Chapter 65: The Collapse of a Middle-Class Family

Roger sat in his car, gnawing on a burger while staring at Allen's house.

"Their party's already halfway through—I think it's time." He swallowed the last bite, then grabbed his cola and drained it in one gulp.

Originally, when the party first started, he'd wanted to go talk to Allen's parents.

But suddenly, people from the neighborhood showed up.

They not only questioned the two of them about their identities, but even went to Mrs. Luoyide to inquire.

Only after confirming that Vanessa and he weren't thieves did they let them go. This book is originally published on TianTian Kan XiaoShuo -> ttks. tw, offering you a reading experience with no errors or out-of-order chapters.

Just then, the smell of food drifted from Allen's house, so they decided to eat first, then knock on the door afterward.

Hearing the man's words, Vanessa said: "I hope their good mood tonight isn't ruined."

Afterwards, the female journalist picked up her camera and followed Roger toward Allen's house.

But when the two reached the front door, Roger's nose suddenly caught a familiar scent.

"Something's off—smell it."

He stopped walking and turned to Vanessa.

Vanessa wrinkled her nose, then frowned: "A bit sweet—like bread."

"It's not just bread," Roger said, frowning. "Shit, this is leaf smell."

"You're serious?" Vanessa said, startled. "You mean they're all getting high on leaves?"

"Exactly. You know—I used to live in a homeless camp, surrounded by this smell every day. Even if they cover it with bread, I can still smell it."

After saying that, Roger raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Dong dong dong!"

"Dong dong dong!"

"Mr. Allen, are you home?"

There was no response from inside.

"Are they all baked?" Roger and the female journalist exchanged glances.

But the next second, a woman's hysterical scream erupted from inside the house!

"Fuck, call the police right now."

In Meilijian, the idea that human life is paramount doesn't exist like in Asian countries—even if meant as rescue, illegally breaking into someone's home could lead to serious criminal charges, so Roger couldn't just kick the door down.

And just as Vanessa pulled out her phone to dial, the door suddenly opened on its own.

No—it was someone who opened the door.

Little Ryan stood behind it, staring at the two visitors.

He looked disheveled—his face and arms were smeared with dirt, filthy, and he clutched a pot of palmate-leafed marijuana plants.

"Uncle, Auntie, you're here for the party too? Welcome!"

The boy's eyes were hollow, especially his smile—mechanical and stiff, like a robot programmed with no emotion left inside.

Hearing this, both Roger and Vanessa felt a cold wind crawl up their spines.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst was the blood caked on the boy's ankles.

Combined with the stench of blood, the thick sweetness, and the reek of marijuana, the air became suffocating.

After uttering his welcome, Little Ryan turned and walked inside. Roger and Vanessa followed, stepping into the house.

But when they reached the living room, the scene before them made their scalps prickle.

Unlike the cheerful atmosphere at the party's start, the scene now was chaotic—vomit littered the floor, its fermented stench lingering thickly in the air.

Guests lay unconscious on the ground, or crouched in corners, staring blankly at empty air, mumbling to themselves:

"Save me! God, I'm dying—these walls want to kill me!"

A woman, half-naked, ran around the room sobbing: "It hurts so much, Daddy!"

Worse still, a man was repeatedly stabbing another man's abdomen with a dinner knife—his hands drenched in blood, snarling: "You deserve to die! I'll kill you, Father! You deserve to die!"

Witnessing this horrifying, demonic spectacle, Roger felt his SAN Value plummet.

"What the fuck."

Vanessa couldn't hold back her nausea—she bolted back to the doorway and quickly dialed the police.

Yet the little boy seemed utterly oblivious—he simply sat on the sofa, cradling the marijuana plant, grinning vacantly.

…

Half an hour later, the area around Allen's house was packed with neighbors.

They whispered as nurses carried people out of the house.

"God, this smell is nauseating—I never thought this whole family were addicts!"

"They must move out of the neighborhood immediately—I don't want my property value to drop."

"I think the community should sue the Allens—they owe us compensation."

"Exactly!"

Listening to the chatter of these middle-class women, Roger suddenly found it bitterly ironic.

Was Allen's family an isolated case?

Was this neighborhood the only one where people smoked leaves?

Obviously not.

Yet everyone pretended to be pure and superior, attacking the Allens with the cruelest words, even planning to drain their wealth.

The most direct victim of this whole mess—Mrs. Luoyide.

Leaning on her cane, after hearing Vanessa's account, she stared at the filthy, dazed little boy and murmured: "Poor little thing—what will become of him now?"

As she spoke, her eyes grew slightly moist, and she picked up a handkerchief to dab them.

"It's all my fault for not watching over my garden. It's all my fault."

"It's not your fault, Mrs. Luoyide," Vanessa reached out and wrapped her arm around the old woman's shoulder.

Mrs. Luoyide shook her head: "You're a good child. Thank you."

She reached out and embraced Vanessa, then embraced Roger.

"Thank you."

After expressing her gratitude, she slowly walked toward her house, accompanied by her maid.

On the other side, the intelligence system also triggered a notification.

【Investigation into the Strange Theft on Yushu Jie Completed】

【You witnessed a horrifying and tragic scene. SAN Value -6, Spirit Vision +2】

【Reward Received: Skill 'Balance', Ancient God's Bronze Coin ×1, $100】

Roger looked at his panel.

【Spirit Vision: 22】

【SAN Value: 11/25 (Daily Recovery: 3 points)】

【Status: Edge of the Rift】

"Good, my status has returned."

Roger wasn't surprised; with his SAN Value shangxian increased, he had at least escaped the threat of his SAN Value dropping to zero.

He then turned to the skills section.

【Balance】

【Skill Description: If you enter the World's Useless Skills Competition, you will become champion】

【Skill Effect: Your palms gain the precision of an electronic scale, allowing you to sense minute changes in weight】

"That's awesome!" Roger had to admit he liked this skill—it felt like it would prove useful later.

"Let's go," Vanessa led Roger back into the car.

Sensing the female journalist's heavy mood, Roger shrugged: "We've done everything we could."

"You're right," Vanessa pushed back her hair. "I just don't know if little Ryan's father can be saved."

Police verification confirmed the man stabbed in the abdomen with a dinner knife was Damian Allen.

Doctors preliminarily judged that all these individuals had ingested excessive marijuana, leading to severe hallucinations and violent agitation.

The reason for the overdose remains under further investigation.

However, it was foreseeable that everyone who attended the party would lose their jobs and face the Execution Line directly.

Simultaneously, under community pressure, the Allen family would have to sell their house and leave this respectable community, moving to a lower-tier neighborhood.

This was clearly a vicious cycle.

But worse off than them was the attacker, reportedly named Percy, who would face massive compensation claims and over ten years of criminal charges.

This party had directly destroyed several middle-class families.

"Cheer up—after all, you've got your exclusive story," Roger smiled.

Vanessa perked up: "You're right. I've finally got the upper hand over that vile bitch! Thanks for the tip—I'll pay you once I get the Prepaid Debit Card."

This wasn't a national story, so the newspaper wouldn't pay—only the journalist herself would.

But after all these events, Vanessa had grown considerably; she now knew she couldn't pay Roger cash directly.

Otherwise, if her rival reported it, she'd risk losing her job.

So she'd learned to mimic lawyers' methods, using a Prepaid Debit Card as payment.

"No problem."

Roger's petty cash fund gained another entry.

Afterwards, the two parted ways; Roger drove back to Xin Yidunweier Shequ.

Just as he pulled over near the garage, he suddenly heard loud gunshots from nearby.