American variety show world begins with subduing Jason

Just as the knife tip was about to touch his clothes, the man seemed not to have reacted and remained motionless. The black man breathed a slight sigh of relief. This guy must be a psychopath who had suddenly gone mad. He just seemed to be strong and had no fighting experience.

But in that slight moment of relaxation, his vision blurred, and a silver-gray light seemed to rush in, accompanied by a violent gust of wind. Immediately afterward, a strong but brief pain quickly spread from his forehead to his entire body. The black man only had time to let out a short scream before he was thrown backward like an anvil struck by a giant hammer, collapsing softly to the ground like a tattered sack.

Hot, bright red blood gushed from more than a dozen wounds, revealing white broken bones and muscles beneath. The bones had been shattered by the force of a single blow!

Clean and swift, a fatal blow.

The man pulled out the curved knife stuck in his clothes, casually crushed it into a lump of scrap metal and threw it away. His stiff, rigid lips curled up, as if he were very satisfied with his victory.

But just like superiors and employees, clients and service providers, these individuals who should theoretically be on the same side often have differing opinions on specific matters.

"Mahogni!" The front door was slammed open, and a thin man in a train driver's uniform rushed out like a gust of wind, ripped off his peaked cap, and angrily slammed it hard against the other man's face.

"You fucking can't understand, can you! How many times have I told you? Try to capture your prey intact. What you need is fresh, live flesh, not a pile of expired discounted meat paste from the supermarket! Get this straight, this isn't the time for you to be a serial killer in a slaughterhouse. You need to obey orders!"

His gaze shifted, and he pointed through gritted teeth at the hole in the tall man's shirt, continuing to spit wildly.

"And do you think you're immortal? With your half-baked physical modifications, if someone pulls out a gun, your job is ruined!"

“Understood, Mr. Tony.” Mahorgney ignored his almost humiliating insults, replying coldly and distantly before squatting down and meticulously wiping the steel hammer on the corpse's clothes. He acted as if the corpse were a beautiful and intimate lover, his twisted and fanatical nature evident in his words.

Looking at his lifeless partner, Tony's eyes were practically spitting fire. If this mission hadn't been so taboo that he had to send some scum who could be discarded at any time, he would have already reported to his superiors and replaced him.

"Remember this, this is the last time!"

He growled angrily, "That delivery girl we caught last time is about to be used up. If we don't get a fresh batch, we won't be able to keep up with the demand, and we'll be in big trouble!"

Chapter 355 Midnight Train, Danger Lurks in the Dark 3

A powerful, dry, turbid airflow burst forth from between his palms, carefully licking every inch of the seat and the floor.

The blood that had been fresh and warm just moments before suddenly stopped flowing, quickly dried and faded, turning into a fine layer of red and black dust.

Then, dust, accompanied by a whirlwind, emerged from the massive steel structure through the cracks, scattering evenly throughout the empty tunnel, silently burying all evil.

With a sinister glint in his eyes, Tony watched the burly man carry the corpse away. After cleaning up the scene of the massacre, Tony, still seething with anger, dissipated his powers, muttering curses under his breath: "You reckless idiot, when the project is almost finished, I should feed you to that 'thing' as a snack too..."

Just as I was getting angry, a faint rectangular yellow light flashed past the window. It turned out to be several indicator signs, but strangely, they were completely blank and had no text on them.

He glanced at it, spat out his anger, and quickened his pace to catch up.

"Hurry up and pack the 'goods,' we're about to arrive at our destination."

As the two figures disappeared into the staff rest area behind the driver's cab, a wisp of white mist inexplicably appeared on the glass surface of the partition door between the adjacent compartments, as if an invisible person had breathed on it, creating an eerie atmosphere.

"Did you hear that...? The delivery girl, it must be Max! She's just been kidnapped, she's not dead!"

Caroline withdrew her peeping gaze, a surge of joy instantly filling her mind, overshadowing the visual impact of the horrific and bloody scene.

"Calm down, calm down." Michelle gripped Caroline's shoulders, trying to bring her back to her senses from her euphoria. "We don't know the specifics yet, so don't act rashly."

Having received relevant training and experienced several real-world scenarios, she had a thorough understanding of the principles for handling extraordinary events, and then assessed the level of danger:

"Nan, are you confident you can handle those two thugs?"

The chubby little witch pouted and nodded forcefully with her round chin. "Yeah, they can't beat me."

Even though she may seem a bit carefree, this exceptionally talented girl is, after all, an elite trained by the Sisterhood of Witches, and would be a rare find even on the outside.

"Alright, then you'll be in charge of protecting everyone, and then follow my instructions..."

As they were talking, the subway gradually slowed down, seemingly about to enter the next station, but at a fork in the road, it suddenly turned into another dark tunnel.

Rome wasn't built in a day, and that saying is just as apt for the New York Metro. Over the past century, it has undergone countless renovations and expansions, resulting in a larger area and structure, but also creating many dead-end roads that have been abandoned for various reasons.

