All Gods: I am a master of all professions, who dares to oppose me?

As the only funeral home in Revansfield, the manor in front of us reflects the town's glorious past.

Tall stone pillars support a large gate at the entrance, and looking inside, you can see a large lawn and a garden with a fountain.

Of course, time has not been kind to this building either—the stone pillars are covered with mottled, peeling debris, the garden has withered vegetation, and the pointed-roof villa looks somewhat gloomy even in the daytime.

“We don’t usually say this name; we believe it’s cursed…you know?” an old man in a white shirt and black overalls said cautiously.

Inside the reception room, a beam of sunlight slanted down from the corner window.

"What's the name?" Jamie scoffed at the riddle-solving. "Mary Shaw?"

"I know nothing... I know nothing... I know nothing..."

Nearby, an elegantly dressed old woman holding a crow specimen began to shake her head and mutter something after hearing the name.

"Shh!!" The old man was so frightened that he was at a loss for what to do. He tried to cover Jamie's mouth, but Jamie dodged him.

“What do you know? We need help right now.” Jamie looked at the elderly couple with a hint of helplessness and said, “If we don’t find out the truth, my wife and I… might both die!”

Upon hearing this, the old man lowered his head and pondered for a while, then said to the somewhat mentally unstable woman beside him, "Marianne, go back to your room and rest for a while. I have something to say to them."

"It's alright, you can go back now."

The old woman gently stroked the crow specimen with one hand, stood up unsteadily, and walked upstairs.

“Alright, can we have a proper chat now? About Mary Shaw.” Jamie said, pulling a box from under his feet, opening the lid, and inside was a doll with its head mangled but its general shape still vaguely visible.

"About her dolls."

"You're even bolder than I imagined!" The old man rubbed his hands nervously. "Where did you get this doll?"

"And how did it get like this?"

Next, it was time for the two to share their stories and corroborate each other's points.

Jamie recounts how one day, an unknown person suddenly sent this doll to his apartment door, and the series of supernatural events that followed.

The old man, on the other hand, recounted a tragedy that occurred decades ago, when Revansfield was at its peak of prosperity—the murder of ventriloquist Mary Shaw by the townspeople, and the subsequent decades in which people were often found with their tongues cut out, leaving behind a doll at each scene.

As the story unfolded, Lisa held Jamie's hand tightly, and before she knew it, her palms were soaked with sweat.

As for our handsome Fangzai, he was observing his surroundings with boredom on the side—after all, Fangzai, who was familiar with the plot, not only did not want to join their discussion, but also had a bellyful of complaints he wanted to vent.

"Over the years, the town has become increasingly sparsely populated; those who could move away have already done so." The old man looked down at the coffee on the table, which had almost gone cold.

"I just didn't expect it to be able to chase me outside..."

"Also, you haven't explained why it turned out this way." The old man looked at the doll that had been reduced to rubble at his feet and asked with some confusion.

“This brings us to Dr. Fang,” Jamie solemnly introduced to the old man. “If it weren’t for Dr. Fang, Lisa and I might have met with some misfortune.”

"You are truly..." The old man rubbed his hands, looking at the handsome man in front of him, who was completely out of place with the terrifying atmosphere of their story, and for a moment he couldn't think of any words.

"What an amazing person you are! You are truly an amazing person." The old man extended both hands and asked somewhat nervously, "May I shake your hand?"

"Of course." Fang Chang smiled gently and extended his hand very naturally, unlike those professionals who discriminated against old men.

"So what do we do next?" Jamie suddenly asked.

"Next, we might have to have lunch first," Fang Chang said, stretching.

Since this morning, after several hours of driving, the three of them haven't eaten a single grain of rice.

“Um…that’s true. We’ll come back to visit again this afternoon,” Jamie said to the old man.

*

*

*

"I can feel it... that pesky aura of bloodline is getting closer and closer to us..."

In the pitch-black room, the fireplace was burning brightly.

The blonde woman stepped onto the thick carpet and came up behind the figure in the wheelchair.

She lowered her head, her cheek almost touching the face of the person in the wheelchair, and said softly, "Can you feel it? Your son has come, Edward."

no respond.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you sad?"

Apart from the slight noise of the burning firewood, the room was completely silent.

“Oh, I forgot, you’re just a defective product…you can’t speak…” the woman said, and then began to chuckle.

Her slender fingers traced Edward's cheek. "Shall we surprise your son together?"

The milky white, smooth fingers and the face covered with brown age spots reflected each other in the firelight, like a beautiful yet eerie oil painting.

*

*

*

In the afternoon, at the funeral home estate.

"Beep beep—"

At one corner of the manor, a few people gathered around a bonfire, watching the burning remains of the doll Billy, and a sense of peace involuntarily arose within them.

"So, there's nothing to be afraid of," Fang Chang said with a smile to the group.

"Can you recall if there were any other strange events you encountered in your life over the past 20 years before this incident?"

"It seems...not!" Jamie thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

"I don't either..." Lisa said weakly.

“That’s it,” Fang Chang continued, guiding the discussion further. “So, we can draw this conclusion.”

“Supernatural events are rare; the chances of them happening are extremely small,” Fang Chang said, clapping his hands. “Therefore, the majority of people in our world are still ordinary people!”

"As for these things... the fact that they can't dominate the mainstream means they're weak. Otherwise, why don't they just wipe out the entire town, or even the whole of America?"

"Relying on legends and rumors to frighten people, they only roam in the dead of night, fearing the sunlight..."

“Weak!”

"It's the only word I can think of to describe them."

“Is it possible… that this is some kind of rule they follow, that they don’t only come out at night, but rather prefer to come out at night?” Jamie frowned and offered his own interpretation.

"Rules?" Fang Chang chuckled softly.

The sky was dark, and the firelight illuminated Fang's long, angular profile, stretching the surrounding light and shadow, making it seem to pulsate as if it were alive.

"Those rules are simply... utterly inadequate in my eyes."

Jamie wanted to argue, but recalling how Fang Chang had crushed the eerie doll with one foot, he couldn't help but feel a sense of trust in Fang Chang's words.