American variety show world begins with subduing Jason

“It’s not her!” Eric Blade denied his guess. “Bloody Mary is a vampire spirit who has abandoned her physical form. She perished along with most of the ancient vampires who were barely surviving after Lord Van Helsing wiped out the Thirteen Clans in the 1870s. Besides, I didn’t detect the scent of a vampire in the mirror.”

“Then there’s nothing more to say.” Lü Hetong opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he closed his mouth. “The Church should have more records about the last one, Azazel.”

Based on their conversation and information about the other members, but due to a lack of intelligence, it's too early to speculate.

For a moment, no one spoke; the air was heavy with tension.

A group of remnants of gods and demons from a barbaric era, transcending factions and systems to form a gang, hiding in the shadows, their intentions are obviously sinister.

They can't possibly be practicing singing, dancing, and rapping in order to debut as a super idol through a costume change, can they?

Regardless of their strength or status, everyone present firmly believed they were on the side of humanity, and no one wanted chaos to break out.

Henry Lai put away his notebook, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's enough for today. I'll go report the results of my investigation to the authorities and various organizations."

He tried to keep his tone light, saying, "There's no need for everyone to worry too much. Anyone who manages to survive the Dharma-ending Age must have paid a huge price; it's impossible for them to be unscathed."

Otherwise, they would have already distinguished themselves and dominated the region. Now that we have some clues, we can simply deal with whatever comes our way calmly.

This sentence sets the tone for the whole situation.

"Oh, right!" After seeing Warren and Eric off, Lü Hetong beckoned Zhu Mingyao over.

"I've reforged your reward artifact."

Chapter 381 Hidden Secrets

Several hours later, in a quiet room.

The square teapot, about half a foot tall, with a wide mouth and long neck, stands serenely on an antique tea table, like an elegant fairy. The teapot's body has smooth, simple, and generous lines, and is undecorated, including the ring-shaped handles, giving it a touch of the tranquil, simple, innocent, and natural style of the Song Dynasty.

The square pot is pure white and flawless, like piled-up fat, seemingly made of top-grade white jade. However, its surface is covered with ice-crack-like patterns reminiscent of Longquan ware, appearing and disappearing intermittently, making it look strange and extraordinary.

Zhu Mingyao ran his index finger across the wisps of white steam rising and falling from the spout of the pot, feeling the bone-chilling cold, and asked curiously, "Is this a magical artifact crafted using the divine power of [Coldness]? Uncle Lü, you truly have excellent craftsmanship."

"I only made some repairs. A treasure of this caliber couldn't be forged without decades of painstaking work," Lü Hetong said modestly, waving his hand as he explained.

"This [Flying Jade Pot] was originally a magical artifact carried by a female follower of a different sect during the Song and Yuan dynasties. It was capable of causing frost and snow to fall. Later, it was destroyed during a battle with an enemy, causing frost to fall in June during the height of summer. People associated it with a wrongful case that happened at the same time, creating a legendary story."

He tapped it lightly, and the pot suddenly turned translucent, revealing a few glittering lights fluttering inside.

"It contains nine Qingnu True Talismans. When fully activated, it can control hail, sleet, rain, and snow within a radius of twenty or thirty miles. It can seal demons and slay ghosts, and freeze mountains and rivers. Although its power is slightly dispersed when dealing with a single enemy, it is still a rare treasure."

"This is a real steal..." Zhu Mingyao's eyes lit up as he listened, nodding repeatedly in deep agreement.

He understood very well that strategic treasures were far more valuable than ordinary magical artifacts used for attacking enemies or protecting oneself.

Even disregarding its combat capabilities, its use in civilian sectors alone would generate a substantial income, easily enough to support a small supernatural organization.

It's important to understand that, even with current conditions, let alone in ancient times, agricultural output in human societies is still largely constrained by natural weather. Technological means such as large-scale artificial rainmaking are not something that just any poor country in Asia, Africa, or Latin America can easily master.

With just this jade pot, he could travel to any small country that relies on agriculture and be treated as an honored guest.

Following the other party's instructions, Zhu Mingyao channeled his true qi and magical power, and an invisible chill was exhaled, which combined with the moisture in the air to transform into a large, dense, cotton-like, damp, cold white mist, making the surroundings appear hazy and indistinct, much like the dry ice effects on a stage.

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and closing came from within the mist, and a magnetic male voice chuckled:

"At your age, aren't you afraid of getting rheumatism? Let's all leave!"

The words were calm and casual, like a boss giving a casual instruction to an employee, without any sudden inspiration, yet the white mist abruptly dissipated. Zhu Mingyao turned around in surprise and saw Lai Hengli arriving together with an elderly man with gray hair.

The old man had a dignified face, a serious and capable look, a Piaget gold watch on his wrist, Vans leather shoes on his feet, and a well-fitting handmade black Armani suit. He resembled a business tycoon of a multinational corporation. If you met him for the first time, you would never guess that he was a powerful cultivator who ruled over a region.

