Chapter 1903: U - Beyond the Great Event (24)

The atmosphere in the restaurant was exceptionally heavy.

This was a Gothic long table that spanned the entire room. The heavy metal table emitted a dull, matte luster. The table runner was a deep blue, so dark it was almost indistinguishable from black, and atop it sat vases of the same color holding pure white flowers.

The napkins and tableware in front of everyone were pure white. Aside from the flames of the candelabra placed between the two vases, there was not a single warm color to be seen on the entire table.

The people sitting around the table were almost all wearing dark suits, sporting ties that also lacked any color bias. Their collars were perfectly aligned, and even their tie knots were tied in identical fashion. The attire and the atmosphere didn't look like a wedding banquet; it looked more like a funeral.

It wasn't hard to see that some of them were completely unaccustomed to wearing suits, yet they were doing everything in their power to squeeze themselves into these black shells, forcing themselves to adapt to this gray, heavy exterior.

It was precisely because the vast majority were like this that the remaining few stood out so starkly. When Lady Nihilite entered the restaurant, she noticed those few out-of-place figures almost immediately.

Shiler was refolding his napkin. His movements were small but very meticulous. Bat-B was smiling and making small talk with another businessman. Natasha was just sitting there quietly, yet she was incredibly eye-catching. Batman was examining the silver cutlery in his hand.

What made them stand out the most was that they lacked that air of trepidation, that worry about doing something wrong. Instead, they were very composed, not even feeling like they were the odd ones out.

Lady Nihilite tightened her grip on her handkerchief slightly, but she still walked into the restaurant with her head held high, offering a somewhat stiff smile to all the guests.

Shiler looked up at the lady entering. She was a noblewoman whose physiological age appeared to be just over thirty, yet she carried herself with the exhaustion and decadence of someone in their fifties or sixties.

She wore a perfectly appropriate black dress, high-collared and long-sleeved, with a ruffled collar that reached the tip of her chin. Her cuffs covered half the back of her hands. Only the cinched curve of her waist revealed her graceful figure, though even that was mostly obscured by the shawl draped over her arm.

She wore a small fascinator hat with a half-veil. Beneath the black netting, her eyes looked somewhat turbid. Although dark circles and bloodshot eyes greatly obscured her beauty, one could still tell from her facial bone structure and features that she was a quite beautiful woman.

Shiler sighed softly. It was a pity that this lady's stiff, one might even say rigid, behavior erased most of her beauty, yet it failed to support the inner spirit of her external persona; she looked like a walking corpse.

In Shiler's view, everyone else in the living room was posturing with their appearance. Because their status was not equal to that of the Nihilite family, and they were mostly here to ask for favors, they hoped to gain some confidence by using information they had obtained in advance to dress in the way the Nihilite family liked best.

And was this lady not doing the same? She was by no means a person with the true mettle to support the family, yet she had to dress in that direction; this, too, was the source of her confidence.

If one wanted to know the difference between having true confidence and forcing an appearance, one only needed to look at the images of Natasha and Lady Nihilite at this moment.

In terms of dress, Lady Nihilite was more deserving of the title "Black Widow." After all, she was black from head to toe, her expression was gloomy, and her temperament was somber, looking just like a young widow full of resentment.

Natasha, however, was as stunning as a sword drawn from its scabbard. Her cascading red hair set off her bright, beautiful face, making her look like a rose newly bloomed among the withered branches of a burned garden.

Lady Nihilite naturally noticed this as well. There were many women among the guests, and many were quite beautiful, but none were as eye-catching as Natasha. The fundamental reason was Natasha's sharp, aggressive temperament, which made her beauty her best weapon.

Natasha turned to look at Lady Nihilite. After her eyes widened slightly for a split second, she nodded at her in a friendly manner. Lady Nihilite's hand gripping the handkerchief tightened further, to the point where veins almost popped out.

She offered another stiff smile, sat in the main seat with the help of a servant, pursed her lips in silence for a moment, and then raised her wine glass to toast the guests.

