I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

He breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to ask someone to get a flashlight to check if there was a problem with the circuit breaker or if the light bulb was burnt out.

Just as Johnson turned his head, he felt the warmth of a person behind him.

It's a very subtle, tingling, radiating sensation that only a standing person can feel, like the pressure felt by the hairs on your arm when the sun shines on it.

But there's definitely no one else behind Johnson!

His heartbeat, which had been gradually slowing down, suddenly started racing like a race car engine.

Johnson's stiff neck slowly turned around, and before he could see anything, he heard a soft murmur in his ear.

"Finally found it."

It was a soft, sweet voice, like a young girl's gentle murmur.

The next moment, Johnson saw a woman behind him, dressed in a brightly colored cheongsam, like a blooming dahlia, covering her face with a fan, her alluring gaze fixed on him.

"Shall we play a game?"

In the brief moment when his consciousness left his body, Johnson heard the whispers of the devil.

Chapter 683 The Demon Descends

"...It is understood that the attack targeted a hacker group's base in Northern Europe. Police investigations at the scene revealed that, according to the residence registration, more than 30 members of the group should have lived there, but only the remains of some members and traces of certain religious rituals were found at the scene. Due to the complexity of the situation, the police stated that further investigation is needed, and no organization has yet claimed responsibility for the incident."

The news on the phone was playing the latest reports, which made the officer in charge, Eisenwell, shake his head.

"What is all this nonsense? Are our journalists not even allowed to tell the truth?"

Wearing a mask, Eisenwell put away his phone, pulled back the police tape, and walked into the abandoned factory.

"Buddy, you know, if we tell the people that we don't know why these people turned out like this, we'll probably be out of a job the next day."

Another police officer standing nearby said that he had also put on a mask and gloves.

The two passed through a white shed, changed into white protective suits to prevent contamination, and finally entered the abandoned factory.

A strong smell of blood wafted over, a stench so intense that even seasoned butchers who worked in slaughterhouses every day would find it unbearable. Eisenwell, a detective with sixteen years of experience, vomited into his isolation suit the first time he saw this and experienced severe dizziness, which only subsided slightly several hours later.

What Eisenwell and his colleagues were presented with a hellish scene that even Dante's Divine Comedy could not depict.

Frozen flesh and blood were splattered everywhere—on the walls, tables, computers, and even the ceiling. According to the forensic examination, the flesh and blood were thrown up with tremendous force, the impact causing the flesh fragments to flatten into a pancake. The forensic experts speculated that this state could only have occurred if an explosion equivalent to a cannonball had taken place inside the human body.

But think about it carefully, how could a person possibly cause such an explosion?

Eisenwell looked to the other side. On the ground, countless chunks of flesh were fused together like living worms, with only the outlines of humans vaguely discernible. There were at least five people here, twisted together in a distorted way. No one but a demon could imagine why they were like this.

In another corner of the factory, there were some even more bizarre corpses. The bones, muscles, and blood vessels of these corpses formed a kind of tentacle-like structure. Of course, this is just the forensic doctor's description. In reality, these people's forms had collapsed, turning into bizarre and terrifying monsters. Fortunately, they were all riddled with bullet holes, presumably having been dealt with by others in the abandoned factory.

Just by thinking about it, you can imagine a scenario where your companions turn into monsters one by one, and you have to kill them with a gun, until you yourself can't escape your tragic fate.

Of course, that's outrageous.

Eisenwell is more inclined to believe that some cruel, cunning, and perverted thugs are venting their sadistic desires here.

He arrived at a room where the situation was even more horrific, with half-eaten corpses, lumps of flesh that had stopped writhing, and monsters with tentacles growing out of them.

Here, Eisenwell noticed something strange on the table.

That was a helmet.

Eisenwell certainly recognized that helmet.

It is [Morning Star].

He himself doesn't pay much attention to this kind of gaming equipment, but his son, who is in junior high school, is a huge fan of LuBan and insists that he get one for him.

Fortunately, after learning that Lu Ban's device only supports Chinese, his son calmed down a bit. Eisenwell even suggested that his son learn Chinese, since it wouldn't hurt.

"How did this thing get here?"

"Eisenwell asked."

"【Morning Star】Ah, our technical team investigated the computer's hard drive here and found that this hacker group may have been working on cracking this device. Unfortunately, they seem to have failed. There are no relevant files on the hard drive, and the device seems to have no other problems besides being disassembled."

A colleague nearby answered.

"Oh."

Eisenwell looked away from the helmet, concluding that the attack likely occurred while the people were trying to crack the code, and that the helmet wasn't directly related to the case.

He looked around, and suddenly, a flash of inspiration made Eisenwell look at the ground.

