Chapter 1048 - 135: Fireside Night Talk
Vilan was silent for a moment, his voice suddenly tinged with awe: "...Prophecy?"
"Perhaps," Victor sighed, "If only Lock were here... The master seems to have entrusted him with some very special memories."
Thinking of that poppet companion wandering somewhere unknown, the two of them fell into silence for a while.
"Let’s go." After a while, Vilan was the first to stand up and said, "It’s about time."
...
The Harrington family was unaware that, within their tightly guarded mansion, an unexpected guest had arrived.
After the little girl Oliver screamed in fright at the snails, the family was awoken, discovering sluggish, creeping forms everywhere.
And those flying cockroaches, actually pouncing straight at people’s faces! The Harrington family, accustomed to luxury and comfort, had never encountered such a frightful situation before.
Oliver’s mother—young and beautiful Sophie—was so scared she nearly fainted. She screamed repeatedly, jumping around, almost falling down the stairs!
"Damn it! There are so many bugs in the courtyard! Did Nick even bother to clean up the garden and the lawn?!"
James Harrington said irritably, while pulling his wife Sophie and picking up his daughter Oliver, striding outside, saying:
"We can’t stay in this house! Until the maids clean it up, we need to find a clean room!"
"It’s useless." His sister Victoria Harrington, dressed neatly and holding a cup of coffee, yawned and said, "We’ve already checked, and all other rooms have those damned bugs too."
James’s gaze instantly sharpened: "You noticed the bugs but didn’t even think about informing us?"
His wife Sophie also showed displeasure on her face.
"Blame me?" Victoria said languidly, "I worked late into the night, while you all went to bed at ten. What right do you have to blame me?"
James retorted, "Is this the same thing?"
"Enough, stop arguing in the middle of the night."
Brother-in-law Jonathan, who also hadn’t slept, said in a low voice: "The power is out, and the backup generator failed after running for less than three minutes. We only just found out that the humidity is too high, and all these things flooded in from the garden."
A voice came from behind Victoria: "After tomorrow, fire those gardeners and hire some new ones. Disinfect and exterminate everywhere again!"
Victoria and Jonathan immediately turned and said, "Father."
The true master of the mansion—Richard Harrington—also stepped out of his room, standing tall and healthy at 78 years old, still vigorous and full of life.
After a pause, James finally spoke in a low voice: "Father, do you have bugs in your room too?"
"Of course." Richard frowned and said, "Where are the bodyguards? Get them to deal with this immediately!"
Jonathan sighed: "I pressed the call bell, but there’s no response from the bodyguards or the butler, probably because the heavy rain messed up the lines."
"And now outside..." Victoria walked to the window, lifting a corner of the heavy curtain, revealing a storm lashing rain against the glass.
"It’s neither safe nor realistic to go out and call for people in this weather. Looks like we’ll have to endure for one night and handle it in the morning."
A brief silence enveloped the room, perhaps due to regretting not having left two servants in the main building earlier, but once quiet settled, the rustling crawling sounds became particularly eerie and chilling.
Only nine-year-old Oliver started crying in fear.
"We can’t stay here!" James said empathetically, "I’m going upstairs, maybe the bugs can’t crawl that far!"
"No, go to the breakfast room beside the kitchen!" Richard decided: "The fireplace there runs non-stop; insects will avoid it."
Though during a storm, insects seek drier, higher places to survive, they won’t like places extremely dry and near deadly high temperatures.
The Harrington family—
The aged yet agile Richard, his eldest daughter Victoria, son-in-law Jonathan, younger son James, Sophie carrying Oliver, and lastly woken up, Victoria’s daughter Elana.
They struggled across the insect-infested hallway and living room, finally reaching the relatively clean breakfast room.
There were significantly fewer bugs here; only a few ants wandering on the windowsill and corners, with no sign of snails or cockroaches.
Large oak pieces were placed in the stone fireplace in the evening, burning slowly for seven or eight hours.
According to routine, a few hours later, the cook and maids would come to the kitchen to start work, incidentally putting a few cherry wood logs into the fireplace.
By breakfast, the air carries a sweet fruity fragrance mixed with the sight of soft purple-tinted flames.
The dark red firewood was stacked beside the fireplace. Jonathan strode forward, threw in a few dry logs, opened the damper and air intake, and stirred with fire tongs, watching the amber flames leap up, revealing a moment of contentment.
Soon, a faint scent spread, barely dispelling the damp and decaying sense in the air.
Oliver sobbed for a while, and with her mother’s comfort, finally curled up by the warm fireplace and fell asleep.
The fireplace flames danced, casting shifting light and shadow on everyone’s faces.
Richard reclined on the sofa with eyes closed, resting; Victoria took several clean blankets and distributed them, while James opened a bottle of red wine, pouring each a glass.
"James!" Victoria looked at the number of glasses on the table, her voice cold, "Elana is only seventeen, she can’t drink."
Her brother hadn’t said anything when her daughter Elana arched an eyebrow, retorting: "Why can’t I? I can!"
She grabbed the glass defiantly, taking a large gulp as if at odds with someone.
Victoria, angry, said: "Elana!"
"None of your business!" The girl snapped back.
"Haha, right! Don’t listen to her!" James sneered, "What’s it to them if Elana starts drinking a bit early compared to the things you all have done?"
"James!" Brother-in-law Jonathan frowned and said, "Put away your untimely ’artist’s compassion.’ Our career is for all of humankind’s advancement, and some sacrifice is necessary!"
Sophie sat closely next to her daughter, her hands unconsciously patting Oliver’s back, lips tightly sealed, looking warily across her husband’s father and sister and brother-in-law.
"Compassion? I’m just speaking the truth!" James shrugged, looking at his silent father, "Look at us, Father... Don’t we look like rats on a luxury cruise? Shiny on the outside, but already..."
"Shut up! James!" Richard finally spoke, his voice not loud yet carrying usual authoritative pressure and indifference, "Don’t forget that you’re also a beneficiary of the plan!"
James knew he should keep quiet, that his privileged lifestyle entirely came from his father’s and sister’s "indulgence," and knew that continuing might bring big trouble for his family of three.
But some unfamiliar, trembling thing inside him drove an urgency to speak, to vent words suppressed for who knows how long, as if only by doing so he could find a moment’s peace.
So, James suddenly let out a cold laugh, the sound abrupt and uncanny in the silent room.
"Beneficiary? What beneficiary? Be like you, an ageless monster?"
"Why don’t you first tell me how my mother died? Why I wasn’t allowed to see her one last time?"
"And you, my dear father! Why are you always so energetic, looking younger than me? Your skin is as tight as a baby’s, haven’t you actually eaten one before?"
He chuckled, as if telling a harmless joke.
Seventeen-year-old Elana nearly snorted wine through her nose, covering her mouth to stifle the urge to cough, looking at her uncle in shock.
James... is he mad? Saying such things?
Yet, to her surprise, her autocratic and despotic grandfather Richard didn’t rebuke his son. His hand paused with the wine glass, his gaze appearing momentarily lost.
"You... you question me?" Richard asked, "You suspect I killed your mother?"
"Isn’t that so?" James asked defiantly.
"No, no... it was an accident."
Richard seemed to fall into memories, speaking slowly: "The experiment failed, something no one wanted. But her sacrifice was of great value... your mother, she helped me find a path to longer life..."