"Thank you all very much for coming. The Nihilite family expresses our heartfelt gratitude for your presence."

After speaking, she tilted her head back and took a sip of red wine, while Shiler's gaze fell upon the slightly trembling muscles of her wrist.

It looked like a very ordinary physiological spasm, but on a withered, pale hand, it added a sense of morbid gloom.

Shiler slowly set down his wine glass, withdrawing his gaze before Lady Nihilite could notice his observation. Lady Nihilite continued, "I will not hide it from you all: the Nihilite family has indeed encountered some trouble. The butler should have informed you of some of the details before you arrived."

"Because the situation is urgent, I will forgo the pleasantries. In the eyes of you capable masters, why did my eldest son, Owen, suddenly fall ill? And why has my daughter gone mad?"

Lady Nihilite could not hide her anxiety and sorrow. To a group of professional con artists, this was the hallmark of a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Immediately, someone spoke up, "Apologies, my lady, no offense intended, but from my experience, this could be the work of ghosts..."

"Nonsense! This is likely a very ancient curse, stemming from the Nihilite family bloodline, dating back to the 'Nihilite the Valiant'."

"Yes, exactly! This is an Indian curse. I saw the vengeful spirits of Indians screaming on the young lady of your house!"

"You bunch of frauds! What does this have to do with curses or ghosts? It is clearly a problem with the magnetic field of the Nihilite Manor! The magnetic field here affects the human spirit, leading to brainwave disorder. We must believe in science!"

"Science, my foot! Didn't you see the strength Miss Nihilite displayed earlier? Is that the strength a five or six-year-old girl should have? She was definitely possessed by an evil spirit!"

"I think so too, and her condition is very dangerous. The ghost is likely manipulating her to hurt people in the manor. My lady, you had better lock her up quickly and then perform an exorcism!"

Everyone spoke over one another; some agreed, some disagreed, but in the end, the ghost and curse theories occupied the vast majority.

Many people, in order to show their enthusiasm, could be said to be spitting as they recounted their theories, focusing more on refuting their opponents' arguments, failing to notice that the expression on Lady Nihilite's face was becoming increasingly ashen.

Just as this was happening, a figure rushed into the restaurant, blocked by several servants. Shiler, who was eating, paused his knife tip and looked up at the figure who had broken in. It was a middle-aged man in a camel-colored plaid suit. His face shape was somewhat similar to Lady Nihilite's, and he sported a somewhat comical handlebar mustache.

"Drive this bunch of damn frauds out! Drive them all away! They are all a bunch of fame-seeking, dirty, low-class, stupid, brainless bad seeds..."

The middle-aged man shouted, spitting as he spoke. Lady Nihilite's face changed drastically, and she stood up, pointing at the middle-aged man and shouting to the servants, "Take him away! Take him away quickly!"

"Mr. Plosie, Mr. Plosie! Please leave here quickly! Come with us quickly! This is the lady's important banquet, you cannot..."

The short middle-aged man broke free from the male servants' restraint and shouted at Lady Nihilite, "Sister, you know that is not a ghost! You know that is not a ghost!"

Mr. Plosie was still taken away. Lady Nihilite watched his retreating figure as he was carried off, her expression unreadable. After a while, she turned back, looked down at the tableware, and said, "He is my crazy brother. Ever since my maiden family fell into decline, he has been staying here. He has very serious mental problems and makes a scene every few days. He is truly getting crazier. Please do not mind him."

An elderly man who looked like a priest stood up and said, "My lady, the situation of your children is truly not right. Although it is somewhat rushed and presumptuous, we had better prepare a simple exorcism ritual first."

"Hello, sir, may I ask..."

"I am from the Trapp district church and am currently a bishop of a rural diocese. If you trust me, I will go prepare holy water and a crucifix now."

Lady Nihilite was just about to speak when the old man made the sign of the cross on his chest and said, "Please do not mind, my lady. I am raising funds for the orphanage in my district. There are many children in the orphanage who were mistakenly thought by their parents to be possessed by demons. I have quite a bit of experience with this. Please let me try."

