RNP Chapter 343 Relics, Evil Spirits, and the Monocle
Chapter 343 Relics, Evil Spirits, and the Monocle
Chapter 343 Relics, Evil Spirits, and the Monocle
"You—what do you want to do!"
Amidst Raft's tearful voice, Lorne slowly spoke, "I intend to let the god of fate decide your destiny."
"Look," he said, waving the revolver in his hand, "there's a bullet in this gun."
"If you survive the next five shots unscathed, then I'll believe what you just said, and we'll leave immediately without causing you any trouble—"
"But if not—" Lorne's expression became playful.
"Wait! Wait! I really don't know anything!" Raft shouted excitedly, his shirt soaked with cold sweat. "And if you really think I'm hiding something, how can you do it in such a childish way—"
"Spiritual communication".
His remaining words were abruptly cut off by Lorne's cold, detached remark.
"I think you understand this concept to some extent."
"The dead can't keep secrets—it's just a bit more troublesome."
"So—" Lorne's fingers lightly flicked the hammer, producing a crisp "click," "Even if I was wrong, so what?"
"You—you—"
Looking at Lorne's undisguised mocking smile and at Raft Pound, who was trembling with fear and unable to straighten up, Marich, who was standing to the side, and Sharon, who was hiding in the shadows, all felt a strange sense of surprise.
How did he suddenly exude such a vivid and domineering aura? This doesn't seem like acting at all.
Moreover, he also carries the halo of "Eastern District Hero". The combination of these two factors creates an incredibly peculiar and absurd sense of contrast.
Looking at the dark, oily barrel, Raft was so frightened that he couldn't utter a complete sentence.
"Click."
With a smile on his face, Lorne decisively pulled the trigger.
The sound of an empty cabin was particularly jarring in the quiet room.
"Oh, you didn't win." Lorne's tone was full of undisguised regret. "You were lucky. Come on, let's—continue."
As he spoke, he raised the muzzle of his gun once more, aiming it at Raft's already bloodless forehead.
This time, Raft's psychological defenses completely collapsed. He could sense that the other person was truly going to shoot, and truly didn't care about his life or death! That chilling killing intent materialized and enveloped him.
"I—I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!" he practically screamed.
He had always believed that his years of depravity and decline were all for the sake of his family's revival. If that was the case, how could he possibly die here before dawn, in such an inexplicable way?
Even if I stubbornly refuse to admit it, the other party might still kill me and then perform a "spirit medium" ritual. Rather than making a pointless sacrifice, it's better to proactively reveal the information; perhaps that will give me a chance to survive!
And so, he revealed all the secrets of the Tudor family—
"Tudor? Is it the Tudor of the Tudor dynasty?" Lorne's eyes lit up when he heard the name.
No—that's right.
That's the Blood Emperor! If Raft wants to recreate his ancestors' glory, then the secret beneath his house is far greater than imagined! It may very well involve a fallen empire and the hidden secrets of a high-sequence powerhouse!
Could it be that—it contains some extraordinary property that the Blood Emperor uses as a backup plan, or something else extraordinary?
And—that mysterious evil spirit that was sealed away—
Seeing Lorne fall silent in thought, Raft felt a chill run down his spine. To be honest, he was only 10 years old back then and didn't really know what was inside those ruins, only that an extremely terrifying ghost was sealed within.
Lorne glanced at Raft, then took a coin from his pocket with his other hand and tossed it gently upwards. Watching the coin land heads up on the back of his hand, he smiled with satisfaction and put away his revolver.
However, before Raft could fully relax, Lorne's amused voice rang in his ears again.
"How about we come together and take a look at those ruins?"
"What?!" Rought thought he had misheard.
"Literally. You'll come with us to explore the depths of those ruins—" Lorne looked down at him. "Since those ruins are related to the Tudor Dynasty, and you are one of the few descendants of the Tudor family, there might be some special arrangements inside that only your bloodline can trigger or understand. Your presence will save us a lot of trouble."
"I—I—" Raft instinctively wanted to refuse. He had already revealed the family's greatest secret, and now he was going to bring outsiders to desecrate the family's heritage—
That would mean the family's last vestige of glory is gone! And—there are ghosts in there!
"You have two choices," Lorne said with a smile, but his words were devoid of any warmth, "either come with us willingly, or—let us take your corpse with us."
"I believe that a fresh corpse containing the blood of the Tudors might have a similar effect in the face of certain rituals or mechanisms."
Once those words were out of his mouth, Raft knew he couldn't refuse.
"Don't be so scared." Seeing his terrified look, Lorne stepped forward and, like an old friend, put his arm around his shoulder. "If you really find any hidden treasure inside, I promise I'll share some with you—"
"Really? Really?" Raft asked in disbelief.
"Do you have any other choice?" Lorne retorted. "Looking at you now, after all these years, what do you have to offer to revive your family? Alcohol and women?"
