Chapter 655: Suppress 1
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Bam!!!
In a wide and spacious cathedral, a black figure was instantly smashed into the wall, like a butterfly stuck in a spider's web, his arms wide open, and he was held there by the countless green strands of web silk shining on the wall behind him, completely immobile.
He opened his mouth wide and roared wildly, but he emitted no sound whatsoever. This figure was completely pitch black, as though his whole body was made of black shadows, and he had no face at all, only a tiny bit of white light that could be seen inside his mouth when he opened it wide.
"What kind of a dream is this?" Garen stood in the center of the cathedral, confused. He felt as though there were gazes looking at him from all directions, but when he looked that way, he could not see anyone except himself, there was only the black figure stuck on the wall.
This was his first time having such a dream, he had not seen any of the things around him, and he could be a hundred percent certain of that because none of the patterns on the cathedral walls gave him any sort of strange feeling.
"Black Sethe?" He called out softly, but there was no response at all from inside his mind.
He looked up, glancing at the black figure struggling on the wall, that person was roaring wildly and madly, trying to break free from the webs. But that strange Green Death kept tightening its hold on him.
Garen tried his best to remain focused, and not let himself be distracted by everything happening around him, otherwise, the dream would devolve into a mess again.
He paid attention to his surroundings conservatively. The cathedral was blurred and bleary, he could obviously see the patterns around him, but when he tried to look closer, it was all a blur.
There were tall golden human statues standing on either side of him, each of them clasping a sword that was pointed at the ground tightly with both hands, each of them more than ten meters tall.
Garen lifted his legs and walked slowly inside the cathedral, he walked until he was underneath that stuck human figure, and he reached out his hand to touch that huge green silk web, but unfortunately there seemed to be a transparent piece of glass between him and the web, so all he could feel was a hard and smooth surface obstructing him.
Wooo…
All of a sudden there was a minute sound by his ear, and Garen's vision blurred slightly, his eyes losing focus.
"Mmgh…" He opened his eyes, and slowly straightened up from the reclining chair.
That dream just now was so realistic and strange, that he could remember it clearly even after waking up.
He was lying on a sofa in the second-floor living area, the alarm on his phone was ringing rhythmically. That was the alarm clock he had set beforehand.
Yanking his pajamas, Garen got off the sofa and stood up, it was completely quiet in the little living room, the maids had all gone to sleep. It was night time, the curtains beside the large open glass windows billowed in the wind, the night breeze puffing in and out of the balcony outside.
Garen walked to the balcony and looked outward.
Some of the little twinkling lights in the distance were fixed, others moved, and only a couple of the shops on the opposite street were still open, the rest were all closed. Occasionally there would be a few motorcycles revving past, breaking the silence of the night.
He picked up his phone from the coffee table, there were messages from Raffaele, from his parents, and even one from Jason, asking him when he was going back for a visit.
There was one more message, this one from Baldy.
After that guy went blind in one eye, he had always been angry at Levi's daughter, yearning for revenge, but under Garen's intimidation, he never made any real moves. His personality, however, became more and more violent.
Garen tapped the message from Baldy.
'Got some news about the Mask, there's a mask like that in a European old-money family's collection, showed up at a private auction once. We're communicating with the people now, hoping we can buy it, but they seem pretty firm that they're not planning to sell the mask. Looking for another way now.'
The message was sent last night at 11 pm. Garen glanced at the time now, it was 3.15am.
It should be 8 or 9 in the morning where Baldy was.
Garen sent a message directly.
'You can reveal a bit of your identity, if they're willing to sell it, then they can be considered a friend of the Nighthawks to some extent.'
After waiting for some time, there was a prompt response from the other side.
'Boss, this might be real hard, we Nighthawks don't have much of a market in Europe, the main places have all been taken up by the mercenary groups here, if we were in Africa that's fine, but here… Though we seem to have a bit of a breakthrough now.'
'Let them state whatever conditions they need, as long as it's not over the top, just agree to it, but remember the bottom line.' Garen replied.
'Understood.'
Garen put down the phone, by now he was already beginning to sense something different about the Black Copper Mask. After he put on the mask, he could still feel wisps of potential values streaming out of the mask, getting absorbed into his body.
Before this Garen clearly remembered that he had absorbed all of the potential value, but now there were new wisps of potential power.
This greatly increased his curiosity in the Mask.
