with regret and hope.

"Yes…it is a beautiful sight."

The dark voice in his head caused him to jump and look around in shock, speaking in clear Japanese. He turned around to see a figure in the far distance, a figure in a blood-red coat and long-rimmed hat colored the same as the coat. Burning yellow glasses seen glistening in the sun as the man walked closer and closer to the boy.

Conan couldn't move, he wasn't afraid nor brave. It was as if this man wanted him to want to stay right there…just to talk to him.

The man finally approached Conan, revealing his face. A pale European man with long black hair and a calm yet unnerving grin. "That girl…quite the figure, hm?" he said again in Japanese.

"Yes…" Conan said to him, looking at the man with contempt and suspicion, "Such…fluency in Japanese for a Caucasian. Where did you learn? Hudson? Bainbridge? Yale?"

"Miskatonic, to be frank," said the man, "What else can you…point out?"

"Well…" started Conan, putting his glasses on as he glared at the man, "I say European, due to facial features. Perhaps Romanian or Italian. Rich by the look of your outfit, obviously custom made and…you…" He gulped, hoping nothing extreme would happen from his final deduction, "…You're skin is quite pale. I heard your voice in my head…some time ago…and I looked at your teeth…when you talked. A vampire…correct?"

The man said nothing, only slowly moved his white gloved hands up and began to slowly clap before him with the pentagrams etched into the top of the gloves clearly seen. "Bravo. You are a detective comparable to the great Sherlock Holmes." Before Conan could smile and gloat a bit from the comment, the vampire held out his hand and said with a dark hiss and a wide grin, "Alucard. Pleased to meet you Jimmy Kudo."

"Alucard?" questioned Conan, reaching out and shaking the vampire's white-gloved hand, "Alucard. A lazy reassembling of your real name…Count Dracula. What do you want with me?"

"Straight to the point, hm?" chuckled Alucard, sliding his hand from Conan's and answering calmly, "I was sent to escort you to Mexico, along with a friend waiting for us at the docks. Speaking of which…" He turned and walked down the bloody and destroyed street, then turning to the confused Conan and saying, "Come…or I'll make you come."

Conan gulped loudly and rushed over to Alucard's side as the two walked down the street with the docks overhead. Alucard looked down and smiled, then continuing with joy, "Now then…where was I? Oh yes. Mexico. We have already informed your professor friend, he was uneasy but my superior won him over. She's the more diplomatic one. An envelope is being sent to the Mouri's, saying you have been cordially invited to a special boarding school in England. Something easily fabricated, due to your 'bizarrely' good grades."

"Wait a moment!" called out Conan, "You think I am coming with you just like that? You think you can just make the decisions for me and whisk me away to Mexico without telling me anything?"

"Calm yourself, Detective Kudo," said Alucard with an amused laugh, "All will be explained in the ship. My superiors would never have sent me unless we were sure you are a useful asset to our League." The two finally made it to the docks, claw markings of gargantuan size scarred the docks with fishing boats smashed against the reef.

"Yes, but you haven't answered my question. What makes you think I will agree to join this League of yours?" questioned Conan with a glare.

"Because we need you," said Alucard with a deep frown, looking down at the small detective, "A force wishes to take over the world, a force I thought I destroyed some time ago. It will stretch from Europe to Asia, claiming your little hovel of a nation and forcing everyone to its knees, and no giant robot will save you from that."

Alucard turned to Conan again and said deeply, "Like I said, you are a detective of Sherlock Holmes' league, if he were still alive I'd be confronting him but he has been long since dead. Trust me, it's is worth your time. And if not, I'll kill you were you stand for being a selfish little brat."

"Be quiet," said Conan darkly, glaring up at the man, "I didn't say no. I just don't like being forced into something beyond my control. So, if you are done threatening my life, Count, I believe Mexico is our destination."

Alucard smirked at the detective's bravery, shaking his head with amusement. "Very good. I think I am going to like you, boy."

"And don't call me boy. Despite my appearances, I am almost an adult," quipped Conan as he pushed his glasses up, "Now…why are we going to Mexico? And where is our ship?"

"She'll get here, Detective," sighed Alucard as the water bubbled in front of the docks to Conan's shock. Alucard ignored this and said, "Mexico is where another potential candidate for the League is hiding out."

