Chapter 84: Nature Reserve: Hobbs Creek Estate

Dallas.

The ninth-largest city in the United States, located in north-central Texas, far from the Gulf of Mexico, and the third-largest city in Texas.

Louis and the others’ target was Dallas, but not the city itself—its surrounding natural scenic areas were the real goal, because Dallas was an energy city, its economy centered on the oil industry, and there was nothing interesting within the city.

Fortunately, the Hobbs Creek Estate recommended by the farmer was nearby, and it bordered a nature reserve.

The surrounding scenery was excellent; even on the other side of the reserve, opposite Hobbs Creek Estate, there was a newly built town, said to have been constructed by a group of white billionaires for retirement retreats.

At this point, Louis and the others had arrived in Dallas by car.

In 1990s America, major cities were already highly developed; many elements of future modernity could already be seen here, and people’s lifestyles were trendy, with pop music playing everywhere, Michael Jackson’s music dominating the charts.

But the public security had always been poor—corners were filled with hip-hop kids, drug addicts…

In short, it was best not to go near the corners.

After a few days in Dallas, Louis and the others grew bored; unlike New Orleans, saturated with French culture, there was truly nothing to do here.

Soon, after collecting their room keys, the group headed toward the nature reserve surrounding Dallas.

But Louis had no intention of entering the reserve—he disliked forests, they hindered movement, and too many horror films featured terrifying forest scenes.

So he advised David not to go inside; David listened, deciding instead to fish by the lake outside and enjoy the scenery, avoiding any inside exploration.

Moreover, their main destination was the Hobbs Creek Estate, rumored to have hot spring spa facilities.

Driving along the mountain road, vehicles gradually dwindled as they kept turning onto branching paths.

Eventually, only one car remained ahead, traveling with David’s group.

But the other car didn’t seem to be on the same route—soon David overtook it; as he passed, Louis glanced over and saw a young white man talking on the phone.

Returning his attention to the road, David turned onto another lane, heading toward Hobbs Creek Estate on the map.

Meanwhile, the white man drove onto a different fork—but suddenly, he noticed what looked like a car accident ahead.

“Oh shit!”

He cursed, then called his interviewers at the company, saying he’d need more time to arrive, while turning the car around, taking a curve onto the opposite lane.

But halfway through the call, the signal dropped.

He had entered the edge of the nature reserve; tall trees blocked the signal.

He looked ahead and saw a small wooden cabin—perhaps a tiny gas station?

He pulled over and saw an unkempt old man lounging lazily by the door. “Hey, hi—can we get through here? Is there a road?”

The old man glanced at him, then pointed to a sign by the door showing a map with a red line marking a path through the nature reserve, leading straight to the highway ahead.

“Thank you. Have a nice day.”

The man placed down a few bills, carefully memorized the red line, then got back in his car and drove down the path.

But he didn’t notice that behind him, the unkempt old man subtly shook his head and muttered softly, “Good luck.”

Whoosh!

A swarm of black crows took flight from the branches, letting out a sharp cry.

…

On the other side, Hobbs Creek Estate was not far from the previous fork—just twenty minutes later, they arrived.

Indeed, this place was extraordinary: it exuded a sense of weight, old yet elegant, clearly built many years ago, the stone monument at the estate gate entwined with ivy.

In the corners of the spacious courtyard, several cars were parked—clearly, many guests were staying.

As soon as they stopped, a waiter immediately approached to serve them.

He walked them through the services step by step.

But the waiter glanced at Louis’s side at Jin Guang, “Sorry, the estate has a rule: no dogs allowed inside. Perhaps you can leave it in the car—we can also store it for you.”

Louis ignored him, crouching down to look at Jin Guang.

Jin Guang was behaving strangely—his eyes constantly scanned the estate’s surroundings, his nose twitching repeatedly, as if meticulously sniffing.

He lingered longest in two directions; after a moment, as if completing his inspection, he rubbed against Louis’s leg, barked once toward the back mountain, then shifted direction and barked again toward a specific spot on the estate.

Seeing this, Louis narrowed his eyes, patted Jin Guang’s head, then stood up.

“Alright, leave it in the car.”

The waiter’s lips twitched slightly, but he maintained his polite demeanor, “Very well, please go in.”

Soon, Louis and David and the others were assigned rooms—all on the second floor, clustered together; because of Jin Guang’s behavior, Louis was now alert, observing carefully.

He quickly noticed other small oddities.

There were very few staff—only one manager named Jackson, and the estate’s owner, Sally, behaved far too intimately with Jackson.

Then there were the estate’s decorations.

They looked beautiful and luxurious: crystal chandeliers, silver dinnerware, antique furniture, sculptures, paintings—perfectly matching the word “extravagant.”

Yet with such extravagance, they had almost no security—weren’t they afraid of theft?

Also, the portraits of past estate owners were strange: in every group photo, there was always someone wearing a sack, and the number of such figures seemed to be increasing.

Of course, these were all minor issues; ultimately, Louis felt everything was off because of Jin Guang’s behavior.

In the room, Louis communicated with Jin Guang, who had climbed up the pipes and windowsill.

Since Jin Guang’s cultivation was still in its early stage and hadn’t reached the level of becoming a spirit-beast, he couldn’t speak to communicate.

But Jin Guang was a Xigou, a mountain hound trained to track prey by scent, and his cultivation path was specifically that of the Xiaotianquan, a dog bred to hunt demons in the mountains.

Thus, his sense of smell was extremely powerful, his intelligence considerable, and Louis trusted his dog absolutely.

After brief communication, Louis received his answer.

He had smelled blood—thick, heavy, hundreds or even thousands of bloodstains—and… human blood.

Some of the scents were old, but he could still detect them.

At that moment,

Jin Guang suddenly barked once toward the first floor, then barked a few more times—quieter than before, faint.

Louis froze.

It was noon.

Lunch was being served downstairs—steak, perhaps?

So…

(End of Chapter)