I created the Old Gods and Outer Gods in America.

The seawater began to churn.

Several water columns rose simultaneously from all around the platform, each as thick as an adult's waist. They intertwined and spiraled upwards in mid-air, looking like several living, transparent giant pythons mating.

The water column climbed onto the deck.

Then, the water droplets burst open with a bang, and Creel's figure appeared on the deck!

By this time, his size had grown even larger, reaching five meters in length! Each scale on his body was the size of a human hand!

Marcus approached Creel and bowed his head to report:

"Boss, the count is complete. There are 186 people in total, and 61 of them joined voluntarily. The conversion is all done."

Kriel nodded.

Sixty-one people, roughly one-third, which was within his expectations.

In fact, with his current abilities, he can forcibly complete the transformation as long as the person is alive. The transformation of a Deep One never requires the other party's consent.

But Creel didn't want to do that, not out of kindness, but because the Deep Ones were intelligent beings with their own thoughts. If they weren't willing to follow him, becoming a Deep One wouldn't be of any use, so there was no need to waste time.

Kriel closed his eyes slightly, his consciousness extending outward.

He sensed the situation on Theodore and Rison's side. These two, like Marcus, were Deep Ones who had been enhanced by him and could transform humans.

After a moment, Kriel opened his eyes.

"It's all over."

His tone was very calm, as if he were talking about something trivial.

The destruction of three offshore drilling platforms in one fell swoop resulted in the direct loss of nearly 400,000 barrels of crude oil production per day, and an economic loss of more than 32 million US dollars per day. In addition, the cost of building the offshore drilling platforms is enough to make the United States feel ashamed.

Moreover, the gains from this operation were not limited to these; there were also Deep Ones!

The number of volunteers switching between the three platforms has increased by 137.

Including the members he had been recruiting from the homeless population in coastal cities over the past few months, the number of Deep Divers under his command had exceeded eight hundred.

"It's still not enough."

This number might be enough for fighting, but Kriel's current goal is to build a city!

"You'll be primarily in charge of the Dagon Secret Order, and that's all you'll be responsible for thereafter."

"Yes."

Marcus accepted the order, but did not immediately leave. He hesitated for a moment before asking a question that had been on his mind for a long time.

"Boss, I've always been curious, what will we name our city after it's finished?"

This question plunged Creel into memories; he tried to recall those whispers, attempting to understand the whispering nights.

To be honest, even now, he hasn't fully understood those whispers. Each syllable of those sounds is like a bubble surging up from the deepest part of time, bursting in his consciousness, leaving behind not a clear meaning, but a vague, fragmented "understanding".

He can only try his best to understand some of the vocabulary now.

If he meets certain conditions, it will trigger a kind of... evolution, not at the level of the deep diver, but at a deeper level, a transformation of the life form itself.

He has already understood one of the conditions.

That is, to build a city at a specific coordinate. He hasn't figured out the exact address of that coordinate yet, but he can roughly guess that it's in the Pacific Ocean.

As for the name of that city...

Kriel closed his eyes.

The word resurfaced in the depths of his consciousness as he whispered, so clear it was less like a memory and more like an instinct etched into his genes.

"R'lyeh".

......

Washington, District 8.

In an apartment building, Jon Hansen was hiding in a wall cavity in a second-floor apartment.

Saying it's "lurking" isn't quite accurate.

A more accurate description is that it appeared as approximately 700,000 maggots, scattered throughout the building's pipes, wall cracks, ceiling cavities, and floor gaps.

Maggots are a great option. They don't require much management. Once converted, you can leave them aside and use them whenever you remember them.

Moreover, after nearly a week of practice, Jon has made a qualitative leap in his control over his body.

He is now confident that he can make these maggots gather into a complete human shape within ten minutes. Although the surface of that "human shape" is still covered with densely packed wriggling maggots, at least the shape is correct.

However, there is no need for Jon to materialize into human form now. The safest and most discreet way is for him to remain dispersed and lurk within the building structure.

He is very excited now.

Just a few days ago, he suddenly discovered that his body was actually carrying a terrifying virus.

Once infected, the person's vital signs will disappear within five hours, after which they will enter a completely infected flesh and blood monster.

Now, he is preparing to find a very influential person to act as his infected person zero, so as to spread the infection quickly and on a large scale!

Today, he found it.

Adrian Vaughn.

A British-American, he is one of Hollywood's hottest new stars in the past year, and has been dubbed "the world's most handsome boy" by major media outlets and fashion magazines around the world.

Yorn knew the name. He had seen this face almost every day on social media recommendations. The features were so exquisite they seemed unreal, the facial contours were somewhere between a teenager and a young adult, and the blue-gray eyes always held a lazy, slightly melancholic gleam.

To be honest, even Yorn had to admit that this face was really powerful; even when he was fully formed into human form, he had to temporarily avoid its sharp edge.

However, his appearance alone was not the reason why Jon chose him.

What truly excited Jon was a conversation he intercepted by a fly on the windowsill of a film studio office in Hollywood, Los Angeles.

Adrian Vaughn has just finished filming a big-budget movie.

After filming ended, his grandmother, Margaret Vaughan, needed to return to England for medical treatment due to health reasons, so she temporarily entrusted Adrian to the care of the production team.

The production team has decided to hold a wrap party tonight.

Location: A private bar.

Invited guests: Director, producer, lead actors, and...

The big shots of Hollywood.

The film's executives included the vice president of the distribution company, the editors-in-chief of several mainstream media outlets, partners of two well-known hedge funds, and even a federal senator, who was said to be a relative of one of the film's hidden investors.

Jorn's flies buzzed over the printout of the guest list, looking at each name one by one.

He became more and more excited as he looked, so excited that even the insects clinging to the ceiling began to wriggle faster involuntarily.

If all those important figures were infected...

"Hahaha, that's awesome! That's awesome!"