Chapter One: Emilia’s Child

America.

Late 1980s.

The era of bipolar rivalry was drawing to a close. As the old empire’s crisis intensified, the final victor was poised to claim the crown of the so-called lighthouse. Prosperity blossomed in this nation like a dazzling flower.

Florida, Miami.

A kidnapping occurred within the famed Carno family; the third son’s illegitimate child had vanished without a trace. In an age marked by the enactment of the Anti-Racketeering and Bribery Organization Act, gangs suffered severe blows, but the Carno family, rooted in Miami for seventy years and now local overlords, remained formidable. As a result, the streets and alleys were filled with hurried figures, eyes scanning their surroundings, searching for something.

This commotion lasted a long time, yet the rumoredly clever illegitimate child was never found. Whispers suggested he had descended into hell.

...

Mississippi.

Within a manor in a small town.

A group of children, diverse in skin color, sat quietly in a large room. None were older than eight or nine, the youngest barely three or four—a restless age, yet each watched the staircase with fearful eyes, silent and still.

Among them, a boy hung his head as two little girls gently kicked him.

Louis awoke from a haze, gazing in shock at the unfamiliar surroundings, then quickly regaining composure.

“All right, Mary, Emma, I’m fine.”

The two girls stopped kicking.

Louis, now awake, also looked toward the bend in the staircase, his eyes filled with curiosity and caution.

Thud, thud, thud!

The dull sound of high heels striking wooden floorboards echoed. Down the stairs came a woman in a nightgown, her figure voluptuous, her face lined with age yet still retaining traces of beauty. Blonde hair framed her features. Beside her followed a robust white boy.

The woman’s gaze was greedy yet affectionate as she produced a vial from her body.

“Oh, Noel, look at these children. See which one meets the requirements. You know, there are only a few years left. If you can’t give me new life, I’ll need a new husband.”

“Mother, I—I understand.”

The boy, Noel, looked at the obedient children in the living room, his eyes showing both pity and a flicker of anger.

The woman settled into a recliner. “Mary, Emma, come here.”

Louis’ heart skipped. The two girls beside him, faces tinged with fear, forced calm expressions and hurried over.

---

The woman greedily caressed their smooth skin, her fingers brushing their cheeks, even extending her tongue to lightly lick an earlobe.

“So young… so very young… If my child hadn’t been stolen, I’d be just like this now.”

She murmured softly.

Louis had no time to ponder these words.

Under the terrified gazes of the children, Noel dragged forward the oldest child, dripped the vial’s liquid into a cup, and forced him to drink.

Gulp, gulp...

Then—

Bang!

The boy’s face flushed red, but soon came a burst of sound from below, followed by screams and blood.

Noel’s expression turned grim as he pulled one child after another forward, like a reaper calling names. Soon, all the nine-year-olds lay fallen, the air thick with the stench of blood.

“Useless! I really wonder if those people taking my money are deceiving me. Are these supposed to be the cleverest children from every state?! Liars! Liars!”

Emilia’s beautiful yet furious face twisted with rage.

Noel hurriedly herded the children back to their respective rooms, like livestock. Space was scarce; four children curled together in a cramped room.

Louis found himself with Emma, Mary, and a cold, aloof girl.

Huddled on the sofa, Louis began to reflect.

His memories of a previous life needed no elaboration—a tale of good intentions unrewarded. In this life, he was the illegitimate son of the Carno family’s third son. His mother was Chinese, his father of Italian descent. Despite being born into a mafia family and illegitimate, life had been decent, even marked by a reputation for genius and his grandfather’s attention.

Until recently—abducted on the way to kindergarten, meeting two girls during trafficking, and finally arriving here.

Today, in an attempt to escape, he and the girls secretly witnessed the horrific fate of the boys forced to drink the potion, which triggered his early awakening of memory.

Recalling the bloody corpses, Louis frowned unconsciously.

Don’t misunderstand; his frown was not merely for the tragedy, but also for everything he’d experienced in the manor in such a short time.

That aged woman, Emilia, was deteriorating unnaturally fast. And she seemed to be… a witch.

Yes, a witch.

They’d seen her eyes roll back, and watched as she levitated children attempting escape.

This explained why everyone trembled, unable to resist.

Just then—

“Portuguese.”

---

Mary, the blonde girl flipping through a book, closed it and spoke.

The three looked at her. “What?”

“I said, the old witch and her son speak Portuguese. I’ve checked—it’s all in this book.”

“You mean you can learn a language just by reading?” the aloof girl asked with a wry smile.

“Of course. é muito simples—it’s very simple,” Mary declared, as if it were obvious.

The aloof girl was shocked, her expression relaxing as if she wanted to say something. Mary, proud and expectant, looked to Emma, seeking her friend’s astonished reaction, but Emma maintained a faint, calm smile, her gaze drifting to Louis.

Seeing this, Mary wrinkled her nose and turned to Louis, who gave no reaction but ran over.

Louis wasn’t concerned with their little games.

Portuguese—could this place be Portugal?

Impossible. Despite all the transfers, the timing didn’t add up; there’d been no flights or ships. Most likely, they were still in America.

So… Portuguese ancestry? No, if their daily conversation was in Portuguese, they were probably immigrants. This was, after all, the world’s largest immigrant nation.

Portuguese immigrants in America. A witch. Collecting children. Forcing older kids to take potions.

What was the purpose?

Recalling the woman’s whispered words when hugging the girls, he wondered—

“Curiosity killed the cat. The urgent task is to find a way out,” Louis muttered.

“Louis, do you think my Portuguese is correct?”

Mary, the proud prodigy, handed over the book like a peacock displaying its feathers, rattling off a string of Portuguese.

“Oh, oh.”

Louis replied absently, glancing at the book.

In the next moment, his gaze froze.

He stared intently at the book written in Portuguese.

Before his eyes, the book’s appearance grew blurry, shifting dramatically.

Four ancient, familiar characters appeared on the cover.

Code of the Occult!