This was one of them. Since it was an abandoned road, its length was naturally limited. In just a few minutes, we saw the end of it.

But the subway did not slow down at all when faced with the dust-covered, uneven rock wall, and crashed straight into it!

The light and shadow shifted, alternating between darkness and light, revealing that the seemingly solid rock was merely an illusion, and the railway tracks continued to extend.

Under the sparse lights of the carriage, the old and cracked cement surface of the tunnel could be seen, with occasional thick moss. It was clear that the place had been built for many years. What was even stranger was that as they continued to move, an invisible force was exerted on the "passengers" from behind, causing them to involuntarily lean forward, and the entire train was moving downwards...

No, to be precise, the entire tunnel goes deep underground!

……

……

After an unknown amount of time, they passed through another barrier resembling ripples in water. The space ahead grew larger and larger, and the neat cement blocks and blue brick walls gradually disappeared, replaced by strange, gritty rocks mixed with mud.

Meanwhile, the surrounding temperature gradually dropped, and the chill was biting. Tiny white frost streaks climbed onto the car window glass, as if time had reversed, returning from early spring in February to the snowy midwinter.

"Clang—Buzz!"

The deep, metallic tremolo with a penetrating quality extended the final note, carrying far into the vast, open space. The train glided along for a considerable distance using its inertia before coming to a steady stop beside the large, flat platform.

Although it's called a platform, its appearance is extremely strange, exhibiting two different styles in both shape and materials:

Below is a rough, broken stone slab, with abstract patterns of bison, brown bears, eagles, and falcons in a strong indigenous style. The missing parts are filled with industrial-looking alloy steel plates, which extend outwards to form ramps and steps. Add to that a few haphazardly erected lampposts and haphazardly tethered cables, and it feels as if a piece of ruin was hastily renovated and put into use for some reason.

This place appears to be a semi-natural, semi-man-made underground cave, shrouded in deep darkness with no end in sight. Faint carvings and chisel marks are scattered across the cave walls, interwoven with natural cracks and the traces of time. The air is filled with the damp scent of earth, and the occasional dripping sound of water droplets is particularly clear in this silent space.

Near the platform were several round huts built of synthetic materials. They were very sturdy, probably to withstand the pervasive cold of the place. Several figures came out from inside after hearing the sound and went to meet the two people who were dragging the corpse off the car.

"Why is it another piece of trash that's been turned into a pulp? If we don't have any fresh material soon, I'll have to pick one of you two pieces of junk and send it in!"

The speaker was a young man in his twenties or thirties. His messy, short hair resembled a ball of crimson flame. His camouflage uniform was casually draped over his shoulders, and his military green vest was tightly stretched over his muscular body. A gust of hot air wafted out as he walked.

The others also exhibited unusual behaviors, some exhaling icy mist with their breath, others flashing lightning in their eyes, but they all subtly regarded him as their leader.

"Bullshit! Isn't there still a big-breasted waitress left?" Tony said irritably, annoyed by his partner's disregard for orders. He wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"How could I bear to do that? I'll tie him up in the warehouse first." The red-haired youth chuckled lewdly and lowered his voice.

"I've been doing hard labor in this dark prison for weeks, without any fun at all. I'm going crazy. I'm finally getting a piece of good meat. In a couple of days, when those troublesome black dogs go back to report, I'm going to enjoy it properly."

He then angrily changed the subject, criticizing the so-called supervisors.

"They want to control this and that. If you ask me, with so many illegal immigrants in New York, they could just talk to the gangs and get as many live, breathing goods as they want. Why do they have to do it all secretly?"

He's just a simple-minded, muscle-bound scoundrel. No wonder he squandered such a good hand, even after awakening his [Knight Rank] ability, he's ended up doing dirty work to atone for his crimes...

Tony inwardly scoffed, but considering his new colleague's formidable strength and in order to build a better relationship, he patiently explained:

“Brother Donnie, New York isn’t some rural place like Montana. Catholics, Protestants, the FBI, the CIA, the Department of Homeland Security, the Pentagon… from government agencies to major organizations, countless eyes are on this place. A large-scale disappearance is likely to attract attention.”

He turned his head and gave him a wink. Mahorgney silently picked up the two corpses and walked along a gravel path.

"In fact, if that 'thing' weren't so difficult to move, the big shots up there wouldn't be willing to risk causing trouble right under their noses."

Chapter 356 Midnight Train, Danger Lurks in the Dark 4

"If I could figure out what those bureaucrats were thinking, would I have dropped out of school to become a firefighter?"

Donnie lazily scratched his short, bright red hair, leading the group as they leisurely followed Mahorgney forward.

As they ventured deeper, the chilling cold in the air intensified, and the frost around them turned into glistening ice flowers, spreading out across the sand and gravel on the ground. It was as if they had entered a giant cold storage, causing everyone to frown.