"Greetings, Uncle Si! What brings you here?" Zhu Mingyao quickly bowed and greeted him.

Within the Chinese Chamber of Commerce, there is only one person whom he can address in this way: the current president of the Chamber, who is also the head of the four major leaders of the North American Red Gate and is known as "the man of golden words".

He was always busy with official duties and rarely made public appearances. Zhu Mingyao had only seen him a few times before, during holidays, when he accompanied his teacher.

Lu Hetong suddenly realized something, as if he had figured it out. "Henry secretly stopped me from revealing the information about the sea goddess earlier because he wanted to discuss it with you first."

Zhu Mingyao, standing nearby, also perked up his ears. After their adventure on Skull Island, Corybusor's true identity had been thoroughly exposed by a certain captain. However, while everyone else was discussing it, Corybusor pretended not to know anything, though he himself was also somewhat puzzled.

His doubts were quickly answered. Stu Yuan said in a deep voice, "An enemy's intelligence is of course not worth mentioning, but if we add the possibility of ownership of a mythical secret realm, we have to think carefully about the weight of the matter."

Zhu Mingyao suddenly realized that while on the Black Pearl, the others were seriously injured and lying dead. Only Hualian and the Witch knew about the transactions that took place. If he were to explain the origins of the Sea Goddess, he would inevitably have to reveal all the relevant information.

As the saying goes, even close brothers should keep clear accounts. Although we have a good personal relationship, Teotihuacan is the earthly palace of a pantheon, and the interests involved are too great. From the organization's perspective, it is only right to consider things more carefully.

Then, Henry Lai sighed and said, "We're not deliberately trying to hide it now. We'll think of a proper way to tell them later."

The adult world is really complicated. A kid like me, who lacks mental maturity, should probably just celebrate Children's Day... The young man, who hates weighing the pros and cons in friendships, chuckled to himself and thought to himself.

Seeing Zhu Mingyao's distressed expression, Lai Hengli offered a lighthearted word of comfort:

"It's just normal practice for the old guys, don't take it to heart. Besides, they also hold back a bit."

He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing into slits. "The federal government and intelligence agencies behind that old fox Warren are all over the world."

When Pan was mentioned, his heart skipped a beat. He probably had some exclusive information that he was waiting to sell to us in exchange for a higher price.

Everyone has their own stance; that's just how the martial arts world is…

The old feng shui master sighed a couple of times, then changed the subject, his expression turning strange:

"Leave the tedious and sordid matters to us old folks; you young people should just live the lives you're meant to live."

—Fiona of the Witches' Sisterhood suggests that, in preparation for the next secret realm exploration, you be stationed in New Orleans to 'train together' with her two female disciples. What do you think…?

"Oh dear, it's been so long since I've been to the San Francisco headquarters. Uncles, I'll take my leave now to go visit Brother Qi Yue." Sensing that the conversation was about to take an awkward turn, Zhu Mingyao promptly turned and left.

……

……

Los Angeles, Golden State, Special Investigations Bureau West Coast Division.

Blue-gray smoke rose from a point of crimson, climbing and changing in the air before gradually disappearing, leaving only the lingering aroma of tar and nicotine.

"That's all we talked about?" Davis flipped through a few sheets of paper, seemingly a little disappointed.

“Yes,” Ed Warren replied cautiously. “Davis, why do you think they’re withholding some crucial information?”

“I just knew it,” he said calmly, his relaxed eyelids drooping.

Knowing the other party's style and temperament, Warren had no intention of digging deeper and reached for the photocopied documents on the table.

"I'll go back and study it slowly. After all, it's a vague record from more than half a century ago. Nobody knows if it will have changed."

The door closed and the footsteps receded. After a long while, the high-ranking branch chief lit another cigarette and opened the dusty original documents.

"...My name is Ophelia, I am 12 years old, and I live in the mountains of Navarre in northern Spain...[He] told me that if I complete three trials, I can stay in this natural labyrinth forever, far away from the wars and disasters outside, and live happily like a princess..."

His fingers traced the yellowed photograph; the image of the peacefully buried little girl seemed to tremble slightly. Hidden messages beyond the text flowed into his mind, and Davis calmly murmured to himself:

"I just know it!"

His round pupils shimmered with a faint light, devoid of the confusion often seen in the elderly, like obsidian discs... or rather, mirrors!

Chapter 382 The Echoes of an Era

The long, towering coastal mountain range overlooks the city of San Francisco, and as far as the eye can see, the vast Pacific Ocean stretches out before you.

Far from the city center, this place is extremely quiet, and the peaceful atmosphere is refreshing, making it an ideal location for wealthy businessmen to purchase property and relax.

