American variety show world begins with subduing Jason

Although Zhu Mingyao was not afraid of trouble, he was unwilling to confront the state apparatus directly, and besides, he needed to find a way to settle the affairs of the victims. So, a vast and auspicious light swept in, thousands of doors and windows opened, and in an instant, people and things were stuffed into the Sanyuan Palace, then turned and disappeared into the sea and sky.

After an unknown amount of time, the cold clouds that had blocked the space dissipated completely. With the obstruction gone, the warm breeze of the tropical ocean blew freely, and the frost on the ground disappeared without a trace.

Before several strangely shaped corpses, a figure stepped through the thick, inky darkness, glanced into the distance, and then turned his gaze back.

"Click, click!" The flashes went off one after another, capturing their "heroic" appearance with every hole in their bodies filled with cylindrical objects, which they would savor for a while. The handsome young man with black hair praised them with great interest.

"It's such a beautiful technique. To be honest, after looking at those disgusting slug faces all day, I've wanted to do this for a long time."

He calmly dialed the communicator, his expression casual and relaxed, but his tone was surprisingly heavy and anxious.

"My esteemed officers, I am Alex. I am very sorry, but I have some very unfortunate news: we are too late..."

He pressed the button, hung up the phone, and kept the raging storm at bay. The young vampire king's lips curled into a strange smile.

"Want to hold the murderer accountable? Hurry up and do it, I can't wait any longer. A bunch of foolish bureaucrats blinded by peace, when you've run into a bloody mess, you'll only have one option left..."

……

……

Unaware of the unpredictable events that unfolded after his departure, Zhu Mingyao was already thousands of miles away, riding the wind and controlling the clouds.

As one of the world's premier metropolises, New York's nights remain bright, showing no trace of the riots that occurred just months ago.

St. Patrick's Cathedral stands serenely beside Fifth Avenue. Surrounded by the dazzling neon lights, its ancient and elegant Gothic architecture exudes a unique tranquility and solemnity.

Few tourists visiting for the first time would imagine that hidden among the fashionable, even luxurious, commercial buildings is the core headquarters of the Catholic Church in the Federation.

Chapter 464

The pure white candlelight burned quietly and steadily, generously filling the room with its warm and peaceful soft light, like the gentlest star in the night sky, guiding the lost soul home, just like the figure praying devoutly before me.

Mother Eileen knelt on the prayer cushion, facing the simple wooden cross, and twirled the rose beads as she performed her routine evening prayer.

"Hail Mary, you are full of grace! The Lord is with you."

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is your Son Jesus.

Holy Mary, we pray that you will be with us now and at our deathbed.

We pray to God for us sinners…

Just as the last word, "Amen," was about to be uttered, a subtle yet clear ripple suddenly broke through the air.

She frowned slightly, her fingers paused unconsciously as she strung beads, and she leaned in to listen intently, her expression gradually becoming serious and puzzled.

A few seconds later, Sister Irene bowed slightly to the cross, then stood up decisively, suspending her daily prayers.

A burst of light shone beneath her feet, and her figure vanished from the prayer room, reappearing at the church entrance.

"You received that message too, right?" As the headquarters of the Eastern Archdiocese of the Federation, the stationed forces were naturally sufficient. Patriarch Daniel, surrounded by a group of subordinates, also rushed over in a hurry.

His thin, aged body was covered by a loose cotton bathrobe that swayed gently. He glanced to the side, trying his best to maintain a solemn tone.

"is this real?"

"As you can see."

Sister Irene pointed a finger with a strange expression.

On the smooth marble floor tiles, a row of boys and girls of different ages lay asleep in a neat row, with stacks of documents, CDs and videotapes placed to the side.

Picking up a few documents, even the old bishop, with his profound composure, was still stung by the horrific and unsightly scenes in the pictures, and his withered skin on his face twitched involuntarily.

"May God bless those poor children who have suffered misfortune." He paused for a moment, then said hesitantly, "It involves a wide range of people, so it's not easy to handle. The person behind the scenes wants us to be the ones charging into battle."

Having spent half his life in the bustling and prestigious city of New York, Daniel was quick to see through the trouble that lay ahead.

The deep anger between Granny Eileen's brows gradually faded, and a thunderous glint seemed to roll within her bright eyes:

"Whatever needs to be done, we will do it."

Her voice was calm and even, without any hint of impulsiveness; every word sounded like a vow uttered after careful consideration.

"There's no need to worry. The Holy City will agree. This is an opportunity. Now that the Lord's glory shines again, it's time to wake up those fallen ones!"

As she spoke, she seemed to casually gaze at the distant horizon.

At the same time, high in the sky, Zhu Mingyao glanced back at the dimly lit Manhattan district, then leaped into the vast moonlight. He was very busy with work tonight, and naturally, the bigger the commotion, the better.

……

……

As the sky gradually brightens, a light morning mist drifts across the streets, draping the city in a veil of mystery.

Countless birds awoke from their slumber, chirping and singing, heralding the arrival of a new day.

In front of the magnificent, tall building, a lark perched on a branch, hopping and hopping lazily, plucking a soft feather from its wing, and looking at the bustling crowd on the ground with curious eyes.

In its short, limited lifespan, it had never seen the two-legged creatures near its home so lively.

"When may the President grant an interview?"

