Chapter 389: Dangerous Substance

Hoffa and Miller walked through the pristine, spotless hall. Due to the strange and intense psychic field present here, Miller did not use the Illusion Charm. Fortunately, the hall was empty, with no one in sight. Only along the passageways were there several transparent rooms filled with complex Muggle instruments, their purposes unknown.

After walking forward for about fifty meters, they came upon a lush flowerbed. Flowers intertwined with thick, gnarled roots, and on the grass, an elderly man lay resting. This old man was incredibly aged, his entire body covered in wrinkled folds.

Beside him hung an IV drip, connected to his body. However, unlike an ordinary glass IV bottle, this one had a delicate crystal tube attached to it.

The crystal tube was empty, containing nothing inside.

At that moment, footsteps echoed through the hall. Hoffa immediately grabbed Miller's hand and pulled him behind a pile of Muggle instruments to hide.

A female nurse approached gracefully from a distance, holding a small bottle of liquid. She walked up to the old man and carefully dripped a few drops of the liquid into the crystal tube with extreme caution.

As Hoffa observed, another nurse emerged from the adjacent room and spoke to the one handling the liquid.

"Pena, Guest No. 3 has run out of a heart. Go get him a replacement."

"Understood," the female nurse replied.

After finishing with the liquid, she stood up and walked away.

The second nurse stepped forward, inspected the old man's body, made a few notes, and then left as well.

Once both nurses had gone, Hoffa and Miller emerged from their hiding spot and approached the elderly man on the IV drip. At this moment, the crystal tube was now filled with a faintly purple liquid.

The liquid flowed gently. Though its color was subtle, tiny sparkling particles swirled within it in a chaotic manner. It was so crystalline and brilliant, resembling a reflection of the cosmos in water—utterly mesmerizing.

Bit by bit, the liquid trickled down into the IV bottle, where it was diluted before entering the old man's body. He smacked his lips, a satisfied smile appearing at the corners of his mouth as he continued to sleep soundly.

"What is this?" Miller curiously reached out to touch the crystal tube.

The moment he made contact, his entire body trembled violently. A strange flush appeared on his face, and his steps wobbled as if he were intoxicated, on the verge of collapsing.

Seeing this, Hoffa quickly pulled him away from the IV bottle. It took a while before Miller snapped out of his unnatural tremors. He clenched his fists, glaring at the mysterious crystal tube with anger in his eyes.

"Damn it!" Miller pushed Hoffa away, exclaiming in frustration, "What the hell are these people doing here?!"

Hearing this, Hoffa also reached out and touched the crystal tube. The instant he made contact, the scenery before him transformed entirely. He found himself standing in front of a colossal red palace. Within the palace, crimson petals danced in the air, and graceful figures could be seen everywhere. These women carried shimmering golden bottles on their shoulders, pouring fragrant liquor into a vast pool on the ground.

Suddenly, a deafening roar erupted from the sky. Hoffa looked up just in time to see a massive dragon shattering the palace roof. Atop the dragon sat a young emperor, wearing a golden crown. Around him were seductive succubi with long tails and captivating faces, their lips exploring every inch of the emperor's skin.

The emperor laughed wildly as he rode the dragon, diving headfirst into the pool of liquor before soaring out again, still laughing maniacally. He wielded a massive curved blade, slaughtering indiscriminately throughout the palace. In mere moments, most of the palace maids were slain, their blood splattering everywhere.

The sheer madness of the scene left Hoffa in shock. He bolted, fleeing from the palace at full speed. Yet, along the way, he encountered landscapes of utter insanity: towering trees made of gold and silver, bearing fruit in the form of naked men and women; rivers flowing with diamonds; mountains of food constantly being consumed by giant, ever-eating beings.

But the most disturbing sight of all was the ground itself. As Hoffa ran, the terrain twisted into obscene shapes, almost as if he were stepping on living creatures. Men and women lay sprawled across the land, simultaneously enjoying and becoming a part of it.

The nightmare-like vision nearly drove Hoffa insane. Clutching his head, he let out a silent scream. Then, from the blood-red sky, a bolt of pale lightning struck down. The figures around him—countless men and women—were instantly turned to ashes, scattered by the raging winds.

Amid the rolling thunder, a surprised voice called out, "Hoffa, why are you here?"

Hoffa looked up in shock. Amid the lightning and storm, a familiar pink-haired figure gazed at him curiously.

"Chloe!" Hoffa was stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm cleaning up, maintaining the spiritual dimensions of this world," Chloe replied.

"Cleaning up?" Hoffa was confused.

Chloe pouted and pointed toward the scorched land struck by lightning. White flames burned fiercely, and several men and women writhed in agony, clutching their heads as they aged rapidly.

"This is an unseen part of the world, but it has already been polluted by boiling desire," Chloe explained. "Only time can calm these rampant desires and restore balance. However…"

As she spoke, the flames consuming the aging figures gradually extinguished. They slumped back onto the ground, seemingly content to become a part of this distorted world.