A simple change in temperature would not be enough to harm these superhumans with their extraordinary physiques, but the mysterious threat lurking within felt like some unknown warning, making their hair stand on end instinctively.

The coldness seeped into my body, and a feeling of hunger welled up inside me. It was as if countless greedy little hands had sprouted in my stomach, frantically urging me to seek out fresh, warm food that could fill my belly and warm my body, such as…

...human flesh and blood!

"Whoa!" Wisps of dark red flames rose faintly around him, and Donnie, the strongest among them, was the first to break free from the mental influence.

He whistled lightly, his expression more pleased than surprised, "The intensity and range of the spiritual radiation have expanded again. It seems we'll soon see results. Our hard work is coming to an end, and we can finally take off this damn leash!"

Donnie stroked the silver-black choker with engraved runes around his neck, his tone full of anticipation.

"I hope so." Tony wasn't as strong as him, so he just hugged his train uniform tightly, trying his best to conserve his precious warmth.

"If you learn your lesson, the higher-ups will probably give you a new face and identity. But if you do something like targeting a senator's wife again, you might really end up on the dissection table for research."

From the shadowy darkness ahead, an impatient voice spoke up.

The sturdy combat boots shattered the frost on the ground as a middle-aged man wrapped in a thick trench coat slowly stepped out.

The man had a slightly high hairline, fair skin, brown eyes, and a prominent chin—typical of Onsa white descent. His cold, sharp gaze held a hint of contempt, as if he were sizing up a pile of eyesores.

"Captain Blake."

As a member of the official faction and the de facto person in charge here, the visitor's status was far superior to that of these few "bandits and convicts." Therefore, even though his shortcomings were exposed to his face, the young Donnie still suppressed his temper and responded politely.

"The prey is dead this time, so we need to increase the amount of auxiliary catalyst accordingly."

Blake scoffed disdainfully, "Then bring that woman you've been hiding over there later, and we'll use her together."

"Everything we do is for the Federation. Those who sacrificed their lives are national heroes and should not be tortured, humiliated, or used for amusement. Do you scum understand that?"

His expression was proud and resolute, almost like that of a devout saint in a religious painting.

However, this "noble demeanor" of being loyal to the country was seen by a group of people who were carrying out cases and trying to redeem themselves, and all they got were a few labels like "idiot" and "lackey."

We're damn scum, and you, you self-deceiving bastard, how much better are you? Why come and arrest the poor bastards of Brooklyn instead of the Wall Street tycoons to be the "heroes"? Don't you have any self-awareness?

Ignoring their inner grumbling, Blake turned and led the group onto a square.

An eerie chill and a thirst for food surged once more, emanating from clusters of hexagonal ice pillars as thick as a person's embrace, condensing into pale, black, and red spiritual light that floated among them like stars.

Inside those ice pillars, tall remains with protruding sharp teeth and claws, heads resembling wild beasts like bears, wolves, and deer, and long, thin, human-like limbs, were bowing and kneeling in worship in one direction.

Because its characteristics are so obvious, any superhuman who has systematically studied occult knowledge can immediately name this most famous native monster of the New World.

Wendigo!

As beings that are half undead and half spirits, they have broken free from the limitations of their physical size in life, and are generally over two meters tall. However, in front of their "kind" in the center of the square, they are still as humble as dwarfs.

Its long, tangled hairs swayed, its dark body was dry and decaying, exuding a hard, iron-like quality, and its gray-yellow antlers, with their crisscrossing branches, coiled and twisted on its head, resembling a strange snake.

It stood there silently, almost level with the three-story residential building, exuding a fierce and desolate atmosphere, making one feel as if naked and standing in a dangerous wilderness. Its overwhelming pressure was enough to terrify any ordinary person, causing their heart to tremble and their liver to shatter.

However, this terrifying monster was now completely lifeless. There wasn't even a trace of soul fire flickering in the eye sockets of its huge, pale deer skull, indicating that it had been dead for countless years.

A dozen or so thick silver chains extended from the stone tablets engraved with the Bible on all sides, radiating a dazzling holy light, and firmly bound its remains. The alchemical runes drawn with mercury-like solution were densely packed, crawling all over every inch of its body, like mechanical parts meshing and rotating in a certain pattern.

Mahorgni discarded the two corpses at the monster's feet, while Blake carefully took out a small silver-gray metal box and pinched out a few round, bean-like objects.

Under the illumination of several cold lights around it, the orb shimmered with a sacred golden-red glow. If an Asian youth from a thousand miles away were here, he would immediately recognize it as the so-called "superpower" potion, which is a trace of divinity extracted through a special method!

Blake hesitated for a moment, then poured out a few more grains and stuffed them into the corpse's mouth.

The eerie dust in the air, like flies drawn to blood, quickly gathered around. The capsule melted and seeped into it in an instant, and the mangled corpse trembled violently, its shape twisted and deformed.