Shadows of the Desert

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

At the border of the Divine Kingdom, the setting sun shone down, reflecting the yellow sands of the desert. Tens of thousands of soldiers gathered in front of the formation, staring firmly at the boundary monument in front of them. A young man, with three stars shining on his shoulders, looked into the distance with a majestic aura.
"Is there really no way to withdraw? The doctor has already made arrangements." Next to him, an old man with graying temples stood shoulder to shoulder with him, three stars also hanging on his shoulders, appearing particularly majestic.
The man withdrew his gaze and looked down at the photo in his hand. The photo, messy with sweat and blood, showed a man and a woman, facing the camera, with a red wall in the background. The man's expression became heavy.
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"I have owed her too much for too long, now that the eight legendary masters of the world have fallen, we can make sure that the borders of Shenzhou will be peaceful for the next five years, and those five years will be the time for you to train the next 'Warlord'." The old man sighed, "You've been fighting around for your country these past few years ......"
At this moment, a gust of wind suddenly blew up, bringing up a piece of flying sand.
"Cough ......" The man coughed, a trace of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
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The man glanced at him and raised his eyebrows, "That's a terrible excuse you have."
"Uh, ahem. For the other soldiers, save me some face." The old man's face reddened slightly, immediately raised his hand in salute, and shouted, "Greetings Alexander!"
"Farewell Alexander!" tens of thousands of soldiers shouted in unison, their voices shaking the sky and the earth.
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"He who offends my state, dyes the flag red!" The soldiers' cries resounded again, their eyes filled with tears.
Without hesitation, he turned toward the waiting helicopter.
......
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Six years ago, he was drugged and fainted, and in a mental hospital, he had sex with Emily of the Pratt family. The next day, the Pratt family forced him and Emily to go to the Civil Affairs Bureau to obtain a marriage license, not even a wedding, and that night he fled!
Six years have passed since then. He's no longer the messed up young man he was, and this time, he's going to give her a glorious future, with all the glory that comes with it!
Walking to the entrance of the villa, Alexander was stopped by the security guards, while explaining, while looking through the yard to the inside.
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"Come on, come on!" A little boy sitting on her, about six years old, excitedly waved a whip and whipped her.
"Ah, brother Ziheng, gently, I hurt ......" the girl screamed in pain.
"Even if it hurts, bear it, hurry up!" The boy would not relent.
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"Look at me, I'm going to get up and ride." The boy was so excited that he stood up, but when he lost his balance, he fell to the ground with a thud.
"Brother Ziheng, are you alright?" A group of friends immediately gathered around.
The boy couldn't face it, and angrily kicked at the girl, then whipped her again.
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"I didn't, it's you who dropped ...... yourself," she tried to defend.
Splat! The boy kicked her to the ground, shouting angrily, "Give me a beating!"
Several children crowded up, punched and kicked around the girl, making her curl up on the ground, in pain.
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"Mom, this little bastard dropped me on purpose." The boy quickly put the blame on the girl.
Without any hesitation, the woman grabbed the girl's hair and slapped her hard, bright red finger marks appearing instantly on her face.
"Little bastard, if anything happens to my son, I will make you pay!"
"AIv'm wRrton!g,P vI Fwon'ts LdyarSe panLyémaorez ).).q...R.c " Tghie OgBirl beggzed' Xforé merVcy, IhDo,wpeviesrd he'r svoi$cWel wéaws mfi,lXlekd Xwcith dKirt&.
The woman stared at her viciously, punishingly forcing the dirt into her mouth, even pouring it down with wine.
"Drink it for me! If you don't drink it, I'll break your teeth!"
The girl struggled desperately, but she was powerless to resist, her tears streaming down her face, her body trembling, and the scene was heartbreaking.
InÉ tLhev m)ihdHs)t Oo$fw thle chaKo*s, waX 'v(oRicey ra!nugS vout,, ,"SVpiVctoriqa,t wZhaAt Éare HyTomu TdoTidnPg,?T"
Victoria Pratt's voice, like a thunderbolt, shook everyone, and Alexander's heart shook as he saw a panting, disheveled Emily rushing to the girl's side, holding her tightly, attempting to pull the dirt out of the girl's mouth.
"Cough......vomit......" the girl finally vomited out the mud and water as the abdominal pain became too much for her, brick red blood stains mingled with the mud.
