Dual Transmigration: American Prison, Surviving to a Fantasy Development Stage

Sarah paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up.

She wasn't following Lin Feng for money; she knew that better than anyone.

But at this moment, Lin Feng directly transferred assets worth hundreds of millions of US dollars to her name. This trust and attention still stirred a warm feeling in her heart.

She didn't say anything mushy, she just leaned over and kissed Lin Feng on the cheek.

McKenna watched this scene with a complex mix of emotions in her eyes—envy and a touch of jealousy. Who wouldn't love a farm worth hundreds of millions of dollars?

Outside the window, the Texas sun shines brightly.

Sarah and McKenna both believe that the 10 acres of land will soon have a new owner.

"Honey, the name 'Black Lotus Ranch' sounds really exciting."

"In that case, it's settled."

Three days have passed, and the Locke family's farm has officially been put up for auction.

McKenna took out a stack of documents and handed them to Lin Feng.

"These are all our competitors, including Brisco Farms, King Ranch, and Wagner Ranch in Texas."

The most powerful is Texas Pacific Land Company, a publicly traded company and a mining group.

Its market capitalization is approximately $400 billion.

Lin Feng asked, "Oh, really? Has anyone been visiting the farm recently?"

"I haven't heard of that yet. There isn't a single person in charge in the entire village right now, not even a cowboy."

Lin Feng said, "Well, no rush, they'll send someone sooner or later."

"Um"

The previous jade token had already been placed in the farm.

Whoever goes there will be unlucky.

Moreover, thanks to McKenna's vigorous promotion, the news of the Locke family's rural village being cursed spread like wildfire.

Following a series of unexpected events at the Locke family farm, the FBI dispatched a team to investigate.

The team leader was a seasoned veteran who had worked in the bureau for over twenty years and had seen all sorts of deranged killers and perfect crimes, but this situation left him scratching his head.

He brought top criminal investigation experts, and they investigated everything from ballistic analysis to trace evidence examination, from surveillance footage to fingerprint collection.

The results of it?

Got nothing.

The surveillance footage on the hard drive was crystal clear—those deaths were indeed accidents.

The autopsy results for the man who was kicked to death by a horse confirmed that he was indeed killed by a horse's hoof.

The person who was electrocuted did indeed make a mistake while repairing the water pump, touching the electrical wires with wet hands.

The one who was burned to death was even more outrageous. Surveillance footage showed him drunk in the warehouse, holding a bottle of liquor. He started the fire himself and just stood there watching it burn. By the time he tried to run away, it was too late.

There were no signs of human intervention.

"This is fucking bizarre." The old detective took off his glasses and rubbed his sore eyes.

The subordinate tentatively asked, "Could it really be... a curse?"

"Bullshit!" The old detective glared at him, but he couldn't explain it either.

If this is murder, then the killer is practically a god.

After a week of investigation, no results were found, and the case could only be closed as an accident.

Pacific Land Company, a publicly listed company, does not believe in the "curse" claim at all.

During a meeting of their risk assessment team, a young analyst mentioned supernatural factors and was immediately and severely reprimanded by the project manager.

"We are a publicly traded company. You want me to say at the board meeting that we are abandoning the acquisition because we suspect there is a curse?"

I might as well just pack my bags and leave!

They are more inclined to believe that someone deliberately created these incidents to scare away competitors in order to acquire the farm at a low price.

They've seen this kind of underhanded tactic all the time in the business world.

On this day, the auction company organized a site visit for all interested buyers to Locke Farm.

The group was quite large, with more than thirty people in total.

Pacific Land Company sent a professional assessment team.

There were about twenty people, including lawyers, accountants, farm assessment experts, and geological surveyors, all dressed in suits and exuding an air of authority.

Several other interested farms also sent representatives and lawyers.

Several staff members from the auction company were responsible for leading the team.

Rockwell, the youngest son of the Rock family, is also in this team at the age of twenty-four.

He is the current patriarch of the Locke family—although his father is dead, he is still alive.

According to the inheritance rights, the farm is now his.

The group traveled in seven or eight vehicles, heading deep into the farm.

Locke Farm is indeed large.

