American Horror Story: A Tale of Terror from Silent Hill

Chapter 192 The Visitor, Out and About
In the depths of hell, not a blade of grass grows.

This is a desolate place where lava flows and erupts at will.

Hot winds stirred the sulfurous lake, and on the rugged, ravine-strewn landscape, a flat, massive platform rose up.

There stands a magnificent palace.

Inside the palace, atop the skull throne, Mephisto, the recently returned lord of hell, lay still in his seat with his eyes closed.

What exactly is he doing?

Is he resting with his eyes closed, or is he simply sleeping?

Or perhaps, she was saddened by the death of her son, the Black Heart Demon.

The answer is—neither.

He was reflecting on and reviewing his failures.

Why did things go from being on a winning streak to being kicked back to hell?

Has his wisdom truly declined?
Mephisto would occasionally consider this possibility, but he would quickly dismiss it. He was in his prime, a rising sun, and he could not underestimate himself!

He maintained that posture for a very, very long time.

In the silent palace, he was alone, lost in thought, pondering how to make a comeback.

And this process of finding the answer was exceptionally long.

Sometimes, Mephisto couldn't help but think of his son, Darkheart.

It wasn't because of the lack of fatherly love between father and son, but rather... the fun.

In the past, the Blackheart Demon always liked to summon some demons or low-level minions to the inner hall to perform his special skills.

Among them, those who amaze the audience will occasionally emerge, and their wonderful performances will bring unexpected surprises.

But Mephisto would often rebuke the Dark Lord for this, scolding him for being a playboy who did nothing but play all day long.

Looking back now, I still feel a bit nostalgic.

Suddenly, Mephisto opened his eyes, his magnificent and powerful crimson demonic body shifting to a backward-leaning posture.

What is he going to do?

Is it time to come up with a solution?

"Mammon, son of hell. What brings you here?"

Mephisto picked up the sizzling glass of red wine, took a small sip, and seemed to completely disregard the visitor.

"I heard your son died on earth, killed by another demon, leaving not even a trace."

Mammon was thin and short, with a rather large head, resembling an alien from ancient times. Despite his unremarkable physique, the aura he exuded was exceptionally strong.

“A useless piece of trash, he’s dead, so be it. You came all this way just to talk about this? What, you want to be my son?” Mephisto said indifferently.

Mammon's face darkened, but he continued, "That won't be necessary. Mephisto, I'm here to discuss cooperation."

Mephisto scoffed: "Cooperation? You're finally getting dissatisfied with your father, but unfortunately, in my opinion, you're far from qualified to challenge him."

"You failed in the human world, but I can give you a chance to return to it."

Mammon's words were nothing short of explosive; such a promise is not something that can be given lightly!
“You have such a good thing, why don’t you do it yourself and give it to me? You don’t have that kind of heart.”

"The strong lead the way, you're a veteran of Hell, why would I hesitate to give you my chance? Besides, since I'm giving you a chance, I won't forget to leave one for myself. So, do you dare to try again?"

Mammon's words were sharp, and his intention to provoke was undisguised.

Mephisto became serious this time. He would seize any opportunity, even if it was a trap, because there would always be risks involved in doing great things.

“Mammon, what can you give me?” “A vessel for your descent. Of course, how you carry out your birth is up to you. With your plans, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

"What's the price?"

"Clear away the obstacles before I am born."

……

Boom boom boom!
The silver-white motorcycle sped along, its wheels rolling, its streamlined body leaving a cool silver trail across the green fields.

Sprint! Sprint! Sprint!

The driver was none other than Baling, whom we hadn't seen in a long time.

The motorcycle he was riding was a limited edition gift from Johnny. Baling loved it so much that he named it "Heavenly Ice".

Today is a day for going out and having fun.

As the saying goes, "A happy event makes one feel refreshed," and Baling was in high spirits after resolving the imminent crisis.

Suddenly, Baling took his hands off the handlebars, and the front of the vehicle rose high, like a horse raising its front hooves, but the rear wheel was still spinning at high speed.

"Hahaha, Johnny, how was my move? How does it compare to yours?"

"Ten percent, or even nine percent! Senior, your driving skills are getting better and better. In a few days, I'm afraid I'll have to hand over my title as the king of stunt drivers, the king of crash resistance, to Johnny the Stunt Driver."

With its front wheel lowered and rear wheel raised high, the motorcycle, painted with flame patterns, runs alongside Baling's motorcycles in a different way.

And the one with such driving skills is Johnny.

"You're being modest. Don't flatter me just because we're friends. Your idea of ​​flying over a helicopter is something I could never surpass."

“It wasn’t my idea; it was my father’s. I was doing what he hadn’t finished.”

"That's amazing too."

The two men drove their motorcycles in all sorts of bizarre ways while desperately accelerating, competing with each other.

Sometimes the motorcycle spins forward like a top, and sometimes it snakes forward like a cobra.

When encountering a large obstacle, they had to take off on the spot, spin several hundred times in the air, and then land on the ground to continue driving forward.

No matter how treacherous the road conditions, Baling and Johnny are like flat ground, posing no challenge whatsoever.

"Hehehe! Watch my lightning drift."

Baling arrived at a narrow, winding road, which was also a dangerous downhill section, but he was not flustered at all, and even wanted to show off his skills.

"Old Ba, your cornering is so perfect, my motorcycle spirit can't be suppressed anymore! Watch my blade overtake!"

Johnny's motorcycle was almost parallel to the ground, and he was practically standing on the side of the motorcycle, overtaking Baling's motorcycle from the inside in an extremely bizarre way.

"What! To actually use such a move, Johnny, your stunt performance skills are just like my status in the demon world—always outstanding!"

Baling was half a car length behind, but he was not discouraged. Instead, he sincerely praised Baling.

Before long, their speed increased again.

"Johnny, ahead lies a wide rift valley. Beyond that lies another vast plain. Do you dare to try a car ride even more thrilling than leaping over a football field?!"

Baling has exceptional eyesight; he could see the distant landscape from a great distance, and a fun and exciting idea immediately came to mind.

"Why wouldn't I dare? Just imagining it makes me so excited I could cry. Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

Without the slightest hesitation, Johnny was already adjusting his posture, ready to leap across the Great Rift Valley at any moment.

Baling laughed loudly: "Haha, that's bold enough, then let's go!"

(End of this chapter)