"Does the special spokesperson have any plans to hold a press conference on this matter?"

"Has the government not yet made a statement regarding the authenticity of the allegations?"

A whole array of microphones and recording equipment were set up, along with excited faces eager to try, creating an atmosphere that was somewhat imposing and daunting.

"I really want to call the special forces over right now, set up machine guns and wipe them all out!"

Standing in front of a window, the man spat viciously and pulled the curtains shut. Even through the bulletproof glass, the fanatical gazes made him feel like ants were crawling all over his body.

I advise you not to.

The atmosphere in the office was as oppressive as the eve of a storm. Several officials looked at each other, glancing at their colleagues who were lost in thought and determined to cower in fear. Finally, the most senior chief of staff mustered his courage and spoke dryly.

"Please calm down for a moment. The people coming from outside are all official media from various countries, not Fox or CNN. You can't block them with violence."

"Damn it, fuck, I know, I know!" The man scratched his hair without any regard for his image, taking big strides that pounded on the floor like a mad bull charging around.

Even if they won the Cold War and their national power is unparalleled in the world, the world is not their private backyard. Especially when it comes to such a shocking scandal, not to mention their overt and covert competitors, even their own allies will probably stab them in the back.

"Damn the information age!"

The man, his eyes bloodshot and breathing heavily, suddenly felt a pang of nostalgia for his youth. Back then, when they controlled all traditional media channels, they had nipped the danger in the bud long ago. How could they have ended up in such a predicament?

"Your Excellency..." Knowing that the commander before him lacked quick wit and that his entry into this position was mostly due to his family's influence and political maneuvering, the chief of staff sighed helplessly.

"Let's wait for the Supreme Council to negotiate with all parties."

He spread his hands listlessly, "After all, the ones who can truly make the final decision are never us..."

Compared to the terrible atmosphere here, the situation in another hidden space could even be described as tense and on the verge of war.

"What are you saying? I can't believe my ears!"

An elderly man with blond hair slicked back and meticulously combed stared wide-eyed as if he had seen something utterly absurd, not even noticing when his expensive cigar had fallen from his hand.

"Not only are you unwilling to cooperate in bringing that despicable murderer to justice and punishing him severely, but you also want us to bear so-called responsibility? Are you crazy?"

Behind him, several men and women of varying appearances stood with expressions of shock and anger, their usual composure completely gone, their worldviews shattered.

"I reiterate, this is a joint resolution by all parties and organizations."

Sister Irene stood with her hands at her sides, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes, and narrated expressionlessly.

"You charlatans need to understand who this country really belongs to!" the old man shouted hysterically.

"Get them out of here!"

His fingers trembled so much that they almost poked the old nun's face.

"Plop, plop."

Several figures flew in awkwardly, landing on the ground with dull thuds.

"You, you!"

Seeing the superhuman guards easily subdued, the old man's face turned ashen, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Having lived in a comfortable environment for too long, you all seem to have forgotten the fundamental law governing the world—violence is the source of all logic."

The silver-gray blade exuded a chilling aura. After brushing away a speck of dust from the cigar, [Blade] Eric took a puff without any disgust and rudely blew the gray smoke into the old man's face.

"Perhaps in normal times, you can use your power and wealth to buy off some people and accomplish some things, but... in the end, you do not truly possess power!"

Chapter 465

The dark embers filled the ornate crystal ashtrays, and the air was thick with the smell of nicotine and alcohol. Accompanied by the chaotic pacing, this elegantly decorated lounge was inexplicably filled with a subtle sense of anxiety.

"boom!"

The delicate vase on the shelf was instantly shattered, while the cell phone, the culprit, probably because it was too sturdy, only bounced a few times on the floor, still intermittently transmitting the voice from the other end.

"...As a federal employee, I only...follow the government's arrangements...and I apologize for your personal matters."

However, this act of loyalty only earned him his master's increasing rage.

"Shit!"

The metasequoia cane was swung wildly, creating a piercing gust of wind that smashed the LCD screen and surrounding ceramic shards into pieces.

The alabaster sculpture has broken arms and short legs, while the bright oil painting is torn into long folds.

Not content with stepping on the rubble, he unleashed his remaining anger on the furnishings in the room until he was exhausted and his limbs trembled, finally stopping panting heavily.

“Antonio refused to make a move. This stubborn freak, influenced by his bloodline, has always considered himself the guardian of the common people. We should have expected this.”

The old man muttered to himself, then slumped dejectedly onto the sofa. His face was frighteningly pale, like a homeless person frozen to death on the roadside in winter, devoid of any vitality or warmth.

The hopeful expressions on the faces of the crowd that had gathered around instantly turned into disappointment and resentment.

"A bastard born in a petri dish, does he really think he's Hercules, the righteous one?!"

The elegantly dressed noblewoman, her hair disheveled, who usually enjoyed cruelly torturing illegal immigrants for amusement, was now screaming like a little girl who had seen a spider.

Ignoring her frantic behavior, the old man's eyes revealed deep weariness and despair. He turned to look at the man who had just pushed the door open and asked with a hint of expectation.

"Has the gift been delivered? What did that old fellow who loves wearing red robes say?"

The man's gaze was stiff and unfocused, the veins on his forehead twitched like earthworms, and his voice was hoarse, like two pieces of cheap sandpaper rubbing against each other.