Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes

The phrase "Mr. Dubois's land" indicates which side of the Ghost Lake, leaving some barely any information.

With these three key pieces of information combined, Tom, a wealthy man with ample data, could narrow down the location significantly, with an error margin of almost no more than 100 meters.

The only concern now is whether this area has suffered any damage, which could render the information ineffective.

However, he had researched the area before setting off. It was an undeveloped swamp with few people, and probably only zoologists would be interested in it, occasionally watching American alligators bare their teeth and doing some research.

As long as you have a gun, you're not afraid of those crocodiles coming after you and causing you to roll around in agony.

A few hours later, the road conditions worsened.

After driving for a while, the vehicle finally stopped at the edge of a desolate cypress grove on the west bank of Mirror Lake, far from any human habitation.

The tall cypress trees grew in clusters, but they weren't exactly shady; instead, the air was unbearably hot and humid, filled with the damp smell of decay. The surroundings were so quiet that only the chirping of insects and birds could be heard; there were no other sounds of people or vehicles.

Tom was pushed out of the truck, and he squinted as he looked at the cypress-lined slope in front of him.

Very good. This place is completely undeveloped. Whatever the situation was two hundred years ago, this place probably wouldn't have changed much now.

Especially that gentle slope, which isn't very big, will require much less work than expected.

After all, he only had two bodyguards and one black man with him, and if the scope were expanded, the time it would take would increase exponentially.

The rest of the family couldn't wait for him to die so they could divide the inheritance. If the extraordinary opportunity was real, they would kill him first; they simply couldn't trust him.

In reality, he didn't even trust those two bodyguards, but he had no better options.

Under Tom's direction, the car slowly drove into a slightly sheltered area, and then the two bodyguards and Smith began to work.

Following Tom's directions, they quickly selected a lakeside location, a gentle slope surrounded by several exceptionally thick old cypress trees. This spot was not only in the center of the slope but also stood out from the crowd.

The chainsaw roared as it cut down the obstructing tree roots, followed by the tedious and arduous digging.

The soil was shoveled out one scoop at a time, making the pit deeper and deeper. Sweat soaked through the bodyguard's shirt. Smith was the first to give up, collapsing on the edge of the pit, panting heavily, complaining that this was no human job, but his eyes were fixed on the bottom of the pit.

Neither the two bodyguards nor Tom forced him to continue working, because of the four men, only Smith, blinded by wealth, was unaware that he was doomed.

Although the two bodyguards also had their doubts, they considered that Tom was old and frail and needed someone to take care of him. If they died here, Tom would not be able to go back at all.

That's why I felt relatively at ease, but I was still a little cautious.

As darkness fell, searchlights were set up, and under the beam of light, the bottom of the pit was already two meters deep.

clang!

A strange sound, accompanied by the scraping of metal against stone, came from a bodyguard's shovel, which seemed to have struck something hard.

Just when he thought it was another rock, he dug two more shovels nearby and unearthed a flat stone slab-like object.

It clearly doesn't look like it was formed naturally.

This scene acted like a shot of adrenaline, instantly reviving the limp Smith.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" He took the lead, his shovel flying.

The three men, as if injected with adrenaline, frantically expanded the digging area, sending dirt flying everywhere.

Finally, a rectangular outline covered with damp soil came into view; it was an old-looking stone coffin.

The edges of the coffin lid were carved with indistinct patterns, which looked sinister under the strong light.

A muddy, rusty smell wafted through the air. Sensing something was wrong, the two bodyguards stopped Smith and dragged him to the edge of the pit.

Several people climbed out of the deep pit, covered in dirt, their chests heaving violently, their eyes, a mixture of greed and fear, lingering over the stone coffin.

Even Tom, who had been trying to remain calm, felt his heart pounding wildly in his failing chest, his body burning with heat, and his dry throat making a hoarse sound.

An opportunity! The opportunity that we have been searching for, the opportunity that transcends life and death, is right before our eyes!

"Open it!"

Tom's voice was hoarse and distorted, bordering on madness: "If there's a supernatural secret inside! I, Tom Benson, swear to God in the name of my family! Each of you three will receive twenty percent of my assets, and you can share even this supernatural secret!"

This promise instantly ignited the desire in Smith's eyes and also made the two bodyguards waver.