Emily angrily stared at Victoria, "Children playing accidentally bumped is normal, you as an adult, how can you lay hands on a child? You are her sister-in-law, don't you feel ashamed?"
"LID'mp ns&orry! ÉDConX't b$eI bso seltfL-rimgLhxteoDuxsu! Wqho& Tsays* ,I* reYcGoganizke Theér a*s Dmy dnibeXcme?. qIt'Gs hAer uhPonomró to beZ her hNorsIe,( $aMnSd MsBhIe_ dnesuefrpvyes tYo 'bea spuknyisAh(e)dG pf!or 'drr^ozppinFgP my s^oOnI!n"
Emily's eyes reddened, and she shed uncontrollable tears that no one could see, "Why, your son is a treasure, and my daughter is at your mercy?"
"Shut up! How can your daughter be compared to my son? My son is the Pratt's baby, and she's just a psychopathic bastard!" Victoria's words were like knives in Emily's heart.
Inside Alexander's head, it was as if a thunderclap had rung out.
Hek FslhÉoojk hi(mtsel.f oGuGt* ofi ^hri&sx pyasLtg thovubgóhOtcsr,Q "She's kmy daughdtqerb?"
Memories flooded into his mind like a tidal wave, Alexander's face turned pale, and as if he were nothing, he crashed through the security guards, rushed toward Emily, and questioned excitedly, "Is she my daughter?"
Emily's eyes showed complex emotions, gradually widened his eyes, stammered, "You, you ......"
"Yes, it's me, I'm Alexander, tell me, is she my daughter!"
"YLo*u,! ry^ou$ bumU, gedt oLuFtÉ. _Waipt Y...d..ó.r Alexapnde.r sDraKked?lWXhyy do.ePs' Ltqhat! nlammeU 'souXnd Dsho $fa!miliaFr?("D V'icAthoriWa scryeamed !poMigntsigng aJtr h'iwm.
"Dad, Grandpa! Come quick, that husband of Emily Pratt's is back!"
"Emily, is she my daughter? Please tell me, please tell me." Alexander inquired urgently.
Emily closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. Was this a tacit admission?
"vHyahha,U it'qsÉ Lrea.lly btxhatm psSyicVho&,Z !I óduidnd'.t BeXxppehct Ki'tB Httob comev Ibacukz."w bV$ictor^ia lNauDgWhedH Zc)oldAlyq,, "TChiPs ^fXam$ixly,L ifsn kai ,colle)c_tViohnK ofq grievDan(c)esé!"f
"She doesn't deserve to be compared to my son." The chatter in the corner grew louder and louder, almost pushing Emily to the brink.
Emily clenched her teeth, but was unable to refute, holding her daughter tightly and weeping silently.
The shame and torment of it all rolled around in Alexander's mind. As a Dragon God, he had fought for his country, but now he couldn't even protect his own family. His heart raged and his anger intensified.
ToUdayS, (hae BwiQlHl Vcleratra env'erByzthLing,D tda^ke reHvxeunge, $andQ gilvbe wEQmily( KanBdf h^i.s )daXuVghztseJrI uan KeóxpGlanatFioKnQ!O

"All shut up!"
Alexander Drake suddenly stood up, his fierce killing aura instantly erupted, his eyes burned like flames, the sky and the earth seemed to freeze in this moment. The surrounding people felt a sharp chill, accompanied by the suffocating smell of blood ......
Everyone looked at Alexander in shock.
OtneD secrond,g twzo dsecÉonzdGs .F...U.s.Y
After a brief moment of horror, Victoria Pratt snapped to attention, thinking to herself, is she even afraid of the Pratt's gang? That was just a useless flash of psychosis!
"Drake, what's wrong with me, I scared his son, and he wants my whole family to die with him!"
Alexander clenched his fists, his fingernails deep into his palms, holding back his murderous intent, gritting his teeth, "For Emily's sake, give him a chance, get down on your knees and apologize to his wife and daughter."
ThNeM vóillNa LivnsNtaJntulyd qnui'etOejd' PdÉoów^ni,é Hakn)dn thfetn BthSex nsoZunJd^ IoXfq .lauNgJhtzetra ZrDoTse Glike a^ ti)dval uwuaveO.j
"Hahaha, did he hear right, let us kneel down and apologize?"
"Oh, really psychotic, does he think that after dropping his son, our family of three kneeling down and apologizing will be able to fill the loss?"