"If it were that easy to revive, your old viscount uncle could have done it back then, and it would never have been your turn. Cooperating with us might be your only chance in this lifetime. Otherwise, you can continue to degenerate until you die, and you may never see the so-called opportunity."
"I—" Raft lowered his head and nodded.
Sharon and Maritch didn't object to Lorne's sudden decision. However, Sharon was worried that Lorne's impulsive actions might get him into unnecessary trouble.
After all, that villa now belongs to him.
On the way to the ruins, the group had different thoughts.
Marich led the way, escorting Raft ahead, while Lorne and Sharon followed leisurely behind them.
-
"What did you just do—" Sharon finally couldn't hold back and wanted to ask Lorne why he suddenly threatened Raft, which was really unlike his usual style.
"I just feel that life has been too peaceful lately, without any passion."
"Of course, I'm not referring to the kind of passion you're thinking of—" He realized the ambiguity in his words and added, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips.
"We just explored the Amon family's tomb," Sharon's voice drifted over.
"That's different. James Scott shouldn't be like this. He should be more unrestrained, instead of being bound by the identity of a 'hero'—otherwise, it's hard to feel the joy of winning—"
"I've been feeling a bit depressed and uneasy lately, so I wanted to vent my emotions a little."
Sharon wanted to say something more, such as reminding him to be more restrained, but Lorne spoke first.
"Ms. Sharon, I know what you're trying to say. Don't let yourself get carried away or you'll easily lose control, right?"
"Don't worry, I just want to have a little fun. Besides, my methods are different from yours, so it's not that easy for me to cause trouble."
"Besides, I've done my own divination and have some predictions about the current situation. If we hadn't gotten involved, Mr. Raft wouldn't have fared much better. He would most likely have met a rather tragic end because of this ruin and his bloodline."
"Besides, that ruin is right below my house. How can I live in peace if I don't figure it out completely?"
Sharon fell silent, lost in thought.
Meanwhile, Raft, who was walking ahead, was also making his own plans.
He revealed almost everything he knew, including the existence of that terrifying evil spirit. However, he concealed one thing: the true strength of that evil spirit.
The evil spirit is extremely powerful and is definitely not something an ordinary person can deal with!
Originally, because of the tragic deaths of the two heirs, Raft had never dared to have any ideas about the ruins.
However, the situation is different now.
The evil spirit frantically slaughtered the Tudor bloodline, yet it could never escape the ruins, which meant that the other party was—
Even if it killed itself, it would most likely be of little use. In that case, would it be willing to try a different approach and "cooperate" with itself, who has the bloodline of Tudor, to find a way to help it break the seal? Otherwise, apart from itself, it is unlikely that any other Tudor bloodline will come knocking on its door in the short term.
He sighed, glanced at the taciturn man with his arm around his shoulder beside him, and listened to the footsteps behind him.
If these two people could really defeat the evil spirit and find some treasure—although he felt the possibility was almost nonexistent—perhaps the other party would keep their promise and share some with him?
For Raft, his feelings at this moment were incredibly conflicted and desperate. Regardless of whether Lorne and his group or the evil spirit ultimately won, he could only entrust his life to the victor's ethereal "feelings".
Therefore, the best outcome would be to put them in a stalemate with the evil spirit, giving him a chance to escape in the chaos.
Or perhaps—they would perish together, allowing him to win everything!
Like burglars breaking into a house, the group returned to the entrance of the ruins.
Before entering the ruins, Lorne suddenly pulled out a strangely shaped submachine gun from his pocket and handed it to Marich from behind.
"The paddle in the middle is for safety —"
-
Marich recognized the gun as the same model used against the libertarians and immediately nodded to take it.
Lorne then pulled out his monocle once more. He wanted to see for himself what this evil spirit, sealed away for thousands of years, really was.
Although Raft didn't reveal any specific details about the evil spirit, Lorne believed that for it to have existed for so long underground in a ruin, it must be something extraordinary.
My own spiritual intuition has also been sending warnings—
However, with three extraordinary beings working together, that evil spirit shouldn't be as difficult to deal with as the previous indulgent faction.
Even if you can't win a fight, you can always escape.
As they continued their exploration, the group soon arrived at the enormous stone gate they hadn't dared to enter before.
As soon as I pushed the door open.
A chilling wind suddenly swept through the surroundings, followed by a laugh filled with madness and malice that echoed through the empty hall.
"Hahahaha—the bloodline of Tudor—have they come to their deaths—?"
"They even specially brought a few poor ants to be buried with them."
Just as a certain evil spirit, sealed away for a thousand years, was enthusiastically preparing to make a grand and imposing entrance—
He suddenly saw one of the intruders pull out a monocle, slowly put it on his right eye, and then look at him with an interested expression.