One hundred thousand acres, which is equivalent to six hundred thousand mu.

There are lakes, mountains and forests, wind farms, and several oil wells.

There were six villas on the ranch—Lin Feng burned one down, leaving five.

Three large warehouses, a super granary, and cattle sheds that can hold thousands of cattle.

The convoy had just approached the villa area when the unexpected happened.

"Bang"

The car in the lead suddenly had a flat right front tire.

The car swerved suddenly and almost crashed into a tree.

The driver jerked the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes, leaving a deep mark on the dirt road and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Rockwell, sitting in the second car, felt a chill run down his spine when he saw this.

His hands began to tremble.

The events that happened to the Locke family were still lingering in his mind.

The sixteen corpses on the farm, their gruesome deaths...

He made the sign of a cross on his chest, his voice trembling.

"Turn around, turn around immediately."

The driver was his confidant and knew about what had happened to the Locke family these days; his face had long since turned pale.

Upon hearing this, without saying a word, he stepped on the gas pedal to the floor, turned the steering wheel, and sped away.

The SUV kicked up a long trail of dirt on the dirt road before quickly disappearing from sight.

The auction company staff watched the car speed away, speechless.

"Mr. Locke is such a coward."

A young man curled his lip, his voice full of sarcasm, "It's just a flat tire. Which farm in Texas hasn't had a flat tire?"

Several lawyers shook their heads and chuckled, clearly dismissing the curse.

"Young people just can't keep their composure."

His father just passed away, so he's probably still traumatized.

"It's normal, it's normal. After all, he's only twenty-four years old. Anyone would be nervous taking on such a big business."

The manager of Pacific Land Company was a middle-aged white man in his forties, dressed in a sharp suit, with slicked-back hair and a Vacheron Constantin watch on his wrist.

He laughed heartily, his voice full of smugness.

"Isn't this perfect?"

Since they are not capable of managing this farm, then let us take over.

Locke Farm will soon be renamed.

The words had barely left his mouth—

"ah--!"

A piercing scream shattered the tranquility of the farm.

Everyone turned their heads sharply and saw an employee of the auction company clutching his foot in pain, hopping on one leg and almost falling to the ground.

He stepped onto a wooden plank.

The plank, which appeared out of nowhere, was just thrown into the roadside bushes, with a long, rusty nail hammered into it.

The nail pierced right through the sole of the foot, protruding from the instep. Blood dripped from the rusty nail.

"Fuck! Fuck! It hurts so much!"

He screamed in agony, his face deathly pale, and beads of sweat the size of beans rolling down his forehead.

The auction company employee, sweating profusely from the pain, managed a weak smile: "Sorry... I wasn't watching my step."

I can't give you a tour today, I need to go to the hospital first and make an emergency appointment.

You...you continue.

Everyone nodded, expressing their understanding.

He clutched his foot and limped toward the car.

Just then—

A gust of wind suddenly rose in the distance.

Tornadoes are common in Texas, occurring dozens of times a year, and nobody takes them seriously.

Several experienced cowboys even looked up at the sky to see if the wind would pick up.

But the next second—

"Bang!"

A loud bang.

A huge "GG" sign fell from the sky and landed right where the employee had just been standing.

It was a metal GG sign, weighing at least several dozen kilograms. When it fell from the sky, it created a large crater in the ground.

If he were still standing there, he would be a meat patty by now.

A chill instantly shot up from everyone's tailbone and straight to the top of their head.

The expressions on the other people's faces changed instantly.

The relaxation and comfort I felt just moments ago vanished completely in an instant.

Some people subconsciously took a step back, while others' eyes flashed with a hint of seriousness.

The lawyers exchanged glances, all seeing unease in each other's eyes.

They couldn't help but be nervous.

They had barely arrived at the farm gate when first their tire blew out, then their foot got punctured, and then they were out of luck.

This is just too unlucky!

My bad luck is a bit uncanny.

It seems they won't stop until they're dead.

The manager of Pacific Land Company froze, his smile gone, and shut his mouth, refusing to speak again.

The group looked at each other, and no one spoke.

"Fuck! Run! Run!"