Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes

This was the identity he planned to assume: Baron Gilles de Rais.

A comrade of Joan of Arc, he held the title of Marshal of France. After Joan of Arc's execution, he retreated to the Château de la Marchecourt, where he became obsessed with alchemy and black magic. In 1440, he was burned at the stake for heresy and murder.

The only risk is that the imposter might run into the real deal.

However, even if this person was truly extraordinary, it would be difficult for him to survive as long as Ashiya Dōman.

If he were to run into the original owner of this body who had come back to life, then he would accept it.

Furthermore, if they were to actually meet, and he could win, then if he claimed to be Baron Rice himself, who would dare to deny it?

"Since Georgia can't get involved, we should pay more attention to the situation in our state; he might be hiding here too."

"I hope he still remembers me, his old friend."

In terms of the number of plantations, Louisiana did indeed have quite a few, and there was even a famous tourist attraction called Oak Estate. However, it was quite far from Andersonville Concentration Camp, which didn't quite fit the background setting of the game Silver Cup Manor, where the six players were prisoners of war in a concentration camp.

The most likely scenario is that it's in Georgia or a neighboring state.

Fortunately, the Reynolds family, to which he was born, was based in Georgia and wielded considerable influence, enabling them to obtain some inside information.

Ultimately, society is made up of individuals. As long as a person wants to enjoy the conveniences of human society, it is impossible for them to exist without any social relationships.

Real-world disasters are only relative to ordinary people; for officials and those extraordinary individuals, risks and rewards always go hand in hand.

It's just a few insignificant civilians dying. Let them protest a few times, have a few free purchases, and it'll all be over.

Ethan was happy to see the game's setting take place in America. Chaos was a good weapon to break the order, and only when chaos spread could he fish in troubled waters and learn from it.

This is also why he chose to invest in Arthur, the new player, in advance.

He originally wanted to invest in 'Park', but the other party's personality was extremely suspicious. Despite the anger in his eyes, he was wary of everyone and didn't trust anyone.

Furthermore, since he was from the Southern Dynasty, even if he caused chaos, it would be difficult to affect North America. Therefore, after confirming that Arthur was an Amis, he was no longer in a hurry to get in touch with Park.

Based on the usual timeline, the actual disaster should be imminent.

"You can start preparing now; I need a new blood sacrifice."

Ethan put some pressure on Tom.

“Besides you,” Ethan continued, his tone flat, “I’ve also found a decent servant. This time, he’ll be preparing the offerings alongside you.”

Tom's breathing quickened instantly, and a perfectly timed look of panic appeared on his face, or rather, he had to appear flustered.

"My lord! My loyalty to you is unbreakable even in death! I..." he eagerly expressed his loyalty.

Ethan ignored him.

Unless Tom himself is under certain death, he is unlikely to rebel at present.

However, the Benson family alone was not enough to support his subsequent, less-than-humane experimental programs.

Therefore, while everyone's attention was drawn to Georgia, he used his last bottle of holy spring water to successfully bring the head of a deeply entrenched family in California into the Immortal Life Foundation.

If Amy causes trouble, his experiments won't attract much attention.

In fact, Ethan felt he was being a bit too cautious, since many large families were now openly and blatantly arresting homeless people.

One second they were demonstrating how to fold fentanyl, and the next second they were stuffed into a van and taken away.

To contribute one's share to various scientific or mystical experiments.

As long as the people arrested don't go too far, the authorities will pretend not to see it, because they are the ones who crack down the hardest!

The authorities, who were originally cracking down hard on illegal immigrants, have now started setting up reception camps at the border for the first time ever, where you can even get two free donuts when you go in.

Many illegal immigrants who had endured countless hardships to arrive, and some of whom had even been force-fed cream puffs by Mexicans along the way, were moved to tears as they ate donuts and praised America as a true beacon of humanity, saying even the sand was sweet.

But once they go inside, it's hard to say where they'll be taken.

The following day, while neighboring Georgia was turned upside down, Florida, a land of outstanding people and abundant resources, remained as relaxed as ever.