Lady Nihilite immediately wiped the corners of her eyes with the handkerchief in her hand and said, "Thank God, it must be God who sent you to my side. If my children are saved, my husband and I will personally travel to your diocese in the second half of the year to express our gratitude."

Others looked at one another, not daring to speak up to refute or seize the opportunity. This old man was a licensed priest; even if they were unwilling, they did not dare to cross him to steal the spotlight.

Besides, everyone had some misgivings in their hearts about the so-called demonic possession. The performance of that young lady in the garden was truly too terrifying. It would be fine if there were no demons, but what if there really were? Wouldn't they be torn to pieces? So letting someone else scout the path was for the best.

Just like that, the rest of the banquet was enjoyable for both host and guests. Lady Nihilite's gaze fell upon the two Batmen and Shiler several times, but she did not speak. These few oddballs in strange attire were exceptionally silent at this time, as if they were not interested in demonic possession at all.

It wasn't until the banquet was nearing its end, well past 12:00 noon, that the famous Mr. Nihilite and another tall man returned to the manor.

As soon as he walked into the restaurant, he attracted everyone's attention. No one looked at Lady Nihilite, who was sitting in the main seat, anymore; instead, they all stepped forward to make small talk with Mr. Nihilite.

Mr. Nihilite was somewhat short and relatively thin, wearing a pair of round-rimmed glasses, looking like a genial businessman.

But he was also wearing a black coat, with pants, hat, and bow tie all in matte black. Only his inner sweater was white, a pure white without any patterns. The whole person blended perfectly into the heavy, solemn atmosphere of the restaurant.

Yet he was not the most exaggerated one. The man behind him, known as Mr. Hancock, was a true walking black sculpture. He was black from head to toe—shirt, coat, boots, all wrapped tightly. Beneath the brim of his hat was an extremely serious face, and his gloomy gaze scanned back and forth over everyone like a scanning beam.

Finally, Hancock saw Shiler's group sitting by the dining table, not in a hurry to stand up. Shiler watched him with his own eyes, his eyebrows knitted together, the deep lines on his forehead overlapping into crisscrossing gullies, his eyes full of contempt and dissatisfaction.

And the moment Natasha stood up from her chair and turned around, Hancock's eyes went blank for a second, but he did not look away immediately. A smile immediately curled onto the corner of Natasha's mouth.

"Talking endlessly!" Arthur sniffed again, the muscles on his neck twitched, and he smoked while saying: "The media is full of these things, and I understand that destroying those flowers won't help. I've tried it, but it's useless."

"Then what did you do?" Bruce asked with some curiosity.

Arthur turned his head, tucked in his chin, and looked at Bruce from his eye sockets, saying: "I will blow up cars, let them understand that in the world they don't care about, those who don't have the leisure to look at flowers will spend effort to do what."

"Where did you get the bombs?" Bruce asked again.

Arthur hunched his head back and said: "That's not something you should ask."

Lord Superman looked at all this silently, his gaze lingering on Bruce's face for a long time, as if he wished he could use heat vision to probe into his brain and stir it up to see what he was thinking.

A Batman with no hatred for the Joker?

Lord Superman didn't know what he was recalling at this moment, but he knew it didn't matter anymore, so he turned his head to look at the screen.

"...... If you refuse to answer my questions, I will raise the cage by one meter. When the Q&A ends, the cage will land."

Just after the rules were announced, Spider-Man let out an exclamation: "God, did you hear what he just said? They grabbed some innocent passersby from our universe, and then used them for this kind of cruel experiment. My god!!!"

Except for Constantine frowning slightly, the others had no reaction, but Lord Superman frowned and looked at Bruce, his gaze carefully sizing him up on his face, almost seeing every fold of muscle, but saw no anger.

Just as everyone was distracted, screams erupted one after another in the arena.

"Let me out, let me out, where is this? Am I dreaming?!!!"

"Damn it, you bunch of kidnappers, I'm going to call the police, I will definitely make you look good!!"

"Help, help, help!!!"