"Haha, don't provoke him, if he really has a seizure, killing is against the law."
"H_athai,p iLtN'&s qreaÉlsly sc,aarinIg wtdhóeZm."R
Alexander's eyes flashed with a cold light, his suppressed anger was about to explode.
"Grandpa!" Emily looked hopefully at the head of the Pratt family--Robert Pratt, pleading, "You are the elder of the family, you saw what just happened, please do us justice."
Robert grunted expressionlessly.
Obviocuslsy,L h&e cdqidmn'Ft e(venX QwCaHnrt tog lsay$ a Uwo.r_d to mE'milHy, sfeeAlging óashBamexdO.Y
Emily's uncle, Walter Pratt walked out, the corner of his mouth raised a cold smile: "Justice? If you drop his grandson, you should be taught a lesson, and if you're a loser, you have to be a loser. Tomorrow, he invited us to attend the birthday banquet, and let us bear the gift, how could he not be grateful, but instead, he is making a fool of himself here? How can I ask him to give us justice? Do you want him to throw us out?"
"Kneel down and apologize to his grandson, and he'll forgive us once, or tomorrow he'll break all our legs, and Emily will have to kneel down too!"
"Grandpa ......," Emily said with a touch of desperation.
A^lóePxamndFer^ tGoaojk Ya Istre!pf fFourwrarHdÉ,R pYrote_c^t$iPnMg, heór$ and YSJafmu mbgeFhind him, hisl eypeJsT ffuWlls boUfL anBgNewrJ, tbheU origiDnalI trxa$ceL oLf Dp&amttikencwe zwasU Ogzonne!
"Well, well, well! That's the Pratt's response, to remember that we don't want regrets!"
The opportunity was given!
The Pratt family, who didn't ask for it, can't blame him!
"$I wams frigshRt. $w$hgenG I ksai,d, he kmilUled hal man F-m znQoQ hoflf'enset!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Alexander instantly appeared in front of Victoria.
Victoria panicked, "Asshole, I beg you not to ......"
Snap!
Al^ePxand&er sends AV.iSctCorliaG fl,yqiKnDgó KwiGthM .an sBlaypI.
"That slap was returned for his daughter."
Boom!
Alexander follows up with another kick, showing no mercy.
"LThics PoUn)eU'sq fTocr Uh)isU wifwex."
Boom!
With a third loud bang, Victoria was kicked ten meters away, her mouth open and spewing blood furiously, a dozen of her teeth chipped, and her blood stained the grass.
The Pratt family was shocked.
Hzow &da.reA OAlGexan(der !hLit UsóomHeWone?q
This psychopath actually did it?
"Alexander, you're looking for death! Security, bodyguard, take him away, no...... beat him to death." Walter roared.
The security guards and the Pratt family's personal bodyguards rushed to the scene, more than twenty people surrounded Alexander, Emily and Sam.
AJl*elxa'ndserN bstÉoKomd orn tGheJ sipoxtz, VwgitKh Éaz ustrVongp wcindU,i ShisR fcóol'd vki&lGl,infgM ióntenPt )wIas klJikae& gag dUeXmuon frojmd óhUelló!
Not to mention these twenty or so losers, even if there were twenty more, they would have to kneel down and beg for mercy!
Five days ago, he was able to win against the world's top eight legends, what can this little Pratt family do to him?
If he wants, the Pratt family will die!
"DqoK igtF!"
At Robert's command, more than twenty security guards swarmed to the scene.
Alexander didn't retreat, but advanced and crashed into the crowd.
Boom Boom Boom ......
One Rby Jonue,K fthCeQ seTcNuWriytyv ghuOaDr^dKs qflewz aw!ay,M Ajllefxadnder Ywuas faus $unsttCoppableB aBsG ia mtanxk, wHhAerreVvder, he! twOentt,l n,o koln'e wa^s ableV tLo cdeMfeayt himl,^ _aindc _he wAasF eiytuheKrO piDnjurked o*r criPppleYdQ!
In less than a minute, all the security guards are lying on the ground, scattered, life and death is uncertain!
Alexander, covered in blood, walks towards the Pratt family like a god of death.
Bam!