Nestled amidst dense foliage, the mountain villas are scattered in a picturesque and harmonious manner, each unique and distinct in style, together forming a magnificent architectural tapestry that blends seamlessly into the lush and vibrant natural world.

These villas draw inspiration from all over the world, combining classic European charm with modern minimalist style.

This section features classic marble Roman columns and arches with smooth lines, showcasing a sense of historical weight; the other section uses modern metal frames and fiberglass to create a light and stylish architectural form, embodying the essence of avant-garde aesthetics.

Among the many buildings, there are naturally many with an oriental style.

On the flat ground made of a certain bluish-gray mud, there were no decorative sculptures and fountains commonly seen in wealthy homes, making it appear simple and unadorned.

Several rows of vermilion wooden shelves were filled with gleaming weapons, ranging from swords, spears, and halberds from Far Eastern civilizations to cross-shaped swords and Swiss halberds from Western countries, and even niche kukri knives and serpentine short swords, making it seem like a museum of cold weapons.

A black-capped tit with a tuft of dark feathers perched on a slender branch, its beady eyes blinking as it stared blankly at the courtyard below, utterly bewildered by its limited brain capacity:

Why are there faint crackling sounds coming from an empty, flat area?

But in a place invisible to the naked eye, a fierce battle suddenly erupted...

The three-foot-long frost-covered blade danced like a phoenix, its sword energy condensing into several cold, sharp streaks of light, like shooting stars in a winter night, piercing the still air. Wherever the sword tip pointed, cracks instantly appeared in the solid ground.

Faced with such an attack, the figure on the other side simply flicked his wrist, and a dazzling golden light swept across, catching all the sword energy. Then, with a flick of his wrist, a dragon-patterned halberd, as if forged from golden glass, came crashing down!

In an instant, lasers and sparks flew everywhere, and the sounds of swords and blades clashed. If it weren't for a hazy, transparent cloud covering the surroundings and absorbing the light and shadow, the deafening noise would have long attracted the curiosity of the nearby neighbors.

"Zheng——!"

The sword moved nimbly, retreating again and again, trying its best to draw a three-ring moon pattern, but it was still broken by the sharp light like a raging torrent, spinning and flying out of its hand, turning back into its original silver-white sword pellet form.

"Sigh, everyone has their own expertise. I guess I'll just stick to my promising career as a turret mage..." Zhu Mingyao sighed helplessly, glancing at the blade pressed against his neck.

The crescent blade vanished like fireflies, and his sigh only elicited a hearty laugh. "Don't be discouraged. You lasted two minutes longer than last time. Your skills have clearly improved."

"Forget it, my physical skills are good enough. Even if I train harder, I still can't beat a martial arts fanatic like you." He resignedly shrugged at the agile young man with long arms and a slender waist, naturally changing the subject.

"I've been here for two or three days now, and Uncle Zhou still hasn't returned. I was planning to take this opportunity to visit him, but it looks like I'll have to postpone it until next time."

Without turning his head, Qi Yue made a move that sent two aluminum cans flying through the air from a wooden table under the porch in the distance.

"It's said to be a bit tricky. The official trouble this time seems to be quite big. Apart from our side, other forces and even some influential lone wolves have received invitations to the meeting. Unfortunately, they are bound by a very high-level oath, so the specific situation is still unknown."

The splashed, fine foam quickly dissolved into the air, releasing the delicate aroma of a blend of premium hops and malt.

Qi Yue downed his drink in one gulp, savoring the refreshing, slightly bitter taste in his mouth: "Before accepting the invitation, my master instructed me to seize the time to hone my skills and strive to maintain my best condition, as there might be a large-scale operation."

"The scandal of raising high-level vampires hasn't been thoroughly investigated yet, how dare those bureaucrats bring it up?" Zhu Mingyao took the drink his friend offered and sneered as he unzipped the bottle.

"Fighting without breaking..." The aluminum alloy can suddenly unfolded into fine hair between the five fingers, and then suddenly solidified into a perfectly round ball, demonstrating the extraordinary martial arts of turning iron into mud.

"Everyone is just using this as leverage to restrain and discipline us. Do you think we can call on our friends, swear blood oaths, raise the yellow banner of righteousness, storm the White House, and seize the oval office?"

Qi Yue shook his head and made some jokes that were very much in line with the cultural context.

Human society has developed to the point where it has become a complex and fragile behemoth, where a single move can have far-reaching consequences. Even those who have reached the level of extraordinary power must, to a certain extent, abide by its rules of operation, otherwise they will inevitably harm themselves and others.

"I see that your strength has improved very quickly recently, and your mind and body are not quite in sync. You should take a good rest for a while."

"That's exactly what I'm thinking. I'll go back and recuperate." Zhu Mingyao appropriately expressed his gratitude for his kindness.

He chatted idly, but his eyes were fixed on the clear, cloudless sky to the northwest, his mind churning with fragments of conversation his girlfriend had overheard during the New York riots: