214: Chapter 162: Offering Themselves Up (Additional Chapter 1 for the Alliance Leader ‘Praise of the Soul Reaper’)_3 214: Chapter 162: Offering Themselves Up (Additional Chapter 1 for the Alliance Leader ‘Praise of the Soul Reaper’)_3 As he arrived at the entrance of the estate, a pale-faced young man with curly hair, carrying a backpack nearly as tall as a person, was having an argunt with the guard and the police officer outside the manor gate, alongside a high-ponytailed brunette girl.
Hearing the noise of the motorcycle, they all stopped bickering and turned to look at the approaching Brian.
Brian pulled out his credentials from the Night Demon Foreign Affairs Departnt, “Temporary Investigator, I need to go in and take a look.”
One of the officers took the credentials and pulled out his phone to verify them, and after a mont, he returned them to Brian with respectful attitude, “Mr.
Brian, the situation inside is a bit special, please be aware of the need for protection.”
“Protection?”
“Yes, biohazard protection.
There are many diseased dead rats inside as well as plenty of flesh remains; there is a risk of infection until we carry out a biohazard cleanup.”
Hearing this, Brian let out a sigh of relief.
As long as it wasn’t nuclear radiation or biochemical toxins, other biological viruses basically posed little pressure on him.
In fact, even the elites from the training camp had higher resistance to common biological viruses than ordinary people.
In a sense, they, like the Mutants, were no longer considered normal humans.
…
After storing his credentials, Brian was about to enter through the small gate that had been opened when the man and woman who had been arguing with the police hurried over, “Good day, sir.
My na is Joseph, and I’m the heir to this estate.
I grew up here as a child.
Could I possibly co in with you?
I’m very familiar with the inside!”
Looking at the typical Englishman, Brian’s nose twitched slightly and, not sensing anything unusual about the two, he asked curiously, “There are dangerous things that have happened here; why do you want to go in?”
The pair didn’t look like wealthy people.
Especially the girl, who carried an air of street toughness about her, her eyes full of aggression and provocation as she looked at Brian—clearly not soone respectable.
Joseph seed completely oblivious to his companion trying to seduce the young man before them.
He sighed,
“Actually, this place hasn’t been abandoned, but rather it was mortgaged.
My elder brother, in his efforts to enter the network industry, exhausted the last of our family’s resources and mortgaged the place.
Unfortunately, it didn’t end well, and he later took his own life.
Just a few weeks ago, as I was sorting through the ancestral mansion, I discovered a secret ssage hidden in a painting fra by my grandfather.
It turns out that beneath the grounds of the estate lies a dungeon, where the wealth accumulated by my ancestors during the age of exploration is buried.
My brother mortgaged the surface, not the underground assets.
These should be the fortune of our family.
Then I sneaked in with so equipnt a few tis and have nearly searched the entire estate.
I’m just a bit away from that sum of money.
I have already pinpointed where the entrance is, but they won’t let in.
Sir, if you could take with you, once we find that treasure and remove the part for taxes, I can give you half of what’s left!”
“This lodramatic?”
Brian was about to say sothing when
A nearby police officer, in disbelief, interjected, “Kid, stop showing off that damn treasure story of yours.
When the governnt took over, they checked the place with state-of-the-art equipnt and found no so-called underground treasure.
It’s nothing more than a trick of yours to lure those foolish girls into bed.”
The gum-chewing girl popped a bubble carelessly, “Everyone knows about it.
But Joseph is quite good-looking; we’re willing to play this make-believe ga just for a chance to sleep with him, officer.
We’re very forward when it cos to handso guys.”
The officer: …
He moved to the side, closing in on himself.
The world is so unfair!
Joseph, still looking nervously at Brian.
Brian glanced at the ti and shook his head, “Listen, buddy, it’s really dangerous in there right now.
Not letting you in is for your own good.
If you want to live a good life, I suggest you find a wealthy widow to marry into.”
With that, he walked into the desolate estate under the boy’s disappointed gaze.
…
Crossing an area rampant with overgrown weeds,
he arrived at a small Angel fountain, where the stench of decay in the air suddenly intensified several tis over.
Brian remained unfazed and continued forward.
So battle scars started to appear before his eyes.
Among them were the chaotic bullet holes, shock bombs left uncleaned, smoke grenade shells abandoned, but most of all, the dense mass of dead rat corpses.
Those dirty old stone carvings and walls were covered in bloodstains and flesh muck.
Brian even saw a section of a rat’s tail stuck in the broken entrance door.
One could imagine how dreadful the scene of a group of rats strapped with explosives charging in must have been.
Passing through this bloody battlefield.
Brian finally reached the outermost hall of the mansion.
He prepared himself ntally, activated his enhanced sense of sll, and took a deep breath.
A myriad of strong odors surged into his nostrils.
The taste was indescribable.
“If I had known, I would have brought Shi San with …”
Suppressing the urge to vomit, Brian ignored the hall littered with traces of battle, moving swiftly toward a small chapel, following the distinct scent characteristic of black people.
This was due to the physiology of the human body.
Black people’s sweat glands are as developed as Asians’, and their apocrine glands, which influence body odor, are as nurous as those of Caucasians, making their body odor the heaviest among the three races.
In a predominantly white London, this beca the best guide.
…
The small chapel looked much cleaner, with no signs of battle, but the dust-covered floor was marked with shoe prints of similar styles but varying sizes.
Obviously, the Night Demon Organization had also thoroughly searched this area.
Brian wasn’t surprised by this.
The Night Demon Organization was the largest official special organization in the Federation, equipped with mutated organ transplant technology.
Mutated organs were, in fact, from the bodies of Mutants.
Brian didn’t know much about this, but given that so many countries’ official organizations valued it and continuously sent people for ‘further training,’ it was clear that this technique was special.
He pushed open the door.
Before his eyes was a strange sculpture.
Brian had seen it before in the sewers of Los Angeles; it was a totem of faith of the Original Sect.
He hadn’t expected these traitors to still rember their roots.
He walked up to the sculpture and studied it carefully.
Finally, his eyes brightened, and he reached out to delicately trace a pattern on the statue.
Unfortunately, Brian could only confirm that these not-so-old marks likely contained ssages ant to communicate sothing, but he couldn’t understand them.
He had been sowhat sick in the past, and after fulfilling the obsessions of the Original Sect believers, he had directly absorbed the crystal, only aware of so fragnted pieces.
Just as Brian was about to bring his nose close to catch any residual scents left on the patterns.
Suddenly.
He stopped his actions and frowned toward the door.
Pop~
The bubble sound burst.
A girl wearing jeans and sporting a ponytail appeared at the doorway, her brown eyes curiously looking at Brian, “How do you know the Original Sect’s totem communication thod?”
Brian’s eyes narrowed slightly, “How did you get in?”
“Walked in, obviously.”
The girl blew another bubble with her chewing gum, “You haven’t answered my question yet.
This is a communication thod exclusive to the Original Sect Priest.
Were Babu and the others captured?”
Hearing this, Brian showed a strange expression.
Was this soone presenting themselves to him?
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