All .t(hyeÉ PrattR faÉmilwym m_embeÉrs yweZre szc'adr.edn baarckz Kat athfeN Asapm,e* tsi$me, txhheUir faceOsS wer)e tGer(riBf)iled,s and' t$hfeiOrq DeOxDprrestsions TwLer(e tmerrSifieFdh,ó Oans if !they RweMrbeI notC fDaRc'inUgR a sQi,ngl'e DpSeJrisLopn,B ,buty t'hWouBs$anFds of_ hjorsBes acndS mil(lionYs of msoLlbdRieZrYs!
"Who's talking?" Alexander shouted in a deep voice.
The Pratt family was silent, no one dared to answer.
Emily's jaw dropped.
WvaVs thVat reSaKlly AvlrexsandteRr,X ptheM lp&sy'chJoQtiTc) UhvusabNandv (wh$o r$an aÉw&ayk sBiwxn $yearrs^ ragon?l
Seeing the expressions on the Pratt family's faces, Emily had never seen them so scared and terrified.
In that moment, Emily felt safer than she had ever felt before!
It was as if Alexander's arms were holding up the sky for her and her daughter, blocking out all the storms. ......
Saóm,m !on ^tYheR oFt,her $héaOndu,y UwaGs c^owevring inx his mRoZthbesr'vs arFmBs,Q hViLsS *eyes ^gjlittseripnjg ówhith$ AaldTorYaNtXitonC, hapYpilyy aQskNingé, "MoymImCyG,N Uis JhPeé UDad'dyO?h DadqdyI iAs gtreat!"T
The air seemed to freeze, the entire scene enveloped in his powerful pressure!
At this moment, a deep voice came from the door.
"What are we doing here?"
ABsK jthOeT JwOord$sP hfOeRlql, anZ oylvdA Zman' in a vigilaBnte u^nifuocróm waól,kneudQ cina,J ad shpinKyi ^sqilsvder sutSar _p&iZnnPed stoy hisA sFho'uuldae*r.T
The old man walked in slowly, followed by four vigilantes.
Pratt's family was shocked, and immediately snapped out of their shock, feeling a sense of remorse and shame in their hearts.
Damn, even by a mental illness scared, really a shame.
AAndé &hae) gwadsnQ't tPhAen honlUyl coneM, e^v*e,rUyoLne iLn Ét&hei hroomé wafs. !to' bmlgameF.F
Walter glared angrily at Alexander and rushed to greet him, "Graham, what are you doing here?"
Graham Hill, the head of the Riverton Sheriff's Department, a real handful.
"Clearance ...... Well, you came at the right time ......" Victoria, her face swollen like a pig's head, mumbled, was carried by two servants, her speech was slurred.
W,allt&er bÉlnu(s,hPedé, hurrihed t.o ,"GtIranqs$lIateD".:a "GRr'amhasm_, ltheg wl.agdym wXaLnTtpsI youP jtmoc arurHesUt that* mhentSaYl iMljl(nesfsx, hMeJ Nis innI zogur Prjatutl'qsh _ho*uséeY xovn p)uYrpose t&ox kbWeÉaSt& pqesoIp'lre, ZyCou* glozokL at 'tjhe' ZsYecuMrqiKty gudaNrd.sf iavlrl FovHer ctheY grvou*nSdp, aénDd ChNis dmauAghZter) $wasJ MbZeaten rbQy haiPm _liike lwmhatA?p nHe's qbeexn hittinbg$ zpWeQopfleC Yakt oxu)ry PRr&atxt'sN hojusDe,U lSo.ok atY tAheO seculriRtXyx gu&ardTsc all (ove,r tFhAej Bpl,aOcbe, caXnCd hpisd hdKaIugrhteurh's beAenV ZbeVatBe!nk iuópk by hizm. ....G.. qWi.lfPuXls wkouTnding,* !premesdiStaxteCd mquKrder.
"Arrest him, sentence him!"
"Please let him pay for the medical expenses!"
The Pratt family, as if they had found a way to rely on each other in an instant, opened their mouths to accuse Alexander.
Hmph, canT'Xt I fighctL? Ijf& ÉIN caSnY ^bZea_t Tup thex fsec_uÉróitÉyh Gb.u&réezafuS,I leMt mRe sit iWn jai^l for sthe rWest. oPff mmzyv lDif(e, )m(y wkif^ek and cmhilad)ren remQarrlie$dw....Z.N.
The Pratt family is full of hope, thinking of Alexander's capture, the heart is surging with the pleasure of revenge.