August is the hottest time of year here.

The heat waves rising from the ground were sticky like syrup. The high temperature and humidity made you sweat profusely after just a few steps on the road.

Unfortunately, even in this kind of weather, the police officers still have to patrol the scorching roads in their cars.

"You piece of shit, is this air conditioner part of the United Auto Workers? You love striking so much, take this!"

Officer Mike pounded on the center console in frustration. The air coming out of the vents was hot, like a sauna, and his uniform shirt was soaked with sweat.

Jess, in the passenger seat, took off his police hat, fanned himself vigorously, and said irritably, "Hasn't this always been your personal car? Why didn't you take it to get the air conditioning fixed? In this kind of weather, not having air conditioning is tantamount to murder."

"You were fine yesterday, but you're already dead as soon as you come on." Mike said rudely.

"Heh, this car broke down because it couldn't stand your mouth, which is as smelly as a lizard's foot. After being with you for ten years, it must have been thoroughly pickled."

Jess, not to be outdone, retorted sharply.

"Wow, you smell almost half as good as me then," Mike retorted casually. Unable to stand the stuffy carriage any longer, Mike simply opened the window.

Instantly, hot air swept in, and I felt every pore desperately opening to dissipate heat.

"This is really bad." Just as Jess was about to grin and complain, a sound came from the control panel.

“A crocodile attack has occurred in the South City Swamp area. One citizen has been dragged away, and two citizens are currently in a standoff. The address has been marked. Unit 7 is 2 miles from the target. Assist immediately. Units 4 and 5, approach from the northwest and block the nearby entrances and exits. Unit 7 will be in charge of handling the scene.”

Jess and Mike exchanged a glance.

"Unit 7 received, en route to the scene!"

Mike grabbed the radio to respond, and at the same time swerved the steering wheel. The police car swerved on the road, leaving a black mark, and sped towards the red dot marked on the map.

With the police lights flashing, he disregarded his own safety. Jess quickly checked his pistol ammunition, ready to kill the alligator immediately.

edge of the southern swamp area

The police car almost drifted to a stop on the muddy side of the road.

Mike and Jess quickly drew their guns and jumped out of the car; they could already vaguely see figures in the distance.

As they approached, they saw a crocodile, estimated to be over six meters long, clinging tightly to a man's shoulder by the murky swamp, dragging and swinging it wildly.

Judging from the evenly distributed mud covering the man's body, the crocodile must have performed a fatal roll.

The man let out a heart-wrenching scream, and blood stained the ground red.

Not far away, there were two men, one wearing a floral shirt and beach shorts, and the other sitting in a wheelchair, seemingly carrying out a rescue.

The man in the floral shirt brandished a golf club, circled around the crocodile's back, and pounded it repeatedly while yelling, "You damn thing, let go of my boyfriend!"

The man in the wheelchair became even more ferocious. Seizing the moment when the crocodile shook its head again, he roared and spun his wheelchair forward at full speed, crashing into the crocodile's face.

The crocodile was finally enraged and violently tore off the injured man's arm, about to bite the man in the wheelchair.

But the wheelchair-bound man performed a medical miracle on the spot, his legs, which were in casts, moved with incredible speed, widening the distance between them.

The crocodile could only bite the wheelchair.

The bitten man screamed and rolled to the side; his arm was broken, and bone fragments were exposed.

"Police! Stand back!"

Mike and Jess rushed forward, guns raised, their muzzles locked on the crocodile that was somewhat dazed from being hit.

Its cloudy yellow eyes were fixed on the two policemen who had arrived, and it let out a hissing roar.

"Fire!"

Mike gave the order directly.

A barrage of gunfire erupted over the swamp, bullets rapidly emptied, and the crocodile's massive body writhed violently. Despite Lake Okechobi being right behind it, it did not flee but instead launched a desperate charge.

As Jess changed magazines, he yelled, "Shoot it in the head! Shoot it in the head!"

Mike held his breath, aimed at the crocodile's menacing yellow vertical pupils, and fired several shots.

