Chapter 1: Emilia

America.

Late 1980s.

The bipolar rivalry had reached its final stage; as the old empire’s crisis intensified, the last victor was about to claim the crown named Lighthouse.

Prosperity had also bloomed vividly in this nation.

Florida State, Miami City.

A kidnapping occurred at the renowned Cano family—its patriarch’s third son’s illegitimate child had been abducted.

In an era when the RICO Act had already been enacted, gangs suffered heavy blows, but the Cano family, rooted in Miami for seventy years, had become an entrenched local power.

Thus, on every street and alley, people hurried about, glancing left and right, as if searching for something.

This scene lasted for a long time, yet the rumored brilliant illegitimate child was never found; whispers spread that the boy had already descended into hell.

……

Mississippi State.

Inside a manor in a small town.

A group of children with varied skin tones sat quietly in a large room.

These children were all young—the oldest only eight or nine, the youngest as little as three or four, ages normally full of mischief—but now they sat utterly still, their eyes fixed on the staircase corner, filled with fear.

One child, head bowed, was being lightly kicked by two girls.

Louis awoke from daze, stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, shock flashing in his eyes, then swiftly regained composure.

“Alright, Mary, Emma, I’m fine.”

The two girls stopped kicking.

Louis, now awake, also turned his gaze toward the staircase landing, his eyes filled with curiosity and wariness.

Thud-thud-thud!

The muffled sound of high heels striking wooden floors.

Following it came a blonde woman in a nightgown, her figure extremely alluring, curvaceous, face showing signs of aging yet still retaining grace, even hinting at youthful beauty; beside her walked a strong white teenage boy.

The woman gazed greedily, then took a test tube from her person.

“Oh, Nuel, look at these children—see which one meets the criteria. You know, there’s not much time left. If you still can’t make me bear a new life, I’ll need a new husband.”

“Mother, I—I understand.”

Nuel looked at the children sitting obediently in the living room; his eyes held pity, yet a flicker of anger.

Then the woman sat on the recliner. “Mary, Emma, come here.”

Louis’s heart skipped—he saw the two girls beside him, their eyes tinged with fear, forcing calm expressions as they hurried over.

The woman greedily stared at their smooth skin, caressed their cheeks, even extended her tongue to lightly lick their earlobes.

“Youth… so young… If my child hadn’t been stolen, I’d look like this now.”

She whispered softly.

But Louis had no time to ponder the meaning of those words.

Before all the children’s terrified gazes, Nuel dragged over the oldest boy, dripped the liquid from the test tube into a glass, and forcibly poured it down his throat.

Glug-glug…

Then—

Boom!

The boy’s face flushed red, but moments later, a bursting sound came from below, followed by screams and blood.

Nuel’s face darkened; he dragged one child after another, like Death calling names. Soon, all the nine-year-olds lay dead, the air thick with the stench of blood.

“Useless trash! I doubt those paid fools are lying to me—this is what they call smart children from every state?! Liars! Liars!”

Emilia, furious, her once-elegant face twisted into a grotesque mask.

Nuel immediately herded everyone back into the rooms on the first floor like driving livestock.

Due to limited rooms, four children were crammed into one cramped space.

Louis was in the same room as Emma and Mary, along with another girl who looked cold and indifferent, watching them.

Huddled on the sofa, Louis began to think.

His past life’s memories need not be detailed—it was a story of good intentions repaid with betrayal.

In this life, he was the illegitimate son of the Cano family’s third son; his mother was Chinese, his father Italian. Though part of a gang and an illegitimate child, his life had been decent, even earning him a reputation as a prodigy, drawing his grandfather’s attention.

Until recently, while on the way to kindergarten, he was suddenly kidnapped, then met two other girls during transport, finally arriving here.

Today, in an attempt to escape, he and the two girls secretly witnessed the horrific sight of the boys who drank the potion—and that shock triggered his memory awakening.

Recalling the bloody corpses, Louis unconsciously frowned.

Don’t misunderstand—he frowned not merely because it was gruesome, but because of everything he’d endured in this manor in such a short time.

The aging woman named Emilia aged too rapidly—and she was, in fact, a… witch!

Yes, a witch.

They had all seen her eyes roll back as she levitated older children attempting to escape, right out of thin air.

That was why everyone trembled and dared not resist.

At that moment—

“Portugal.”

Mary, the blonde girl flipping through a book, closed it and spoke.

?

All three turned to her. “What?”

“I said, the witch and her son were speaking Portuguese. I’ve checked—the book confirms it.”

“You mean you can learn a language just by reading?” The cold girl smirked.

“Of course, émuitosimples (it’s simple).” Mary spoke with utter certainty.

The cold girl was stunned, then her expression softened, as if wanting to say something.

Mary, triumphant, turned to Emma, eager to see her friend’s shock—but Emma maintained a faint, calm smile, her gaze flickering toward Louis.

Seeing this, Mary snorted and turned to Louis—only to find he gave no reaction. She dashed over, stomping her feet.

Louis paid no attention to their petty drama.

Portuguese? So is this Portugal?

Impossible. Though transported through many places, the timeline doesn’t add up—no plane or ship was used; they’re almost certainly still in America.

So… Portuguese ancestry? No—speaking this language daily suggests immigration. This is the world’s largest immigrant nation.

Portuguese immigrants to America, a witch, collecting children, forcing older ones to ingest potions.

Then what’s the purpose?

Recalling the woman’s words as she hugged the two girls, could it be…

“Curiosity kills cats. Right now, I must find a way to escape.” Louis thought to himself.

“Louis, is my Portuguese correct?”

The proud, brilliant little girl Mary thrust the book forward, like a peacock spreading its tail, reciting a stream of Portuguese.

“Oh, uh.”

Louis murmured vaguely, his eyes glancing over.

The next instant, his gaze froze.

He stared fixedly at the book written in Portuguese.

Before his eyes, the book’s appearance blurred, then transformed drastically.

Four familiar, ancient characters appeared on the cover.

Left Dao Folk Canon!

ps: Plot inspired by the Portuguese film “Emilia’s Child.” Personally, I think it’s a bad movie—somewhat grotesque.

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(End of Chapter)