Chapter 165: Parchment

The night wind, carrying the salty brine of the sea, blew through the North American Union Port.

A thing as thin as a cicada wing spun out of a dark villa window and drifted lightly onto the filthy street.

Scott, an ordinary dock worker, had just spent his last coin.

He trudged home, muttering curses, and kicked a roadside soda can away with his foot.

"Damn it!"

He lowered his head and saw the strange "paper" at his feet.

The object resembled a yellowed parchment, but its texture was odd.

He picked it up and examined it under the dim streetlamp.

A twisted, terrified human face outline still lingered on it.

Scott slipped it into his pocket, treating it as an interesting scrap that might fetch some pocket money.

Back home, he placed the parchment on the table, opened a cheap beer, and anxiously tugged his hair.

Bills and collection calls pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

Suddenly, he accidentally cut his finger on the sharp edge of the soda can's pull tab.

"Pain, damn!"

A bead of blood seeped out and landed precisely on the parchment.

A Weird scene unfolded.

The drop was absorbed like by a sponge and vanished instantly.

Then, on the paper, blood‑red characters twisted into view.

【With your blood, exchange for truth.】

Scott was so frightened he nearly threw the beer can, his eyes wide, thinking the alcohol had given him a hallucination.

He trembled and looked again.

The characters were crystal clear.

An absurd thought surfaced in his alcohol‑and‑despair‑numbed mind.

Adopting a try‑anything attitude, he asked the Human Skin Paper:

"Tell me which stock will rise tomorrow?"

The Blood Characters faded, then reconvened.

【KBT Biotechnology.】

Scott's heart hammered.

The next day, he clenched his teeth and poured his remaining savings into that obscure stock.

Opening.

Surge!

Within a day, it tripled.

Seeing the numbers swell in his account, Scott was ecstatic.

He rushed home, cradling the Human Skin Paper like a relic, his eyes shining.

He knew what he had found was not trash.

It was a divine oracle!

From that day on, Scott's life changed completely.

Each query required only a drop of his own blood, and it yielded the most precise Intelligence.

Which company will be acquired, which project will win the bid, which billionaire has a hidden scandal...

His wealth accumulated rapidly like a rolling snowball.

He moved from a rundown apartment to a seaside mansion and drove a sports car.

But his temper grew increasingly irritable and paranoid, locking himself in his room all day, murmuring to the Human Skin Paper.

And he discovered a problem.

The Human Skin Paper's appetite grew larger.

At first, only a single drop was needed.

Later, a slit had to be cut on a finger.

Eventually, he had to slice his own wrist, letting blood flow onto the paper for the Blood Characters to appear.

Scott's body grew increasingly weak, his complexion as pale as a corpse.

His dependence on Intelligence had seeped into his marrow, impossible to quit.

That day, he slit his wrist again, but the blood that flowed was insufficient to activate the Human Skin Paper.

The Blood Characters only half‑appeared before fading.

"Not enough... not enough!"

Scott stared at his scar‑covered wrist, desperation flashing in his eyes.

No.

He could not lose all this!

A mad thought sprouted in his greed‑dominated mind like a venomous snake.

Since his own blood was insufficient.

Then use someone else's.

A dark alley at midnight.

Scott lured a ragged homeless man here, saying, "Friend, I have a hundred dollars and half a bottle of whiskey; do me a favor."

The homeless man hadn't reacted yet when a sharp knife thrust into his abdomen.

Warm blood spurted out.

Scott expressionlessly dragged the homeless man's corpse to the corner and smeared his blood over the entire Human Skin Paper.

The Human Skin Paper emitted an unprecedented eerie red glow.

Lines of Blood Characters erupted wildly, revealing a business secret that could make him a billionaire.

And also a method to perfectly evade all surveillance and police investigations.

Scott stared at the dazzling red light, his eyes completely consumed by bloodlust and greed.

He was no longer human.

He was now the Human Skin Paper's most faithful slave.

Within the North American Union, similar "blood‑draining murder cases" began to appear sporadically.

The victims' entire blood was drained, leaving them in a tragic state of death.

The North American Union authorities were at their wits' end; they soon realized this was not an ordinary serial murder case but a Weird incident beyond their comprehension.

The Chicago tragedy still hung over them like a nightmare.

They finally set aside their arrogance and proactively contacted the Federal Weird Investigation Bureau.

They hoped to use this case as a breakthrough point for the Federation's involvement in the North American Union, laying groundwork for future formal cooperation.

Federal Weird Investigation Bureau, headquarters.

"Report!"

Jiang Yuan stood perfectly straight, his voice resonant.

This was the second official mission he had received, and he was in a state of exhilaration.

In the B17 zhan shu zhun bei shi, Captain Wang Zhangzhi stood with his back to him, silently polishing a uniquely shaped pistol with steady, rhythmic motions.

He turned, and on his weather‑worn face, iron resolve met calm.

"It's here."

Wang Zhangzhi slapped a file bearing a North American map onto the table before Jiang Yuan.

In the corner, a petite figure poked its head out.

Mo Shu blinked at Jiang Yuan, a pair of shallow dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth.

"Hey, Flying Cards client, are you ready for a government‑funded trip?"

Jiang Yuan's cheeks warmed slightly.

"Mo Shu sister."

Jiang Yuan opened the file.

The first page showed horrifying photos of several victims whose blood had been drained, their desiccated forms churning his stomach.

"The content of this mission," Wang Zhangzhi's voice was steady and powerful:

"It is to go to the North American Union, investigate the 'Gan Shi An', uncover the truth. If it is a Weird act, assess the threat and, if necessary, conduct containment."

He paused briefly, then added.

"Additionally, there is another task."

"The hydrogen bomb blast in Chicago occurred some time ago, and radiation levels have fallen below the safety line. You must don protective suits, enter the ruins, and help the North American Union verify whether the 'Spider Humanoid' has been completely eradicated, ensuring the disaster does not recur."

Jiang Yuan's heartbeat quickened.

Chicago!

The city that nuclear weapons erased from the map!

He clenched his fist, his eyes filled with yearning and passion for the mission.

"Yes! I guarantee the mission will be completed!"

Hours later.

A dedicated aircraft broke through the clouds, heading toward Beimei Dalu.

Jiang Yuan leaned against the porthole, watching the tiny mountains and rivers below, his mood lingering unsettled.

A brand‑new world, full of unknowns and danger, was slowly unfolding before him.

Meanwhile.

North America, Chicago.

The once‑prosperous city now lay only as a charred ruin.

In the depths of the dead silent subway station, darkness like thick ink devoured everything.

"Crack......"

A bone‑cracking sound that made teeth tingle rang out.

In the darkness, a twisted humanoid silhouette slowly lifted its head.

Its limbs, like spider joint segments, scraped the cement floor, producing a harsh screech.

On its face remained scorch marks from high heat, its eyes flashing a non‑human, hungry, eerie glow in the boundless darkness.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the city.

Above a leveled ruin.

The outline of an abandoned hospital flickered in the air, half‑visible.

It did not belong to this ruin, resembling a mirage or a projection from another dimension.

On the hospital's dilapidated gate, a rust‑stained sign faintly read—Saint John Hospital.

The boundaries of space began to blur.

A Weird Domain composed of cold Rules and endless terror silently formed in the crevice between reality and illusion.

It is waiting for its first batch of "visitors".

ps:

Post a chapter first.

I've been working overtime for a week straight, the draft has been sent, and I'll finish today's second chapter tonight.

This week I have to work overtime on both Saturday and Sunday…

If you have the means, give me some support; my current state really feels like I need some external motivation (laugh‑cry).