He saw on the floor of an office chair that the bloodstains seemed to form a kind of regular pattern.

Look here.

Eisenwell cautiously approached the chair, crouched down, asked for a flashlight, and illuminated the ground.

He saw a shoe print on the congealed blood.

There were many shoe prints left at the scene, enough to testify to the panic of those present at the time, but these shoe prints were different from others.

This is a woman's shoe print.

As a seasoned detective, Eisenwell immediately recognized the footprints as those of a young woman in high heels. She was quite slender and walked through the blood-stained ground without showing any panic.

As is widely known, this organization is registered, and the death list that has been traced so far does not include any women.

Who is this woman?

Eisenwell had a vague feeling that he might have grasped the key to the matter.

Just then, his phone rang.

In this quiet yet busy crime scene, the sudden ringing of the bell sent a chill down the spines of many.

Eisenwell glanced at the incoming call and saw it was from his boss.

He hurriedly left the scene and went to a place where the air was a little fresher to answer the phone.

“It’s me, I’m at the scene, we’ve found some clues… What? Wait, but I… Okay, I understand.”

Eisenwell hung up the phone.

His superior just told him that all materials related to the case should be sealed immediately, the case should be closed immediately, and no further investigation should be conducted.

This was incomprehensible to Eisenwell.

But he had seen this situation before; he encountered such treatment in cases involving areas he couldn't touch.

Although the detective's intuition told Eisenwell that there might be something bigger going on, he suppressed his curiosity.

After get off work, Eisenwell drove home and habitually turned on the car radio as background music.

At this time, he heard some noteworthy news.

"...According to our reporter, an explosion occurred early this morning at the experimental base of xxxx company located in xxxx. Several engineers died in the accident. It is understood that the experimental base..."

He listened to a news report on the radio about an unexpected incident involving a weapons company, and inexplicably felt a sense of déjà vu.

As Eisenwell turned up the radio volume slightly and shifted his gaze from the station to the front, he suddenly saw a woman in a cheongsam with a voluptuous figure standing in front of his car.

He slammed on the brakes, but the woman seemed completely oblivious, covering her face with her fan as she walked across the street.

Horns and roars came from behind, but Eisenwell was stunned and unable to start the car.

An unsettling premonition arose in Eisenwell's mind, and he managed to turn his gaze away from the street corner where the woman had disappeared.

dong dong dong-

The traffic police officer on duty knocked on Eisenwell's window, and he lowered it.

"Sir, are you having any problems?"

"That's what the traffic policeman asked."

"No, I didn't. I was just trying to avoid that lady..."

Eisenwell was somewhat incoherent.

"Miss?"

The traffic police looked at Eisenwell suspiciously, like they would look at drug addicts who had gone on a speeding spree.

"There are no ladies or gentlemen here; this is right in the middle of the street."

The traffic policeman said.

Eisenwell felt his back was soaked with sweat.

Chapter 684 Blizzard Mountain Villa

Zheng Li was, of course, unaware of these strange and unusual events that had occurred on the other side of the ocean.

He yawned; the long journey had made the college student feel tired, and the gloom outside the window blocked out the sunlight, making him feel down.

He glanced at the trunk, where his suitcase lay quietly, containing [Morning Star].

A month after the release of Morning Star, no one has been able to complete The Conjuring. However, players have discovered many clues. Some players have gone to extremes, calling NPCs into their rooms and saving their game after each dialogue, recording almost all the conversations.

In extremely complex situations, finding a way to pass the level is incredibly difficult.

Even if players can continuously loop and repeat time, and even have countless "clones" advancing simultaneously around the world, solving the problem is still too difficult.

So Zheng Li attended the gathering.

The gathering was organized by people from the gaming forum, and it had a bit of an in-person meeting aspect. Several netizens brought their equipment to a villa on the outskirts of Yannan to play the game together for a few days, trying to master it.

To put it simply, it's about getting together to have fun.

"Coming."

The taxi driver said something, and Zheng Li looked ahead. After turning a corner, the villa suddenly appeared in front of him.

It must be said that these villas nestled among the mountains are indeed visually striking.

The villa has a Western-style design and may have been a mansion built in the past. There are only about a dozen villas in this area. Cars can only go up to the parking lot at the foot of the mountain, and Zheng Li has to walk the rest of the way.

Fortunately, it was a relatively gentle uphill slope. Zheng Li pulled his suitcase and soon arrived at the main gate of the villa. He looked around at the villas and saw that none of them seemed to be occupied. Perhaps this was a case of being rich and willful, buying but not living in them.

Are you the [Dark Executioner]?

The person waiting at the door saw Zheng Li and immediately asked.