"People die for money"—a profound truth.

"Quick, what are you waiting for?! Let's push it away together!"

Smith was the most impatient, for the sarcophagus contained the glorious future he had once longed for but could never have attained.

He was the first to jump into the pit, using all his strength to hold up the heavy coffin lid.

The two bodyguards exchanged a glance, and tempted by the enormous wealth and extraordinary secrets, they gritted their teeth and jumped down to help.

They pried open the gap with shovels, and the three of them worked together, roaring as they pushed the cold, heavy stone slab.

Crunch.

The sound of friction echoed through the forest.

Just as the coffin lid was pushed open with a crack large enough to peek inside, none of the three noticed that Smith, seemingly due to excessive force, had slashed his arm across an inconspicuous, sharp edge on the edge of the stone coffin. Blood gushed out instantly, dripping onto the surface of the stone coffin and seeping in through the crack.

Fueled by adrenaline, Smith was completely unaware that he had been scratched.

Tom, who was above, could see clearly, but his eyes flickered, and he didn't offer any warnings, simply continuing to stare intently at the coffin.

The coffin lid was pushed open completely.

Inside, there was only a huge, dark red, cocoon-like object, about the size of a person, lying quietly at the bottom of the stone coffin.

Its surface emitted a faint red glow, but there were no signs of life, such as breathing or heartbeat.

The scene was so bizarre that the two bodyguards' pupils constricted, and their professional instincts made them instantly sense danger.

They almost instinctively stepped back, their hands reaching for the guns at their waists.

"This is the secret of the extraordinary! I'm going to be rich!"

Smith, however, was completely blinded by greed. Upon seeing this extraordinary existence, he screamed with ecstasy and instinctively reached out to touch the dark red blood cocoon.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the surface of the cocoon,

The once dormant blood cocoon suddenly erupted with countless slender, dark red threads, shooting out from the surface of the cocoon and instantly wrapping around Smith's outstretched arm. The threads then spread wildly, enveloping his entire body in the blink of an eye, turning him into a writhing red thread dumpling.

"Woo——!!"

Smith only managed to let out a short scream before his mouth was tightly blocked by the rush of red silk, turning it into a muffled groan.

Immediately, his body shrank at a visible speed, and the blood in his body seemed to be frantically drawn out by those red threads, flowing along the threads into the blood cocoon in the stone cocoon.

The light of the blood cocoon intensified as blood was injected, and clear undulations appeared inside, like a heart being awakened.

"go!"

The bodyguard was terrified and desperately tried to climb out of the pit.

However, when their horrified gazes turned to the edge of the pit, their bodies suddenly froze on the spot.

Tom Benson, who was in a wheelchair, had somehow managed to stand up unsteadily.

That face, covered with age spots and on the verge of death, was now filled with fervent excitement.

He was now holding two pistols, the muzzles pointed at the two bodyguards at the bottom of the pit.

"Go in peace."

Tom's finger pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The gunshot rang out like firecrackers, the magazine was emptied quickly, and the two unsuspecting bodyguards were instantly hit, blood splattered, staining the pit walls and the stone coffin below.

The two bodyguards stared in disbelief as they lay in pools of blood and mud. They hadn't expected that the old man had been putting on an act all along, and wasn't nearly as weak as he had appeared.

Moreover, the timing was perfect; they fired just as the victims were panicking and fleeing, their attention completely focused on the strange blood cocoon.

The gunfire ceased, and two more corpses appeared in the crater. Soon, these two corpses were bound together with silk threads and turned into mummies as well.

Tom knelt down with a thud at the edge of the pit, facing the blood-soaked cocoon that had absorbed the blood of the three men and now seemed alive, and cried out in trembling, broken French: "Great Immortal! This is my humble servant's offering to you! Please enjoy!"

Tom didn't know what this extraordinary thing was, but using the word "immortal" would probably be correct.

At the bottom of the pit, three corpses, completely shriveled and reduced to skin and bones, were wrapped in red silk and hung above the stone coffin, resembling dried meat.

puff!

The blood cocoon began to crack from the top.

A figure slowly sat up from the middle.

The figure was dressed in a Baroque-style gown with elaborate lace trim and metal embellishments, like a noblewoman who had stepped out of an 18th-century court painting.

