Chapter Thirty-Six: Mary’s Recent Situation and Dog Breeding

Louis was momentarily stunned—this voice sounded strangely familiar! It seemed to be... Mary?

Come to think of it, it had been more than half a year since escaping from the Emilia Estate, and this was the first time he had received a call from Mary.

“Mary?”

On the other end came Mary’s slightly joyful laughter. “Brother Louis, it’s me. How have you been?”

“It really is you. I’m fine. But why are you calling me?”

“Hehe, I got a cellphone.”

What followed was her eager chatter, somewhat rambling, and it seemed she was subtly pouring out her emotions. Louis quietly listened. Having escaped together at the time, she was a companion he treated with kindness, unlike the malicious Emma.

From Mary’s account, Louis gathered a rough idea of her recent circumstances. Since returning home, her mother had grown much stricter, forbidding even phone calls. She spent her days reading various books and practicing math problems, with no playmates—truly a lonely existence.

Only recently, when her mother passed away in bed and entrusted her to her uncle Frank, did she finally gain some space of her own.

That was why she called him now, knowing he was staying with Emma’s family.

“My uncle said he’s found a school for me and plans to send me there soon. I don’t really want to go, though. I feel like the teachers might not be as good as I am... Lately, I’ve been trying to solve more problems... I heard there are rewards for cracking some tough ones...”

“We’re by the sea here. It’s beautiful. By the way, Louis, where do you live with Emma?”

“Orlando. What about you?”

“I’m in Tampa.”

Tampa, the third-largest city in Florida, lies on the central coast. The two places were not that far from each other.

They talked for an hour until faint male voices calling for dinner came through the phone; Mary paused.

Meanwhile, Louis, who was carving a peachwood statue by hand, refocused on the call.

“I have to go eat now, Louis. I’ll call you again.”

“All right, got it.”

Click.

The call ended.

Louis carefully felt the tiny statue in his hand; it had no rough edges. He smiled with satisfaction. “Phew, looks good.”

He strung the statue on a red cord and placed it down, then looked toward a certain direction—the coastal area where Tampa was located.

“That little Mary’s life seems fairly steady. Tampa’s not far and by the sea; when I grow up, I might go see it.”

Compared to his own life, Mary’s was indeed stable.

Just then, the phone rang again.

Curious, he answered.

This time, it was really the dog delivery!

…

Louis looked at the twenty or so hollow plastic crates before him, stroking his chin.

Waving his hand, he called over his bodyguard to move the pups into a newly built warehouse at the back of the mountain.

Considering he had to raise the dogs, conduct experiments, and practice sorcery, having a sufficiently spacious place was necessary—hence the warehouse.

Raising dogs was a science. These pups had just been born and hadn’t even opened their eyes yet; they had been fed in the car all this time.

Birds have an instinct to recognize the first creature they see as their mother, but dogs rely more on their sense of smell.

However, puppies before opening their eyes are underdeveloped and have poor olfactory sensitivity. Only after opening their eyes can they recognize and remember scents. Louis intended to train two special breeds: mountain herding dogs and wolf pack dogs, which had unique taboos.

Besides some medicinal broths, mountain herding dogs had to stay with their owner from the moment they opened their eyes—feeding, sleeping, everything. Even if the owner left and returned, they had to be thoroughly cleaned before resuming contact. This prevented contamination by other scents, which could ruin the dog’s potential.

Only after a month could the next phase of training begin—commands, guarding food, physical conditioning.

At this stage, the dog would already be an ordinary mountain herding dog, but mastery of canine arts was far more complex.

Further training required ingesting special materials and even cultivating instincts to evolve into a rare breed used in mountain search and demon hunting.

As for the wolf pack dog, a unique breed born from East-West exchanges during the Ming and Qing dynasties, fused with techniques from the Neon Great Tengu of Japan, its potential was the lowest among the three breeds but matured fastest and bore a distinctly sinister flair!

Its training was also bloody and bizarre.

Louis licked his lips and opened one of the yellow crates. Inside was a small beige Shandong Fine Dog, curled up and cutely opening and closing its mouth.

He picked it up, and the little creature immediately yipped and squirmed, its legs flailing helplessly. It was too small to do anything but look adorable.

Chuckling, he cradled it in his arms. “This little one’s nickname will be Little Yellow. As for a proper name...”

“Never mind, let’s call you Golden.”

Gold had always been precious; Louis felt it was a fitting name for a future legendary divine dog.

The mountain herding dogs were ready. Next came the wolf pack dogs—the key to his upcoming slight boost in combat power.

Louis looked at the twenty or so crates filled with ferocious breeds, began unlocking them, and then... started feeding.

…

Wolf pack dogs.

Their breed had to be fierce enough, and they needed daily feeding with wolf’s blood and raw meat, mixed with sorcery. Finally, they had to be made to fight each other relentlessly—daily battles where casualties were acceptable—until one emerged as the undisputed alpha.

The alpha then had to consume the bodies of fallen dogs; their bones were ground into powder and mixed with cinnabar, human blood, and other ingredients to paint talismans.

Next, an eagle was killed, its wings, bones, and blood taken and fused with the talismans into the alpha dog’s body through secret arts.

Finally, the trainer would slash their own wrist to feed the dog the blood, completing the ritual.

The result was a terrifying alpha dog capable of spreading its wings freely, commanding the pack, possessing extraordinary eyesight, resisting ghosts, and easily killing humans.

The entire process was saturated with bloodshed.

From today on, Louis immersed himself fully in the warehouse to practice canine arts.

He ventured out only briefly each day to concoct medicinal broths.

He trained this way for two months straight.

Inside the warehouse, Louis stood aside, quietly observing a battle unfolding.

A sandy-colored pit bull and a black Rottweiler stared fiercely at each other.

Beneath them lay two overturned dog bowls once filled with raw pork.

A low, guttural growl emerged from their throats.

Though still young, their innate combativeness, fueled by the raw meat, was unrestrained. They looked sharp and ferocious.

Suddenly—

A roar!

The fight was about to erupt!