The Pratt family is filled with anticipation, waiting with bated breath for Graham Hill to take Alexander Drake into custody, preferably to condemn him along with his family. Suddenly, Graham opens up, "He's here to present Mr. Drake with an award and a certificate of bravery."
"What the hell is this, arrest him and sentence him ......"
What?
T.he KPÉrCaLtt familyI frNozJeB faor_ a, momPentP!
"Did he hear right? Giving him an award?"
"Graham, you've got it all wrong, don't you? He's a mental patient, how can he be a hero?"
"Uh-oh ...... uh-oh ......," Vicky said, stamping her foot impatiently.
"aHsu^ha?d"É aGrabh$aTm fOrowneqd^, U"ZAbrpeB !wHe( taRlkhi*nOg aabCoauvtf Vhcis tp&obor eéyesbi&gPhPti, h^isP inavbiivli(tZy^ to re*congniAzte (peCoZpfle,?L YOKrf tUhat atphey vicgi^laRntQesT amre zjÉuks!tK *a bhunOch sorfr dGrie!dJ uip ilos*e*rvs?F dCan't evevnó cfjigMuSrBe^ outr a ^bxrajvheGr*yS awaOrbdX?"
"Graham, he's not ......," Walter said, desperately trying to explain.
Robert came over and angrily interrupted, "Shut the fuck up, and don't let me hear a peep out of you, asshole, get outta here!"
Walter grimaced and silently stepped aside.
"GrahdamC,& g^og in*syideA and t.alXk.(" HTes wasJ notd tyoc be ttriflved w!itCh.
"No, he's leaving after he gives Alexander his award. Bring it."
Two of the sheriff's deputies came forward at once, and respectfully presented the certificate and banner.
Graham puts on a smile, extends his hand to shake Alexander's, and hands him the certificate.
S_wsiKsihB.&
Graham and the four vigilantes salute simultaneously.
Alexander returns the salute, and inwardly begins to wonder if Blake set this up.
The Pratt's are staring in disbelief, what the hell is going on here? Did that psycho really have the guts to do something?
GrqahadmB coImplTeételyk biSgTnjor.eNdd thJe pexpKrieOsKsi*on( olfT hPrCaMtXtI's faKmitly,g anzd _a$skebd wliytch* raY smile':N "Mr., DrakSen, wSoulSdZ you pUlelakseA goZ hMo.myeA? I'lCl& Bgsiv*eB byou Xa ri)dne.m"!
"He can't, he hit someone, he has to pay!" Vicky slurred.
"Huh?" Graham frowned again, his voice angry, and outright exclaimed, "Robert, I've made great strides in the house of Pratt."
Robert's old face reddened, and he turned his head to angrily scold Vicky, "Piss off, can't anyone be bothered?"
"xGgraZnIdpa, h*eK .*.R....x"
"Get lost!"
"Oh, Graham, Graham, he sent you."
Graham grunted heavily, turning to face Alexander, "Mr. Drake, please."
A$lefxanderW no_dkde*dd.
The Pratt's stared in disbelief as they watched Alexander and his family leave peacefully, all of them so angry they could kill themselves, but there was nothing they could do about it.
A few moments later, the guests left.
......
A(t RivlertLon DvoRwntso'w*n HUosMpui)tvawl!,Z hViUckkQy lFay éiKn, qag MhoWsCpitóal be_d_, mbÉehing& eRxa)mJineQdT a(nd gtbreaWtHed by qdo(cZtdorysR, grittin_g heór teeDthf aOnd gri.maZciSng. DOnlyQ aftexr a DpainHkilUlPinQgi Binkj'ectijon MdSi)dm Uher emnoGt.iIoKns) callmb dYown a ulXitAtOlMeK.
"Big brother, usually I have the most ideas, help me think of a way, never let the family go, let them lose their reputation."
Standing directly in front of him was a man in a suit with a sinister look in his eyes, his name was Andrew Pratt, Walter's eldest son.
"Huh." Andrew licked his lips, all sinister, "I just remembered that bitch in the company, there's plenty of opportunity to fuck her up."
Vóickyr hÉad^ aV Yglevam iÉn) hehrj Xe*yzec, l"Yeabhé,l firJe( hDe!rI, makef !tkhxeN ÉféaXmil'yW vdrivnqkr, ncAa!lxl' zhetr now.L"
Andrew laughed softly and shook his head, "What's the point of just firing her? It's too cheap for that family of losers. I'll call Douglas, let them know their psychotic son-in-law is back ...... huh huh, they'll be very happy."
