Chapter 55: Despair—Terrible People Always Have Terrible Parents

On the other side.

David, who received the call, did not hesitate or consider whether it was a wrong number; he immediately dialed the emergency services.

“Uncle David, what’s wrong?”

“Angela and the others are in trouble. They said they were going to a place called Eden Lake to have fun, but just now they suddenly called and told me to call the police…”

As he spoke, David skillfully navigated a turn toward the Eden Lake area while trying to call Angela again.

Yet all he heard was a continuous busy signal, which made his heart sink.

He pressed the accelerator to the floor.

He couldn’t just wait for the police to find them. Since he was closer to Eden Lake, he could get there before the authorities and perhaps rescue his sister.

At that moment, Louis furrowed his brow.

Eden… Lake?

A grim and oppressive film flashed through his memory—a film in which a group of teenagers were the epitome of evil.

What left the deepest impression on him was that these youths had equally wicked, neglectful parents who shielded them at all costs, even to the extent of drowning the heroine in a bathtub to cover up their crimes and vent their wrath.

Sometimes, youth does not mean innocence; on the contrary, young people can commit atrocities far more horrifying than adults.

For example, he had heard of cases like the vanished couple and the three demons—more chilling than any adult crime.

Could Angela have been dragged into something like this?

If so, she was truly in deep trouble.

David drove faster and faster, regretting now that he had brought Louis along when picking up Yurenka—after all, Louis was still just a child.

But it was too late to change course now. Looking on the bright side, Louis was the son of a gang leader…

…

In the small town.

A group of people were preparing for a party.

Suddenly, two women, filthy and covered in scratches from branches, emerged from the bushes, looking at the houses and people around them as if they had returned to civilization.

Finally, they were saved!

Tears streamed down their dirt-streaked faces.

They staggered forward, calling out, “Help… please help us!”

Several townsfolk hurried over to support them, carrying them inside.

Some searched for first aid kits, others asked with concern what had happened, and some inquired whether to call the police—basic kindness evident in their actions.

Angela wiped her tears and was about to speak.

But Jenny quietly tugged her sleeve.

Following Jenny’s gaze, Angela noticed two dog bowls on the floor, one with a dog eating from it, the other labeled “Bonnie.”

!!!

Angela could not describe the feeling—it felt as though her heart had stopped beating for a moment.

On the wall hung a photograph—none other than the wicked youth, Bright!

This was Bright’s home!

What did this mean?

Having barely escaped, thinking they had found salvation, why—why did it turn out like this?

Jenny began trembling uncontrollably.

Fortunately, Jenny quickly pressed her hand over Angela’s mouth.

“Sorry, we feel a bit sick. Let’s use the bathroom.”

With that, she swiftly led Angela to the restroom and locked the door.

“What do we do? What do we do?”

“One last stand.”

The two women found a razor, gripping it tightly, their eyes filled with despair yet determination as they stared at the door.

Then, voices came from outside.

“Bright? What’s going on with you all?”

“Dad! Dad! There’s… there’s a ghost!”

“We were just playing with them today… They killed Bonnie, and I lost my temper… Two women killed Claire and ran away…”

“To avenge Claire, we tied up two men…”

“Later, we found a golden arm, and then, then…”

Bright’s voice sounded weak, pitiful, and helpless. Meanwhile, the story he told subtly shifted; his companions murmured in agreement.

The facts had morphed from their initial provocation to claiming they were just joking around.

Moreover, according to him, Angela and Jenny had killed their companions.

It seemed that apart from their childish mischief, everything else was Angela and the adults’ fault.

After a commotion,

“Those two women?!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The restroom door began to shake violently.

“Come out! Get out here!”

“She’s still a child! How could you hurt her? Wuuu…”

“Bastards, I’m going to kill you all!”

“Wait, wait, let’s call the police and let them handle this.”

“Shut up! Those women killed people from our town, they must die. I don’t trust the cops—do you?”

“…”

Angela and Jenny trembled violently, gripping their razors tighter.

Bang!

The restroom door was violently broken open.

“We didn’t kill anyone—it’s all lies. They took our people away, they…” Angela tried to explain.

But then—

“Why would you hurt a child? She’s still a child!” a woman immediately tried to rush forward but was held back, her expression frantic.

“Lies from outsiders—we even tried to help you.”

“My Bright would never lie! And you’d even harm a child? Damn you!”

“Fill the bathtub.”

The man leading them, Bright’s father, glared ferociously. The dozen or so townsfolk watched coldly, some even stepping forward to help restrain the two women.

Angela and Jenny shook their heads desperately, brandishing the razor blades.

“No, no, no…”

Woof! Woof! Woof!

Suddenly, a furious barking erupted.

A golden figure streaked out like lightning, launching itself into the fray with savage bites and reckless charges.

Its jaw strength was terrifying, and its movements were astonishingly agile—more than a dozen people couldn’t catch it, instead being thrown into chaos inside the house.

Another fierce dog of Bright’s tried to join the fight, but the golden dog swiftly pinned it down with a paw on its neck.

Then, with sharp teeth, it tore through the throat. After shaking its head violently, blood sprayed, and the neck was almost severed, barely connecting the head and body.

The golden dog stood atop the corpse, bloodied, staring at the crowd like a terrifying beast.

The women screamed, the men grabbed nearby objects to fight back.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s just a dog, everyone—”

Bang!

A gunshot cut him off.

Louis stood at the door, smiling, the gun in his hand still shaking, the muzzle wavering as if unsure whom to aim at.

“Child, put down the gun. You might not understand the situation. We’re dealing with two vicious women, they…”

“Louis?!”

Angela, crouched in the bathroom, exclaimed with relief.

The man was stunned.

Louis waved his hand, noticing Angela was dirty and scratched but alive—at least he had arrived in time.

But what about Olivier?

Could it be…

Louis’s eyes darkened.