Chloe frowned in frustration. "But… the providers of these desires are far more resilient than I expected. Time passes, yet the flames of this frenzied world burn even stronger. This isn't normal at all."

Hoffa suddenly recalled the replacement organs he had seen earlier, and a vague realization dawned upon him. However, this understanding remained unconfirmed for now.

Curiously, Chloe asked, "Hoffa, why are you here? I didn't invite you. Could it be that… you touched something you weren't supposed to?"

"What exactly is that thing?"

Hoffa thought about the Philosopher's Stone alchemy potion that Nicolas Flamel had once given him. When he used that potion, he had encountered Chloe. Now, after touching this peculiar crystal tube, he had once again met her. He didn't want to believe that Nicolas Flamel was also part of this sinister chain of events.

"Is it also a potion made from magic stones?"

Chloe shook her head. "There are many ways to reach the same destination. However, using different methods can lead to entirely different results. Hoffa, promise me, don't touch it. That thing is dangerous—extremely dangerous. You could say it's the most dangerous substance in the world."

Her words still echoed in his ears when, suddenly, someone yanked Hoffa back. He snapped out of his daze—Chloe, the twisted red sky, the blazing pale flames, and the ground covered with abalone and geoduck—all vanished without a trace.

Miller whispered by his ear, "Someone's coming!"

Hoffa was startled.

A synchronized rhythm of footsteps approached from the distance. A group of men and women in black suits strode across the pristine, neatly arranged floor tiles. They wore crisp suits, black sunglasses, and had weapons and ammunition strapped to their waists. Chewing gum in their mouths, they exuded the classic style of an American organization.

"What do we do? Should we hide?"

Miller whispered to Hoffa.

Hoffa recalled Chloe's words from earlier, as well as his own unproven suspicions. Slowly, he shook his head. Instead of hiding, he stood calmly beside the old man, remaining motionless.

Soon, the group of black-clad individuals spotted Hoffa and Miller standing still in the center of the hall. In perfect unison, they drew their weapons. After a brief signal to each other, they jogged toward Hoffa and then raised their guns at him.

"Step away from there!"

One of them shouted.

They motioned for Hoffa to move away from the old man.

Seeing so many people pointing their guns at Hoffa, Miller silently stepped in front of him. Hoffa immediately pulled him aside and casually stepped away from the old man's IV stand.

Like air rushing into a vacuum, the armed group swiftly took Hoffa's place, surrounding the old man and securing him.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?"

One of them aimed his gun at Hoffa and Miller, questioning them.

Hoffa glanced at the tense man and said indifferently, "We were sent by the Half-Blood King."

The wary man froze for a moment, then his expression shifted uneasily.

"So, you're envoys," he muttered, lowering his weapon. "What brings the envoy here?"

"To collect the fee," Hoffa replied.

The man was taken aback. "Didn't we already pay our dues for this year?"

Hoffa nearly burst into laughter. As expected, behind Sylby's madness, there was an invisible chain of interests. And now, a clue to that chain was right in front of him.

"Unfortunately," Hoffa said expressionlessly, "the Half-Blood King has decided to raise the price."

"A price increase? After all these years of stability, why now?"

"Why?" Hoffa spouted nonsense effortlessly. "Europe has been beaten into a bloody mess. We need money to rebuild."

"What kind of nonsense is this!?" The man roared in anger. "You came into my world just to tell me this unpleasant news?!"

My world.

Hoffa's mind stirred. He sensed something unusual.

Just as he was about to probe further, a woman behind the man stepped forward, stopping him from speaking any further.

She scrutinized Hoffa from head to toe before speaking coldly, "Matters like this can be handled with a simple phone call, can't they? There was no need for the envoy to come in person. Just tell me—how much is the price increase, and where do we complete the transaction?"

Hoffa recognized the sharpness in her tone. He knew that his makeshift deception might fool them momentarily, but once they realized the inconsistencies, things would turn difficult.

"The usual place. Ten percent increase."

He spoke lazily while subtly pulling Miller back with him.

"The usual place? A ten percent increase? You sure have the audacity."

The woman in black said coldly. "Money isn't an issue, of course. However, since the esteemed envoy is here, I have something to ask you."

"What is it?"

"During the last gathering, the Half-Blood King mentioned that at our next meeting, he would provide the Elders' Council with one milliliter of undiluted Blood of the World. Tell me, did you bring it?"

Blood of the World.

An unfamiliar term flooded Hoffa's mind, making him pause for a moment, unsure how to respond. But even that brief hesitation was enough for the woman in front of him to make a judgment.

"You don't know, do you? I knew it," she sneered. "An envoy wouldn't have barged in so quietly. And you wouldn't need to disguise yourself as a lowly medicine courier. How disgraceful for the King."

Her voice turned chilling.

"Kill them."

(End of chapter)

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