"No…" let out Conan as he looked at the water, "We need to go. It's Go-"

"No, it is not," Alucard sighed in annoyance, then continuing as he wiped water from his coat, "The candidate is a member of a long line of hunters and survivalists. The Quatermains, to be frank. You heard of them?"

"The…Quatermains?" breathed out Conan, looking up at Alucard. He gulped as he looked at the water, bubbling louder and with more velocity as he replied with a quiet, "Yes…I've heard of them."

"Yeah…" breathed out Alucard, sighing out again in admiration, "His great-grandfather, the famed Allan Quatermain. His grandfather, the insane yet terribly honed hunter General Zaroff Quatermain. His father, whom changed his last name in disgrace, was the first to hunt down a Tyrannosaurus Rex and live. He even has a relative that is a trained survivalist in a lil' town called Perfection. The man has hunting in his blood…it is time to reawaken it."

Conan watched as he watched a great shadow overlook him from the water, wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the sight before him. Alucard chuckled at the boy's surprise as he looked at the leviathan before him.

"And our chariot approaches."

Dover, United Kingdom

June, 2009

A grand industrial harbor, with giant statues and boats coming in and out was seen in the distance from a large silver freighter. On the deck was a lone man in a fine yet ragged formal suit as he looked at the harbor with tired eyes. He had short yet uncombed black hair with a small black goatee, a tall yet lanky figure, and a large pointed nose. He looked ordinary, really, and had an aura of boredom and regret around him.

He turned his head at the sound of a metal door opening, revealing a tall blonde woman with tan skin walking to him, wearing a brown business suit and holding a cigar in her hand. She had an eye patch over one of her beautiful blue eyes, which had a look of displeasure added with her unconcerned frown. The man pulled from his coat pocket a small silver cigar case with the picture of a fat pierrot in a large diamond outfit etched on it, opening it to reveal ten cigarettes inside.

"You know who I am, obviously," pointed out the woman, "But I don't know who you are."

"Bond, sir," said the man, turning around and pulling out a cigarette from the case, "James Bond. It is a pleasure meeting you at last, Integra van Helsing."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Bond," she said as Bond pulled out a holder from his coat and simply put the cigarette in it, "And that will be the only pleasure you shall receive from me, Mr. Bond. I know of your reputation with female liaisons. I should warn you-"

"Strictly business, understood," he chuckled heartfully as he lit the cigarette with a stricken match, "I am glad that we were able to come to an agreement for the League…of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Alucard will make an excellent addition to the League, along with his familiar."

"Yes, it would seem," said Integra with a hint of distrust, "But I must ask. How did you get that horrid Captain Nemo to join this League?"

"Nehal Nemo was not easy, nearly killed me trying to do so," sighed James, rubbing his jaw as he smoked his cigarette carelessly, "But the urgency of our situation allowed the good captain to see the world's plight."

"Yes, well, you seem to be keen on collecting monsters for your little League," hissed Integra as she placed her cigar in her mouth, "A vampire and his fledgling, a psychopathic thief, a Somalian pirate, and a serial killing juggernaut."

"Come, come, don't come to conclusions, Sir Integra," sighed James happily, lighting Integra's cigarette with his fiery match, "Isn't that the Hellsing Organization's original purpose? I am just following orders for my superior."

"Yes, the enigmatic M," sighed Integra, puffing the cigar, blowing smoke from her mouth as she continued her insinuations, "You don't have to be mysterious Mr. Bond. Obviously your superior is Miss Emma Peel, due to my past dealing with her and phonetics of her name. I'd rather wish to meet her than ramble on with a Double-O."

"Your tongue is a sword, Sir Integra," teased James calmly, "M is quite busy, I'm afraid. But don't worry, I am here to help. We have already acquired Mr. Griffin and Captain Nemo, and your vampires are rounding up Detective Kudo and Quatermain. After that…well, at least we have someone worse for Alucard."

Integra looked at the murky waters of Britain's coast, knowing what he speaks of as her reflection glared back at her in concern. "…Don't jump to conclusions, Mr. Bond."

Tijuana, Mexico

Late June, 2009

The detective Jimmy Kudo stood in front of a derelict building, where a dog chained up barked at him savagely and women hardly dressed rested against the walls smoking and laughing. The nervous boy who was a man gulped and adjusted his tie, trying his best not to draw attention as he walked through the door and stepped passed the women as the whistled teasingly at him.

