I made up myths in America

Chapter 110 Druid, Fall
It is already mid-November.

For the UK, which has a temperate maritime climate, winter is approaching, the season when all things begin to wither.

But now.
Under the dim moonlight blocked by dark clouds, Emma's villa covered with ivy and the pink verbena blooming on the lawn were simply challenging the fragile nerves of the surrounding neighbors.

In the Middle Ages, no other evidence was needed.

This extraordinary scene alone, coupled with Emma's mother's beautiful red hair, was enough to make their entire family happy to receive the one-stop cremation service.

Now, the male owners of the surrounding houses looked at each other silently, nodded apologetically to Emma's mother on the balcony opposite, and chose to take out their mobile phones to call the police.

"Woah woah -"

A short while later, police from Scotland Yard arrived.

Arriving with them were staff from the Agency for the Study and Prevention of the Paranormal, which was recently established by the British government.

The English abbreviation for this is the Special Division of BPRD, although it was established as early as a few weeks ago after the New York Cerberus incident.

But it was not until recently that they received great attention from the British government. Not only did they receive money and personnel, but they also allocated the Natural History Museum located in South Kensington, London to them.

This museum, which has a history of more than 200 years, had a very large base built underground during World War II in consideration of the possibility of being bombed by the German army, which was just right to be used as the headquarters of BPRD.

At this time, Agent Smith, who had recently been in charge of the group at Westminster Abbey to move the sarcophagi out of the Crusader crypts, immediately put down his work and rushed over after hearing that a real supernatural incident had occurred in Baker Street.

Seeing a middle-aged man and woman sitting anxiously on the sofa in the villa, pretending to be calm, he walked over with a smile, extended his hand, and introduced himself in a standard British accent, "Hello, Mr. Grant. I'm Smith Blackwood, a Level 6 Agent from the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. Just call me by my first name."

"Hello, Agent Smith."

Emma's father, Mr. Granger, took a deep breath, stood up, and shook hands with him.

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Granger. This is the 21st century. We won't be burning you at the stake."

Smith shrugged his shoulders, smiled amiably, and told a cold joke that any European could understand.

But unfortunately, neither Mr. or Mrs. Granger smiled because they were worried about their daughter.

Mr. Granger even stood up, his body faintly blocking the stairs to the second floor, obviously not wanting Smith to go up.

"Relax, you two."

Smith, who worked for MI6 before joining BPRD, could certainly understand their body language and the resistance they were showing.

He was not in a hurry. He sat on the sofa and talked to the two of them about the extremely high treatment given by the United States, the other country, to the extraordinary people in his department, as well as their BPRD's current eagerness to recruit talents.

These words eased the tension between Mr. and Mrs. Granger a lot. After looking at each other, they finally told the truth.

After seeing such a strange thing happen in their yard, the two of them rushed to their daughter's bedroom immediately.

But they couldn't get in at all.

Countless green ivy now surrounded his daughter Emma's room tightly, and they couldn't even open the door.

"Is that so?" Agent Smith nodded thoughtfully, his eyes sweeping across Mrs. Granger's beautiful long red hair.

At the same time, their conversation was transmitted to the BPRD headquarters in the underground base of the Natural History Museum in London through the micro-earphones worn by Smith.

"Dr. Henry, what do you think of this?"

Major General Patrick Kerry, who was airborne and in charge of the entire Paranormal Research and Defense Bureau, frowned and looked at Dr. Henry, the director of the Historical Research Department.

This old professor, who was rather plump, with only a few strands of hair stubbornly left on the sides of his head, and who had to wear a wig all year round, had a slight flush of excitement on his face as he looked at the photos taken by BPRD and made his own inference:

"This is very similar to the power possessed by druids in Celtic mythology. They were naturally close to nature, could manipulate and cultivate plants, and could communicate with gods and animals. In Celtic culture, they were regarded as prophets and sages."

"The family tree of the Grant family that we have found so far can also support this argument."

"Everyone on Emma Grant's mother's family has red hair, which is a standard symbol of Celtic ancestry. Often, both parents must be Celtic for their children to have pure red hair."

Dr. Henry seemed to be in high spirits and spoke a lot in one breath.

But Major General Patrick couldn't bear to listen to the professional terms that followed.

He raised his hand to interrupt, "Dr. Henry, that's enough. You can keep this knowledge to share with your students. What we need to do now is..."

The British major general suddenly stopped talking halfway, staring blankly at a huge black shadow in the sky that was accelerating downwards.

"That is?!!"

At the same time, the workers who were pumping out the water near Westminster Abbey were also stunned. They looked up stupidly and looked at the huge iron bird falling from the sky.

"There's a plane crash, run."

The next second, no matter what they were doing, the people gathered in front of Westminster Abbey dispersed.

And then a huge explosion sounded behind them.

boom! Boom boom! !
On the banks of the Thames, Westminster Abbey, which has a history of more than a thousand years and where kings of all dynasties were crowned, now has a huge hole.

In the Parliament building, which was about 200 meters away from the church, British officials who were holding an emergency meeting because of recent events stared blankly at the 'Grim Reaper' passing by them outside the window. After endless fear, they were filled with tremendous anger.

"Go check for me quickly and see which airline this flight is from!?"

Before British Prime Minister Rishi Sunak could say anything, Labour Party leader Keir Starmer slammed the table and yelled.

Rishi Sunak glanced at him without saying a word, silently praying for Vishnu's blessing in his heart.

At this time, the guards in the Capitol building had been dispatched, fully armed, and approached the plane wreckage in the church carefully.

Click, click, click——

As they stared in amazement, countless thick green vines stretched out from the ground, wrapping everyone in the cabin into a giant ball.

(End of this chapter)