The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 4251 Possession by an Evil Spirit (Part 31)

This semi-basement space was very large, containing more than a dozen large iron cages. Half of them were filled with skeletons, and these were mummified corpses that were almost unrecognizable as human. Even more horrifying, many of the mummified corpses had their limbs scattered around, and they did not appear to have been removed after death.

Kent began to tremble. He didn't know whether it was out of fear or anger, because above the abdomen of the central skeleton, he saw a small skull and fragments of underdeveloped limbs—the body of a pregnant woman about to give birth.

For the first time, Kent felt what suffocation truly meant. It wasn't because he had lost his superpowers; he felt that even if he were still Superman, he would still be breathless in the face of this scene.

He instinctively took a few steps back and stood by the wall for several minutes to recover. Only when the dizziness subsided a little did he cautiously approach the nearest cage.

The basement was dimly lit. As he approached, he realized that all the skeletons were female, and they had suffered severe abuse before their deaths; some of the wounds were so deep that the bone was visible.

Clark Kent wasn't a great detective, nor had he received any criminal investigation training. However, based on what he could discern, he could roughly guess what was going on.

Not everyone is a lamb to the slaughter. Just as most superheroes are incredibly stubborn, there are some people in this world who are born with a strong resistance to brainwashing, and even the most seamless possession and deception cannot fool them.

These kinds of people are often stubborn and obsessive. If they sense something is wrong, they will investigate thoroughly. Even if it's an extremely remote and isolated town, they might still uncover the truth and leave with it, thus bringing the truth to light.

It's important to understand that over the years, the people trafficked here by the circus weren't just ordinary people. Circus tickets weren't cheap; in those days, those who could afford to watch a circus performance or follow the trend to join the fun in town were mostly from well-off families. Once the cultists' actions are discovered, the victims they face will be far beyond their capabilities.

So, the evil spirits won't let those who can't be brainwashed leave, because even their mere suspicions could attract more attention. And at that point, violence becomes the only option.

Logically, they should have been killed outright, but as mentioned before, the town was declining rapidly, with too few outsiders. If they couldn't replenish the population, inbreeding would destroy the town. Therefore, these victims, kidnapped through violence, were forced to reproduce under the cult's coercion.

Even setting aside the fact that the cult wouldn't let them live long, with such poor hygiene and nutrition, procreation is tantamount to murder. Kent finds it hard to imagine how many innocent people will die here.

After examining each body, Kent collected as many personal belongings as possible. The cultists seemed certain they couldn't escape and didn't confiscate anything too thoroughly. Kent found not only two driver's licenses, a necklace with his grandmother's image on it, a professional cycling watch, but even a tourist camera—a relatively advanced digital camera for its time.

Judging from the camera's style and quality, its owner was quite wealthy. Unfortunately, digital cameras require power to operate, and the battery was dead. No matter what Kent tried, it wouldn't work anymore.

Kent knew he had to find a way to charge his camera so he could take pictures of the place and let the world know what kind of tragedy had occurred.

After a while, Kent finally mustered up his courage and walked to the body of the pregnant woman in the very center. He stood there, panting for several breaths, before touching the skull of the tiny infant with trembling hands.

Then, as if electrocuted, he pulled his hand back and began to breathe heavily on the spot. He felt something trickle down his chin, and when he touched his cheek, he realized he was crying.

Kent clenched and unclenched his fists several times before finally picking up the tiny skull with trembling hands. He had to get the child out of there, immediately, without waiting a second longer.

He didn't know why he was doing this. Perhaps, the Kryptonians' innate yearning for the sun made it seem like the best way he could think of to comfort the dead was to take them to see the sun.

Kent was so overwhelmed by the shock that he walked very slowly. He didn't even dare to look at what he was carrying. He didn't feel fear, but rather a profound sense of despair and helplessness.

Because of this, he was a step too slow and was blocked at the entrance to the basement by the evil spirit.

The evil spirit seemed to have finally reached its limit; it no longer wanted to act. Because it absolutely could not give anyone who had witnessed this scene any chance to escape, otherwise, it would truly be over.