*****************
"I promised you, Barcetina. I would not interfere with your private life before you turn twenty." In a luxurious study, a white-haired old man was talking to a young woman in a deep voice.
"You are nineteen now, you'll be twenty soon, and you'll have your twentieth birthday. I, your mother, and your grandmother, all hope that you can take the family business upon your shoulders." The old man paused, "You like collecting, we let you, you like fighting, we support you, and you also like movies, all of that is fine. But. You must be very aware that your future is not like that of your friends. Our business, the business your ancestors fought for, all of it is your hands to control, to protect so that it does not all go to waste. This is your responsibility as a member of this family. This is also the price you have to pay for all that you enjoy."
The young girl wore a white T-shirt and ripped jeans, looking just a normal delinquent girl. Her features were broad and rough, her face even looked like that of a boy, there was no hint of beauty in it anywhere, she was one of those types that people would be hard-pressed to find a way to praise.
Her skin had large pores, was neither fair nor dark, and was instead a dirty yellow. Her short hair was dry like dead grass, she had small eyes, a large nose, and a large mouth, as a girl in the spring of her youth, she had indeed inherited all her parents' flaws and none of their strengths.
Just then she was listening to her grandfather's lecture, but her heart was calm.
"I'm not twenty yet, right? I know what to do after my birthday." Barcetine replied calmly.
"We're worried you don't understand." Her grandfather retorted. "You need to know what's important. In this world, power is the strongest thing, the sharpest weapon. The second is money, everything else that you've been chasing until now is meaningless."
"It's not meaningless." Barcetina argued, "Once you reach the top of any field, you are powerful and dazzling."
"So what? Our connections can bring you world-class movie stars, world-class fighting trainers, the best antiques. They are the cream of their fields, but they can only earn a few dozen millions, a hundred million at most, and they're still controlled by masterminds like us, they fade, cool down, and are forced out of their field, it's far too easy to shut them up." The old man replied carelessly.
"The people won't be fooled that easily." Barcetina frowned.
"You're wrong." The old man shook his head, "The people can't see the truth of the moment, that's why they're the easiest to fool. This is the digital age, anything real can become fake, and anything fake can become real."
"Forget it, I don't want to argue with you, I understand what you mean. I'll be prepared." Barcetina stood up, patted down her jeans, turned around, and left the room.
Coming out from her grandfather's place, she drove her car down a shaded little path slowly, for some reason, there was deep resentment in Barcetina's heart.
Faced with her large family, her own power seemed so small, and so weak. The social circles that she had worked so hard to build were no more than a joke in her family's eyes, they could easily destroy all the connections she had, and isolate her completely.
But she did not succumb, she loved collecting and fighting, and she would use a ton of money and energy on those two every year.
Taking out her phone, she called her good friend.
'Hey, is that Cam? How are things going with the newest exhibition?'
'What? Something happened at home, so you probably can't make it?'
'Fine, fine, then how about we meet in the afternoon, and walk around a bit? Just treat it as a walk to de-stress, you have something urgent? Okay…'
Hanging up, Barcetina called another number.
'Kris, what are you doing? What! Are you moving house? When? I'll pick you up right now!'
'No need? Alright, alright…'
Another friend had suddenly become cold.
Barcetina could already feel a huge net woven by her family slowly close in on her, and she was powerless to resist.
Clenching her teeth, she called yet another number, but this one did not even go through, nobody picked up.
Friends, fellow enthusiasts, members of a club, the Collector Association's number, either they did not pick up, or they had all sorts of bad news. Most of the members of the Collector Association she started even quit all at once, and the Association was on the brink of collapse
Bam!
"Bullshit!"
Barcetina smashed her fist into the steering wheel, and the car stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of emergency brakes behind her.
Her circle was so frail, none of them could withstand the pressure from her family, that was the pressure coming from all forms of society, heavy and suffocating.
Without stopping, she tried all the different phone numbers, but the calls were either met with despairing silence, or wayward rejections.
Slowly, she extended her reach to anyone she had ever met or called. She called all the numbers, one by one, but the results were still exasperating and hopeless, the web of connections that she thought was wide and complicated only looked vast, but it was still controlled by her family's power, without any exceptions.
Her emotions grew more and more despairing.
In the end, with her last ray of hope, she called a number.
It was the number of a stranger she had met in a friendly fighting competition in America. She was trying to find a place where a family could not reach.