In the house was the smell of feces and piss, with meth-addicts resting on crusty couches shivered and took more hits to numb the pain. He walked up to one of them, a near-emaciated teenager covered in scabs as he looked at Conan with dead eyes.

"Hello, I am looking for a Mr. Quatermain," said Conan, speaking in fluent Spanish, "Heard he is residing here."

"Yeah, man, he's upstairs! First door to the right" the meth-head growled out, "Tell him he owe me ten-fifty, fucking fag weasel." Conan bowed slightly and turned away quickly, trying to ignore the prying eyes at him as he made his way up the stairs to his destination.

He slowly opened the door to reveal a room nearly empty, only a dirty semen-stained mattress with a living corpse laying on it. That living corpse was the Quatermain he was looking for.

He looked around his forties, incredibly lithe and gaunt with dirty blonde hair and a small scraggy beard. His arm was covered in puncture marks and tattoos, a large scab on his upper lip, and sunken eyes. He wore only a dirty grey tank top and a pair of stained boxer shorts as he was like a dead corpse, laying on the mattress with a used needle in his limp hand.

Conan looked at him in disbelief and disappointment, shaking his head slightly as he walked closer to him. He attempted to be quiet, not to provoke him in his state.

"Uh…Mr. Quatermain?" let out Jimmy Kudo, slowly getting closer and speaking in English. The man opened his eyes, dilated and tired as his green eyes looked at the boy standing above him. Jimmy Kudo sighed and said, "Mr. Quatermain. I have been sent by the British Government to ask for your aid in a dire situation."

"…Shut up…" growled the man, "…Go home…kid…I am dead…"

"Listen, I was sent to pick you up and enlist you and…" ordered Conan, before growling and grabbing the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, "Why did they send me to deal with this meth-head?"

Conan sighed again and said, "Are you not a Quatermain? Aren't you not suppose to be this…Great White Hunter that your family boasts so much about?"

"…I am not…an idiot…" growled Leonard Quatermain as he slowly closed his eyes, "…Now get lost…before I beat the shit out of you…I am dead…I am always dead…"

Conan glared at him and said angrily, "Fine…but I will be back with a man in red. He'll convince you to get your lazy ass up. I know he will."

Leonard sputtered his lips as Conan calmly yet angrily walked out of the room, leaving the dead Great White Hunter to his drug-induced maze. He walked past the room of meth-heads and back outside, with the sun nearly blinding him.

He sighed and began to walk back to the docks, but was suddenly stopped by a swift punch to the side of his face. Conan yelled out as he flew right to the ground, blood sputtering out his mouth with the taste filling his buds. He weakly got up with a whine as he looked up, looking in fear as a figure stood above him with a raised fist, then slamming it down and knocking the detective unconscious. People looked in fear but were afraid to do anything about it, or just didn't care. The three men standing over the unconscious boy glared down at him as they stood like statues. Men in black suits, standing over the knocked out detective without moving an inch.

"Take the boy, then kill him," said one of the men, "Then find the meth-addict and put him out of his misery." As soon as he finished his sentence, a loud bang was heard as blood gushed from the side of his head along with a bullet. He fell down on the ground as the others looked at his body with concern, with the second shot down in the heart and a third in the groin. Number two fell on the ground clutching his wound as everything grew dark as Number three fell on his knees and shivered in pain as he grabbed his bleeding crotch. The shooter was none other than Leonard Quatermain, holding a rifle in hand as onlookers looked at him in shock.

Leonard shambled over to Conan, falling to his knees and clutching Conan's coat. "Hey…wake up…were you…were you telling the truth?" groaned Leonard, "Does…the British government really need me?"

Conan looked up wearily, seeing Quatermain over him and shaking him softly as the drugged-up hunter looked at him with tired eyes. "Eghhhh…" was all Conan could say, trying to warn him of the man looming over Quatermain. He couldn't even do anything but tremble as Leonard was grabbed and yanked up with the gun falling from his weak fingers.

"Gah! What!? LEMME GO!" he roared in paranoid anger.

"No way, hombre!" laughed the scabbed-man that Conan talked to not so long ago, "You better pay what you owe!"