Before Kent could react, a burst of black energy shot straight at his face, sending him flying. He crashed heavily into the wall, then fell face-first to the ground. His nose hit the ground, and blood instantly gushed out.

He quickly scrambled to his feet and leaned against the wall, looking at the figure emanating black smoke blocking the entrance. He was certain that he had just been blasted away by some mysterious force.

Without thinking twice, Kent charged at the evil spirit before the black aura could spread, slamming it against the wall.

But just as he was about to raise his fist, he felt a sharp pain in his chest—the evil spirit's black hand had actually pierced his chest.

"Go to hell!" Kent heard the other person say.

Then, he watched helplessly as the other person's hand gripped his heart and ripped it out of his chest.

A massive amount of blood gushed out, and Kent collapsed in a pool of blood. The faint light filtering through the basement entrance shone on him, but it did not, as usual, revive Superman, allowing him to rise from disaster a thousand times over, transform into a god, and protect the weak.

But it seems some people think differently. Just as Kent felt his consciousness fading, he suddenly felt another kind of pain, as if something was biting his finger.

When you're just a step away from death, all pain usually fades, but this real pain pulled Kent back to his senses. He tried to raise his hand, but he had no strength; he only felt the thing biting his finger and then his palm. The pain spread up his arm: forearm, elbow, upper arm, shoulder, and finally his chest.

The pain in his chest was excruciating, as if a hand was constantly churning his flesh and blood, making Kent even think that it would be a good thing if death came sooner.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

The intense pain caused Kent to scream in agony. But just a second after the pain reached its peak, he found himself sitting up from the ground.

The pain subsided within seconds. Kent looked around blankly, sweat beading on his forehead and getting into his eyes, blurring his vision. He instinctively raised his hand to wipe the sweat, only to discover a wound on the palm of his right hand.

The wound was small, but the edges showed signs of tearing, and there were also many dense teeth marks, as if something had gnawed it. The wound was deep, looking like it was about to go through, but there was no wound on the back of the hand.

Kent was momentarily stunned into not understanding what was happening. He kept looking at his hand, wondering what had bitten him and why he hadn't died.

Suddenly he realized what was happening and began searching the ground around him. Sure enough, the baby's skull he had been clutching was gone.

Then he looked down at his chest. This terrified him; there really was a large hole in his chest. The image of the evil spirit tearing out his heart wasn't a hallucination. But something seemed to be beating inside that hole. Kent couldn't see it from his angle, but he vaguely guessed what it was.

“I’m sorry,” Kent said, “I’m no match for that devil. I should…”

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly heard whispers in his ear. The sounds were very chaotic, as if many people were speaking at the same time, but if Kent listened carefully, he could make out the content of each sentence:
"He's an evil spirit..."

"He practices dark magic..."

“That’s right, he can use witchcraft…”

"He was a sorcerer in his lifetime, and he sacrificed many people..."

"This earned him immortality..."

"There are two priests and two nuns in the town..."

"Only one person died..."

“They are all still alive, and some of them have descendants.”

"Be careful on moonless nights."

Most of the voices were women's voices, ranging from young to old, interspersed with the cries of children and the occasional deep voice of a man.

Kent touched his chest, then looked down in shock—the wound had healed completely, without leaving a trace. And if he listened intently, he could still hear the sound.

Just then, the camera that had fallen to the side when he was attacked suddenly started working on its own. "Click, click, click..."

Kent walked over and found that the digital camera screen was lit up. In the photo that had just been taken, displayed on the screen, Kent was standing at the entrance to the basement, a sliver of light shining on his face, and many people were standing around him.

There were young couples, women in cycling gear, a couple with cameras, and a family of four with two children. And on Kent's shoulders sat an extremely small baby.

Kent's hands began to tremble again. He clutched the camera tightly, as if grasping at a lifeline, and stood there catching his breath before slowly relaxing.

He slung the camera over his shoulder and stuffed the items he had just found on the corpses into his pockets. He then searched the entire room again, taking everything he could carry, even a bone from each person.

Then, he climbed out through the basement entrance. As the sunlight shone on him, he felt that long-lost sense of strength drawing from the sun, even more clearly and profoundly than he had felt before.