Chapter 96: Jason's Uniqueness: New Art

Only after locking Jason away did Louis finally relax completely.

He had outmaneuvered Jason by taking advantage of foresight—essentially snatching a lucky opportunity he had anticipated.

At present, Jason had not yet developed; he couldn’t teleport, lacked soul possession, mind manipulation, reactive evolution, and hadn’t even evolved his basic physical abilities like strength and speed to their later heights.

Even so, controlling him required using underhanded tactics like exploiting familial bonds.

It was easy to imagine how powerful Jason would become later.

With such a guardian, physical attacks would rarely be able to harm him again.

Hmm, assuming the inheritance quickly yields content on this subject.

“I wonder if I can harm or control Jason through his soul, or use hypnosis? His mother’s words—he’d have to listen, right? But that seems too unreliable…”

Jason was resurrected by the Book of the Dead, his soul returning from Hell; logically, his soul should be the most extraordinary part, yet he kept being revived repeatedly after death, growing stronger each time, even his flesh undergoing metamorphosis—something unknown must have occurred.

Especially that Book of the Dead—it’s deeply problematic, but it wasn’t found at Crystal Lake, and no one knows where it ended up.

“Jason’s soul… probably possesses immortality too. No, his immortality likely originates from his soul… If I used it to burn poison fire, hmm…”

Louis’s eyes lit up; he immediately activated his Evil Perception. A flame mark appeared on his brow as he gazed into the truck’s cargo area—but the sensed situation was complex; the evil presence seemed faint, almost nonexistent?

Sometimes intense, sometimes blank.

What’s going on? Strange.

Louis frowned tightly.

“Louis, we need to go—the townspeople are almost here,” said André, having already led a team to clean up the battlefield.

Of course, the burning trees, upturned earth, and shell casings couldn’t be cleared—but as long as they weren’t caught on-site, incidents involving heavy weapons still had room for maneuver; after all, this wasn’t an urban area.

“Let’s go.”

Louis decided to study it further after returning; besides, Jason was a dangerous individual—unlike the dormant Cannibal Demon, the rear mountain’s environment and facilities were utterly inadequate. He needed a new base.

But before leaving, one more person needed handling.

André forcibly dragged the dripping wet Tang Mi into the vehicle.

Come on—how could a living witness be left behind?

Vrrrrm!!

The engine roared with explosive power again; the convoy swiftly departed from the small town along the highway.

Only after they left did townspeople, led by the sheriff, arrive at the scene. Seeing the devastation, many were terrified, faces pale with panic. “Is… is that legend true? Does Crystal Lake really have Jason?”

The sheriff crouched down, examining the soot marks, shell casings, and the half-blade Jason had lost. He shook his head. “It’s Jason—but someone ambushed him here. They used a machine gun. Fuck, what the hell do they think this place is? A war zone?!”

His words triggered a chorus of screams from the townspeople behind him.

But what they truly cared about wasn’t the machine gun—it was Jason. Did this terrifying killer truly exist?

“Then the lovers’ motel victims were definitely killed by Jason.”

But the problem was—how could he report this? That an immortal Jason was roaming around killing people?

Shit!

The sheriff had no time to ponder this—he had to calm the panicked townspeople first. His salary came from them; they were his primary responsibility. The government above was secondary.

As for accountability from above? With these shell casings, he’d just blame it all on them!

…

On the other side, the convoy raced down the highway, forcing oncoming vehicles to veer aside.

André drove furiously while pulling out a military-green canteen and downing a gulp.

Sniff… sniff…

“Fuck! You’re drinking?!”

Louis stared at André in shock.

“Just a little drink—warms the stomach,” André waved dismissively.

“Don’t worry—I’ve been driving for eighteen years. I’ve driven tanks. No chance of an accident.”

Louis said nothing, silently fastening his seatbelt. He swore: if he ever rode in this guy’s car again, he’d be a dog.

Wind howled past his ears; the wilderness outside blurred by in an instant.

When they reached a roadside motel for a brief rest…

Thud!

The car door slammed shut.

“Hey Louis, seriously—I’m a safe driver, you can trust me!” André called out loudly.

But Louis still turned away without looking back, climbing into another vehicle with a dark expression. “Go. Home.”

The driver was baffled but started the engine anyway.

Vrrr!

The convoy started again.

Destination: Miami.

This time, riding was far more stable. Louis opened a bottle of cola.

Sitting in the car, sipping cola, cool wind brushing his face, he gazed at the scenery along the highway—occasionally spotting unusual sights.

The open culture had its perks—eye-catching.

Too bad he was still young. Though he’d developed, to ensure better future maneuverability and avoid regretting in his thirties, he still needed to wait a bit longer. But if the Dual Cultivation Art arrived sooner, would he even need to endure this?

Perhaps due to his age, his puberty had arrived—he couldn’t help but drift into idle thoughts. Fortunately, his mind was stronger than his body; he recognized the situation, slapped his cheeks, and activated Qi Gong.

“Huh…”

Calming his thoughts, he closed his eyes and began observing the People’s Canon within his soul.

This victory over Jason—did it even count as defeating a strong enemy? After all, he’d used firearms and mobilized family influence.

But shouldn’t the Left Path not care about such things?

External tools are also strength.

Rustle, rustle—the pages turned.

This time, Louis noticed something: the People’s Canon’s glow was brighter than before. Upon closer inspection, two-thirds of the cover’s surface shone more intensely than the remaining third.

Two-thirds…

The Art of Aberrant Techniques… The Witchcraft and Curse Sect…

It seemed that once the Thousand Thieves, Beggars, Prostitutes section unlocked, the People’s Canon might open its core inheritance—the Left Path section?

What exactly were these “Thousand Thieves, Beggars, Prostitutes”? Why were they locked last? In ancient times, these were considered bottom-tier professions—could there be something different?

The sound of turning pages gradually ceased. Two pages glowed brilliantly, their light interrupting Louis’s thoughts.

Louis pulled his focus back and looked at the pages.

Only two pages unlocked, not three—was it because he relied on external force? Or because Jason’s current strength was insufficient?

The thought vanished instantly. Louis fixed his gaze on the two newly unlocked pages.

One was the Art of Aberrant Techniques. The other was the Witchcraft and Curse Sect.

(End of Chapter)