"I'll kill you! Let go!" roared Leonard in bloodlust, yet unable to defend himself, "I swear to God! I'll fucking kill you! Dammit!" He was then slammed into the ground, the wind knocked out as he laid on his stomach. He groaned as he tried to get up, but a boot to the back kept him from getting up.

"Hey man, you say you pay back for the meth you got," growled the man with a sadistic grin on his face, "Now, pay up…or do I have to make you my bitch!? Huh! Bitchy Englishman Quatermain my…bitch! Ha!"

Before this equally drugged man could yammer on, he was sent flying by a swift bullet to the stomach, sending him flying back a few ten feet by the impact. "Is that…Quatermain!?" called out a voice, Conan looked up to see a blonde-haired woman in a blood-red police uniform carrying a large tank rifle as if it weighed nothing. This woman looked at the emaciated man getting up from the ground in disbelief and disappointment. Her eyes were blue, and had a strange bandage covering her arm, with a long symbol running down the tape.

"Uh…yeah?" let out Conan weakly. The woman looked down and quickly ran to Jimmy Kudo, picking him up and asking in sincerity, "Oh dear! Are you alright? Who did this?"

"Those…men in black…' moaned out Jimmy, "Quatermain…killed two…wounded one…" The woman, Sera Victoria, looked to see the man in black shivering in pain. She glared and set Conan down on the ground, walking over to the man threateningly.

The man quickly spun around and shot at her wildly, bullet wounds showing up as the bullets passed through her without fazing her. "Oh stop it! Those bullets won't work on-"

She stopped when she saw the man give up…and shoot himself through the chin and brain. Sera looked at him with surprise, then groaned in annoyance and said with disbelief, "Oh no! Alucard is gonna kill me. I go waste time like that? When I could'a gotten important information! Dammit!"

Leonard slowly got up, groaning in pain as he spat up yellow vomit from his mouth as he let it crust up on his beard. He looked up at Seras like a wounded dog as she looked down at him with pity and shame.

"Are you…sure?" she let out in disbelief.

"Don't…patronize me!" barked Quatermain as he stumbled up, "I am…Leonard…Quatermain! I just…I just…I just…I-"

"Oh for crimminy's sake!" groaned Seras, holding Jimmy like a sleeping child as she reached out and grabbed the whining hunter's hand roughly, "We need to go! Now stop your moanin'!"

Seras yanked Leonard by the wrist as she raced across the city, running past pedestrians like a convict from the police. Leonard groaned as he tried to keep up, his feet tumbling in the attempt as he began to violently sweat.

"Uh! Stop!" groaned Quatermain as he was dragged, "Stop. It hurts. I feel sick…"

"I can't stop, Mr. Quatermain!" shouted back a frustrated Seras, "I was sent to get you two to the docks because you both took too long."

"Who's bright idea was to send a kid into a den full of animals?" growled an annoyed and hurt Conan Edogawa.

"Alucard said you could handle it!" shouted back Seras, glaring at him as she flew across the city with great speed, "Besides, you only LOOK like a child, remember?"

"…Yeah…of course," sighed out Conan, forgetting that himself.

"I can't keep up! This is hopeless," whined Quatermain, with his feet floating from the velocity from time and again, "I can't go with you. Where will I get my meth?"

"Shut up! Be a man, for goodness sakes!" berated Seras angrily, "I'd leave you and your whinin' arse here if the Empire didn't ask for you specifically by surname."

She finally stopped at the docks, wooden with the ocean winds blowing towards them. She let go of Quatermain's wrist, only for him to fall on his knees and pant loudly before her in tire. "I…I need to rest…I can't go on…"

Seras ignored his whining as she set Conan down, the man-child struggling to keep up as he looked around with the fledgling. "I can't see it anywhere. Alucard said not to be late and…they are the ones who are late."

"It's hypocritical, isn't it," sighed Conan, looking at Quatermain as he laid on the wooden deck and pressed his fingertips against the water. He sighed and shook his head, "To think, the stories I've heard of his predecessors…and to see a Quatermain now…like this. It doesn't bode well."

"Indeed," groaned Seras, shaking her head in disappointment, "I was expecting this Great White Hunter…not-"

"Bubbles?" gurgled Quatermain, as bubbles formed at his fingertips. The two looked at him, with Conan smiling in relief.