A dark red mist of blood completely enveloped his head, obscuring Tom's face.

“Mary, your offering is late.”

Tom could barely understand, then his whole body trembled violently, and at that moment he instantly understood.

The reason why the words in blood appeared on Mary's tombstone may be that some attribute of Smith met the specific offering requirements needed by the recipient.

Overwhelmed by a mixture of ecstasy and fear, Tom collapsed to the ground, screaming with his last ounce of strength.

"Honorable Immortal, please forgive me! I am not Mary; she has been dead for many years. It is now 2040, and I, the lowly Tom Benson, offer everything to become your new servant! The new Mary!"

Two more points of light appeared on the blood mist above Tom's head, as if they were sizing him up.

"2040, huh? What right do you have to replace Mary?" His tone was indifferent.

Overjoyed, he knew that success or failure hinged on this moment, so he spoke rapidly, revealing all his value.

“I am wealthy and have deep connections in both the legal and illegal worlds of Louisiana. As long as I live, I can provide you with anything you need! And my loyalty is absolute; I will obey you without question, and I will have the power of life and death over you without any disloyalty! I am willing to be your humblest servant, your companion on your journey through the world!”

The blood mist surged, seemingly in thought. After a moment, the hoarse voice rang out again, tinged with amusement:

"Hehehe, I like your greed."

Ethan Reno, disguised as the so-called immortal, sneered inwardly. It seemed that everything was going smoothly. It was worth all the effort he had put in to dig this big pit for Tom to fall into.

His ability makes it incredibly convenient for him to impersonate a vampire.

"Prove your worth first."

"Take five Scorpios, five Taureans, and sacrifices who have killed people, and throw them into the Ghost Lake."

Without the slightest hesitation, Tom trembled with excitement, as if he had received a divine decree: "Yes, my master! I will do it immediately!"

The figure in the blood mist seemed to nod in satisfaction.

Ethan doesn't actually need the blood of these ordinary people, but since he's going to pretend to be a vampire, he might as well do it convincingly.

He didn't ask for any vampire-selected virgin blood, because nowadays virgins are probably only found in elementary schools, and Tom's eagerness might cause some uncontrollable commotion.

So why not just be a vampire with a unique taste and let him find even more rampant murderers? After all, no one can prove that vampires necessarily like a certain type of blood.

Murderers are perhaps easier to find than virgins, and their disappearances are hardly noticeable.

It doesn't sound that infuriating.

Then, Ethan waved his hand, and a clump of blood, carrying a bottle containing a murky red liquid, hovered in front of Tom.

"You are not yet qualified to become my servant." After saying that, Ethan's figure was suddenly enveloped in blood mist, turning into a wisp of bloody dust that shot into the sky and disappeared into the night fog of the forest.

Tom reached out with trembling hands and carefully cradled the bottle.

This is holy spring water. Ethan plans to follow Tom's example and gradually select suitable candidates from among America's wealthy and powerful to build a foundation organization, using immortality as bait.

Tom drank it down without hesitation, and a cool and invigorating stream of air instantly rushed into his internal organs and limbs.

The decaying organs seemed to be infused with new vitality, and the drowsy mind became much clearer.

Although it certainly wasn't as exaggerated as rejuvenation, the return of that long-lost vitality almost made him want to roar to the sky.

"Hahahaha!" Tom suppressed his laughter and burst into convulsive laughter. The eerie laughter echoed along the quiet lake, scaring some of the crocodiles on the shore into retreating into the water.

It took him a while to stop laughing, and his eyes almost instantly turned sinister.

No, we can't be too happy yet. The other party's behavior is already quite obvious; they are a vampire. Becoming their familiar might grant us immortality.

As for the price, everything has a price, and he understood this principle early on.

Tom struggled to his feet and picked up the shovel from the ground.

He didn't look at the three mummified corpses at the bottom of the pit. Instead, he began to shovel the soil back into the pit, burying the stone coffin and all the traces, along with the crime he had just committed, under the cypress slope.

The night was deep, concealing everything.

After savoring the long-lost fatigue from exercise, Tom started the van and disappeared into the gloomy woods.

In just two days, Tom demonstrated his influence and power in Louisiana, both in the legal and illegal spheres.