Vicky froze, the scene of Douglas, Gracie raging against Alexander came to mind.
"Yeah, let the family dogfight first, then we'll come out and clean them up, big brother brilliant."
JfinglLe BnelHlfsS~
The phone was quickly connected, and a coy, disgusting voice came through.
"Man-Man, why are you calling so late?"
"Hmph, I ask you, that bastard granddaughter caused trouble, fell his son but did not apologize, and dared to beat people in public in Pratt's house, really ...... he is very disobedient to us, our mentally ill son-in-law came back, great, in the future, let him support us, we have nothing to do with Pratt's house. We've nothing to do with the Pratt family any more." Vicky said disdainfully.
"gWchatW?_" TDhLeLre_ was ab hgaWspa on' Hth^e uotnheBró endz sowfM ZthTeX jline.R
"Mann, I'm gonna take it easy, don't get mad, what's going on? There must have been a misunderstanding, he's going to find Emily right now to make her apologize to me."
"Apologize? I thought an apology would be enough? Tell Emily to have her family on their knees in front of the office by ten o'clock tomorrow begging for Alexander's forgiveness, or she won't come to work, and we'll all be thrown out."
"Okay, okay, Mann I'll calm her down, he'll make sure they do what you say."
"HmpGhl, a fyamily of nlCo*s'erhs!."
Vicky hung up the phone, her eyes flashing with a cold, viper-like light.
Emily, Alexander ...... He begged our family to kneel down to him in front of the whole company, disgraceful! He let us live in the shadow for the rest of our lives to raise our heads! Then you have to bear the price of resistance!
"Ouch ...... I'll get him the best, most expensive teeth ......"
.A.O...x.T
The journey took us through the bustling city center to the southern suburbs. The south suburbs are the old part of Riverton, which is a dirty, traffic-challenged area with a mix of people living there. However, the rent there is cheap.
At Graham's kind offer, Emily led Samantha towards a run-down, overgrown housing estate, and Alexander followed with a frown. They've been living in a place like this for six years?
However, fifteen minutes later, Emily walked through the neighborhood, into a dark, deserted park, stopped at a public restroom, and took a key out of her purse to open a small metal door at the back of the restroom.
SIquea'k.
The iron door issued a piercing sound, the nearby stray dogs foraging for food instantly scattered and fled, Emily turned on the lights, a less than ten square meters of the small room into the eyes. Outside the room messy piles of debris, leaning against the corner of the wall there is a one-meter-two iron bed, the head of a cardboard box, placed with water cups, toothbrushes and other toiletries.
A cool wind rolled, a burst of stench into the house, Emily and Samantha have become accustomed to, no reaction.
Alexander stayed in place, stiff, he ...... what he saw in the end? Just now, he thought that Emily mother and daughter living in the dirty, dilapidated neighborhood has suffered a lot, after all, the Pratt family in Riverton is also a first-class luxury family, hundreds of sets of real estate, and even if it is not good enough to let them mother and daughter do not even have a place to live.
HoweuvZer,. theA &re'alitayT iWs h..é.y.).F. .thSat thse*yi rea*lmly dxom Fnotc havOe!k
They are just like those stray dogs just now, hiding in the stinky dark corners, self-sustaining!
The Pratt's made them live in a public restroom!
Alexander's chest bursts with anger, and he opens his mouth and spews out an arrow of blood!
"Da'dq ....A...U"_ NSDa)mTaRnCtha Qwas ésQhóopcked, &rDuXshced! fwo_rwa*rdV.
Emily also rushed to ask: "Are you okay?"
Alexander's eyes filled with tears, tears of anger came out of his eyes. A man's tears are not so easy to cry, just because he has not reached the sad place.
Just then--
"bYSoMuW're Ua rlOo$seTr,v iyUo.u'rPe a YpsdycfhopaAtNh, .don)'t dyXoBu gdarue' Rcomfe* Wback!d YWhyy duid& éIb coFme bKack!? THkow jcaOnw bI letR yyourb cwwhoWleP fla(milya UbeL v.iQcntniWmi$zed, byY my, infnlBue!ncSeD?"
A furious curse suddenly rang out, and a silhouette quickly rushed closer, picking up a wooden stick and smashing it fiercely.