Chapter 63 Prank, News

In America, ordering milk for students still in school is a common occurrence. However, because Carrie's was a single-parent household, things were naturally quite tight. The milk they ordered came in a mixed package, delivered alongside the morning paper, so it only arrived on Saturdays and Sundays. As it happened, today was Saturday.

Margaret, who was currently working as a waitress outside, looked at the customer in front of her—the dress, the low-cut neckline, the stockings... Her expression grew extremely rigid, and her inner self was roaring in fury.

This is impurity! This is depravity! She will be tempted by demons after death!

Yet, in order to keep her job, she forced herself to endure, maintaining a smile on her face while her fingernails pierced the skin of her thigh, a thin trickle of blood running down her leg. After the customer left, her expression instantly collapsed, turning into a grimace of intense rage. The nearby co-worker glanced at her with curled lips, completely unfazed by the sight.

Finally, work ended. The surrounding co-workers left in groups, leaving Margaret to walk home all alone. She didn't care about being left out; she was only wondering how long she would have to pray once she got home. But no matter how long she prayed, she could never let her family be dragged into this. She was impure, and praying for herself was a desecration of God. She had already made a mistake once; she could not afford another.

Margaret walked all the way with her head bowed. Just as she reached her front door, the sharp ring of a bicycle bell suddenly broke her train of thought.

A milkman interrupted her reverie. "Here's your milk and the newspaper. Oh, right, someone stopped me just now and asked me to give this to you, said they'd cover the cost."

With that, he pedaled away swiftly on his bicycle.

Dazed, Margaret looked at the items in her hands, set the milk and newspaper down, and directly tore open the package.

Bang!

A bizarre-looking doll suddenly sprang out from inside, leaping straight at her face.

"Aaaaaah!"

A scream. A step back. A fall.

A basin of water happened to be right beside her. On the wooden picket fence next to her dress, a bent nail had somehow appeared out of nowhere.

Splash! Rip!

Margaret was soaked from head to toe, and as she stumbled backward, her dress was torn open with a large gash, exposing her undergarments beneath. Everything seemed entirely too coincidental.

Worse still, it happened to be the evening rush hour, and several pedestrians on the street witnessed the scene. If her clothes had been transparent and a little skimpier, it could almost be called a wet-clothes temptation!

This caused quite a few people to stop in their tracks, some subconsciously stepping forward to help, only to extend a hand.

Smack!

Margaret slapped the hand away, glaring fiercely at everyone. "Get away! Don't touch me!"

Then, she rapidly cowered and hid her body behind the wooden fence.

The kind-hearted bystanders exchanged awkward glances and walked away, cursing their bad luck.

At that moment, hearing the commotion, Carrie hurried out from inside. "Mom?!"

"Carrie!"

Margaret embraced Carrie fragility, unable to hold back as she burst into tears.

Carrie froze completely at that exact moment.

Mom... is hugging me?

From childhood to the present, except on extremely rare occasions, her mother had never hugged her this tightly. Although her mother was her mother and sometimes cared for her, she had never been this affectionate.

A warmth washed over her heart. She stiffly raised her hand to embrace her mother, gently patting her back just like a mother comforting an infant—something she had seen on television. In fact, there had even been a scene of nursing, but she had been scolded harshly by her mother the moment she finished watching it.

However, after patting her arm just twice, Margaret snapped out of it as if waking from a dream. She quickly let go, clutching her skirt and fleeing into the house like a hunted animal.

Carrie was left feeling a sense of profound loss.

Not far away, Emma was smiling slightly as she held a temporarily rented camera. Naturally, all of this was her doing.

Aren't you sickeningly, overly conservative? Then I'm going to make a fool of you. Not only will I humiliate you, but I'm going to capture this moment on film and torment you for the rest of your life! What can you possibly do about it? How dare you do anything?

At the thought of this, the joy of revenge made Emma lick her lips, the upward curve of her mouth widening. In truth, she had even more vicious plans that could easily ruin a person, because ruining someone as extremely conservative as Margaret was far too easy. But considering Louis's warning, and the fact that Carrie was somewhat useful as a tool to monitor Yolenka, she refrained from executing those truly wicked plans.

Still, she had only finished playing the first game; there was a second one waiting.

Glancing sideways at the still-dazed Carrie, her second plan quietly unfolded in her mind. She walked over with a light step, a radiant smile on her face, which, paired with her cool hooded outfit, effortlessly created a sense of sincere contrast.

When Carrie saw her, she was startled with joy at first, but then shrank back, shaking her head at her and pointing toward the house.

Emma shook her head, mimicking Louis's gesture by patting her shoulder. "Don't worry, come with me."

Carrie hesitated. The next second—

"Are we still friends or not?"

As soon as those words left her lips, Carrie's feet immediately began to move.

Leading Carrie toward her own house, Emma paused right before the doorway to glance back at the neighboring house, wearing a meaningful smile.

...

For the past couple of days, for some unknown reason, the frequency of Carrie coming over to the house had increased.

Of course, that wasn't the most important thing. The most important thing was that Emma's attitude was wrong—she was actually being kind? How could that possibly be!

Louis genuinely did not trust this creature. After training her for so many years, he had barely managed to make her follow the rules. As for getting her to express genuine goodwill? That was completely out of the question.

There was definitely something fishy going on!

Moreover, Emma kept pulling Carrie aside to whisper about something in secret and mystery. Every time he walked downstairs and passed by, the two of them would instantly pretend to be composed, acting as if nothing at all had happened. It left Louis feeling rather curious.

However, since it wasn't a catfight between women, he decided to focus his primary energy on his cultivation. He felt that the birth of his internal Qi was not far off. Practicing Qigong required daily, unremitting diligence—it was like rowing upstream against the current!

While Louis was deep in his cultivation, Yolenka downstairs was watching television.

The news on TV was broadcasting two stories. The one was that St. Catherine's Monastery in Romania had been damaged by unidentified fighter jets, suspected to be related to an internal revolution within the Bear Country. Regarding this monastery incident, the Vatican Church announced it would dispatch nuns and priests to investigate.

The second piece of news was that the renowned, Church-certified demonologists, the Warrens, announced the establishment of a New England Society for Psychical Research branch in New York, welcoming anyone troubled by demons and evil spirits to seek their assistance.

Both news reports left Yolenka full of suspicion. Just because something made it onto television didn't mean it had received authoritative validation. Being precocious, Yolenka had understood one thing from a very early age: justice did not exist in this world; otherwise, what was the point of money?

Weren't those supernatural talk shows on TV as well? When it all came down to it, they were just a bunch of gimmicks to make money—it was all just business.

Yet, these two news items reminded her of Louis's flames. That was what caused her to grow suspicious and make the connection.

Did demons and evil spirits really exist in this world? And if they truly existed, did hell exist as well?

Abruptly, she turned her gaze toward Carrie, who was whispering secrets with Emma nearby. "Carrie, tell me in detail about your religion."