A bullet pierced the crocodile's eye socket with pinpoint accuracy, and the excruciating pain caused the crocodile to contort its movements.

"Good job!"

The man in the floral shirt shouted excitedly and almost grabbed a golf club to rejoin the fray.

The man in the wheelchair was panting heavily, supporting his body with his hands behind him, watching the crocodile roll and struggle in the mud until it gradually went silent.

The gunfire ceased, and the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood.

"Quick, call an ambulance!"

Mike shouted to Jess, while scanning the surroundings warily to keep an eye out for other alligators.

Jess immediately called for backup and an ambulance, and quickly went to the injured man's side.

The man's face was ashen, and he pressed his hand against the edge of his arm, which had been nearly bitten off. He convulsed in pain, but he kept muttering to himself.

"Oh! Damn it, damn it! My hand! Can my hand ever be put back together? I can't accept masturbating with my left hand! It's so awkward!"

The man with the missing arm screamed.

The man in the floral shirt leaned closer and cupped his face in his hands: "Don't be afraid, I'm here for you!"

"@#%&," Jess cursed inwardly.

Very good, you still have the mind to think about this. It seems you won't die anytime soon.

However, he immediately used a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

On the other side, Mike frowned as he squatted down next to the dead crocodile.

This crocodile is larger than the common American crocodile, with thicker limbs, especially its hind legs, which seem more suited to running on land.

Moreover, its scales feel quite hard and have a metallic sheen.

An ordinary crocodile would have been riddled with bullets long ago after being shot so many times, but this one had a rather difficult time dying.

"Ha, let's not be so paranoid. It can't possibly have anything to do with supernatural beings, can it?"

Mike gave himself a pep talk and took out his police camera to take a few pictures.

With millions of alligators in Florida, it's not surprising that a few freaks would appear.

Perhaps it's a hybrid that escaped from some private farm? Anyway, with the hunting season approaching, the number of crocodile attacks should decrease significantly.

He stood up, stopped thinking about it, and began to deal with the scene, waiting for follow-up support and animal control to retrieve the carcass.

Not far away, a silent ripple spread across the murky surface of Lake Okechobe.

A pair of vertical pupils slowly emerged from the water, almost the same color as the water itself.

It stared silently through the water at the busy crowd on the shore and the crocodile carcass being dragged away.

Only after the body was loaded onto a vehicle and driven away did its eyes slowly close, and the massive black shadow silently sank into the lake and disappeared.

Chapter 274: The Need to Pray

The underground base of the Extraordinary Countermeasures Department.

The strategy team was extremely busy.

If an outsider enters the speedrun team's office area, the first thing they will smell is the strong aroma of caffeine and printer ink.

The whiteboard was covered with messy formulas and mysterious symbols, and the table was piled with thick copies of ancient books, with all sorts of random conjectures constantly converging.

The experts either stood alone, arms crossed, deep in thought, their brows furrowed; or they argued in small groups, sometimes tapping their fingers rapidly on the table when things got heated.

Time is of the essence here. Finding a way to get through the situation quickly could mean knowing how the disaster might happen sooner and taking preventative measures in advance.

This is also the significance of the speedrunning team's formation.

Having just finished a short meeting, Ping Shenglong walked past the experts who seemed oblivious to the world and pushed open the door to his private office.

The room was also filled with documents. Kurosaki Chimei was hunched over the only relatively tidy desk, his pen caps covered in teeth marks. In front of him were various draft papers filled with sketches of the manor's structure, rooms marked with question marks, and animal restraint relationships.

From time to time, the AI ​​is deployed to search for information that it lacks.

He had always been familiar with Eastern mysticism, but now that it's suddenly being brought up to the West, he doesn't know much about many aspects and has to start learning from scratch.

This isn't just his problem; many experts learn and reflect in this way.

Leon originally planned to give Kurosaki a high-ranking position so that he could oversee the research direction of the expert group.

It's a case of putting the right person in the right position; Kurosaki's keen intuition has always been proof of his ability.

However, he was not suited to leading a group of people, had little interest in power, and considered himself not proficient in Western mysticism, so he declined.