Quatermain leapt back in ear and sat on the wooden deck as he saw a metal monstrosity arise from the water before him. It was a titanic submarine, decorated like a whale with a giant squid writhing on top of it. The whale was jet black, with tired vengeful eyes of ruby glass. The squid above it was golden plated, with the longer tentacles wrapped around the whale's eyes in a symmetrical duality.

Quatermain watched in horror as the door swung down on the deck, revealing the nosferatu sent to get him himself, Alucard. Alucard stood above Quatermain with a dark smile as the latest Great White Hunter looked at him with a quivering lip.

"Must I do everything myself?" hissed Alucard amusingly, "Didn't I agree on this…League so that I could have others handle menial tasks like this?"

Seras helped Quatermain up as the hunter continued to look at the vampire in terror, disappointing Alucard slightly. "Sorry, sir. Men in black came and gone attacked us. Leonard Quatermain, hard to believe, saved this boy from them," she said as she dragged the man inside with Conan following her.

"We would have been here sooner, but this so-called Great White Hunter refused at first," argued Conan as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. The five moved down a long metal hallway to a large engine room where many pirates were hard at work. The crew ranged from Somalian to Arabic to Indian and to even Chinese, with machetes and automatics strapped to them as they all glared at the newcomer with suspicion and distaste.

"Don't worry, friends," sighed Alucard in slight disappointment, "This is the man we've been looking for…I assure you."

The group led themselves to the cockpit, which also fancied itself as a parlor. Two large oval windows let the sun in as a figure stood, looking out with contempt for the land. Seras laid down Quatermain on a large green couch as he groaned and clutched his arms, shaking violently.

"What have you brought to my ship?" asked the figure, "…Is this the descendant of the famed Allan Quatermain?"

"Yeah…it is," replied Seras nervously, scratching the back of her head, "I think."

"Where to next, Captain Nemo?" asked out Conan Edogawa, still rubbing his face.

"America. East Coast," replied Nemo quickly, "We should get there in five to eight days."

"Wouldn't it be quicker by air?" Seras asked the captain. Said captain turned to her, walking to Seras and revealing herself more clearly.

She was a tall yet petite woman with dark skin and an evil glare. Her black hair hand two scraggy bangs against her face and strands of wiry hair beating against her forehead. Her hair was padded under a Navy Captain's hat, tattered with specks of blood on the once white cap. Her attire included a long blue Navy Captain's jacket with bloodstains at the bottom and cuffs, underneath a dark grey tank-top that exposed her neck.

She wore ten belts that reached from her waist to her stomach, all with small guns attached to each. Along with these guns were two scimitars attached to each side that seemed to scream, "Pirate". Underneath these cadre of belts were a pair of black slacks with blood-staining the ends as black leather boots jutted from them.

The last descriptive piece of this Witch of the Seas were her eyes. Eyes that almost looked completely black as she glared at them, with the eyes of a demon. The eyes of a shark.

"The sea is my home, you are welcome to leave and 'fly', but I will not follow you into such an abyss," she growled harshly, "Besides, we are to meet this Sir Integra in Brazil, yes?"

"Very correct, my good captain," acknowledged Alucard with a smirk, "Don't worry, Captain Nehal Nemo, you are just as needed as the Great White Hunter over here."

"…Goddd…damn…it…" groaned said hunter, clutching his stomach as he shivered in pain, "I need…I need my medicine. I'm in a lot of pain…"

Nehal stood before Quatermain with a dark glare inspecting his ruined body, then saying with a dark hiss, "I have much more effective medicines, Englishman. Medicines and practices that will purge that sickness from your body."

"Wuh…uh…" groaned Leonard, looking up at her with weak eyes as his skin sweated intensely, "You…where am I? Am I in Hell? Are you…the devil? Who…who are you?"

This question caused her glare to soften by a margin, with a small frown and a tightened fist.

"…No one…I am no one…"

The Banana Slug: A reiterating pattern. A descendant of the Great White Hunter. A descendant of the Science-Pirate. A descendant of the Invisible Man. And an admirer of Sherlock Holmes…and Dracula.

What is this seventh member that Bond has spoken of? Will it be the descendant of the fabled Doctor Jekyll and/or Mr. Hyde?

Haha. Nope. But just as good. Haha.

…Hopefully…