Dark clouds in the evening obscured the sky over the entire city of Colmar.

The mournful cry of the night crow, in the continuous rain, resounded from time to time over the city.

A tall white man with a black cape, a high-necked robe, a large felt hat on his head, and a tuft or two of black hair peeking out of his ear, walked into the city on the border of Rokofield and Lewis.

The gloomy weather and raindrops made all the pedestrians on the road bow their heads and hurriedly walk on the road back to their homes.

As a result, they did not notice at all that the black-haired man who walked past them was spotless and rainless when he walked in the rain.

The wide streets were silent and hurried, and everyone had lost their old gossip in this damn weather.

But, as in all the cities of the United States of America at this time, no matter how bad the weather outside, there were always those who sought pleasure and wanted to have fun day and night.

When the black-haired man pushed open the thick wooden door of a civilian bar in the city, the familiar noise instantly appeared around him.

"Look at those nasty northerners, they want to add a cotton tax to us southerners!"

"Oh my God! These damn and greedy factory owners! ”

"yes, they don't know what's crazy!"

"Are those idiots in Washington thinking that those lowly slaves are coming to rob us of our jobs?"

······

In the southern states, the black slave farmers controlled the speech environment.

The typical scolding of the people of the southern states in the past few years, the pungent smell of tobacco in the hall, and the smell of inferior perfume on the waitress's body, spread wantonly in the bar.

Ignoring the hustle and bustle around him, the black-haired white man took off his large felt hat on top of his head, revealing a pair of eyes full of vicissitudes.

He walked over to the bar and threw out a few American bills in exchange for a small barrel of ale.

Then he picked up another glass, walked silently to the quietest corner of the bar, and sat down quietly.

"Rub!"

The match lit the old pipe in his hand, and he was alone in the corner of the bar with ale, spitting smoke.

Unlike most of the people in the bar, who were clapping the rhythm of the song and scolding the Yankees with a few hecklers, the black-haired man's appearance was too silent, but his tall, muscular body was particularly noticeable.

It even aroused the vigilance of some local gang spies in the bar.

However, before the spies could go to the test, a man with old clothes and bloodshot eyes had already stepped forward.

"Dear sir, I'm Howard Philip."

"A popular writer!"

Compared to those eyes full of doubt and scrutiny, this old-dressed fellow, looking at the tall, black-haired white man with a feverish gaze, almost like seeing a savior.

"Oh?"

"Look, you know who I am?"

The black-haired white man took a sip of ale and leaned lazily back in his chair with his pipe in his mouth.

"Yes, if I'm not mistaken."

"You're ······ Van Hae"

Before Howard finished speaking, the lazy-looking man in front of him suddenly seemed to be a different person, and the silver brilliance visible to the naked eye flashed in his eyes.

Then, Howard only felt like he was facing a tiger, no, an existence a thousand times more terrifying than a tiger, and his hairs rose suddenly.

"Which force are you from?"

"How do you know me?"

Everything around him was blurred, and only the image of the black-haired man in front of him was clear.

Moreover, his voice roared in Howard's ears like thunder, making Howard unconsciously answer directly.

"The Guroyin pattern on the large felt hat, the round cross badge with the high collar and the corner of the cape, and the wild lily motif at the base of the cape."

"In addition, you entered the bar from a rainy night, but you were very dry!"

Howard dared to say that he had never spoken as fast in his life as he did now.

"Sir, I have written a legendary story about you, The Right Hand of God."

"At that time, I specifically checked your clothing and appearance."

After doing it for a long time, it turned out to be a senior admirer of himself!

He had been in the United States of America for three years since he had awakened from the holy city of Vatican in the kingdom of Aubarosaldinia, and he had indeed seen many books and legendary biographies of the murder of the vampire Count Dracula in the secular world.

What "300 Years of Shocking", "The Legend of Van Helsing", "Once Upon a Time in the Glamorous Bloodline"······ During his journey to find the dark cavern, he had seen them all when he was bored.

In retrospect, those books boasted about themselves, and they were a little shy!

And about the book "The Right Hand of God" mentioned by Howard, Van Helsing is really impressed, because this book is what he has read, and among the books that describe his exploits, there are not too many magic changes, the most realistic and historical book.

The description of his appearance in that book is indeed the most commonly used costume when he hunted monsters, and it is also the set he wears now.

"Oh, it's you!"

Van Helsing's tone calmed down, leaned back, and half-reclined in his chair.

And Howard, who he was a year ago, also instantly felt that the "Tiger" in front of him had changed back into a person again, and everything around him had returned to normal.

The mental shock just now did not make him feel frightened.

Howard took a careful look around, and found that the people in the surrounding bars were still indulging in merriment, and even the spies of the local gangsters looked away from him, and a wave of surprise swelled up in his heart.

"Great Demon Hunter, I need your help!"

Thinking of the mystery and evil encountered by his friend, the "savior" in front of him is naturally as powerful as possible, Howard Philip couldn't wait to speak.

"Three years ago, a friend of mine wrote to me."

"Ever since he found a book from his dead grandfather's belongings, his body has grown stronger, but the serfs on his estate have inexplicably decreased······"

"And a month ago, when he wrote to me for the last time, he told me that one night, when he came to his senses, he looked at his black slave estate, not far outside Colmar, and found it full of eyeballs and carrion······

"Then, he was never heard from again."

"When I came here, I found that he was missing, and the manor he mentioned."

"All livestock are sick and dead, and water sources are polluted······

Van Helsing listened, and only felt that the place Howard was talking about was almost eighty percent similar to the "dark den" he was looking for.

What kind of eyeballs and carrion, animal husbandry disease and death, water pollution and other characteristics, and after the seal of the dark crypt began to break, the ecological aberration caused by the dark power that passed out is almost the same!

"Don't say so much, do you have any evidence?"

Thinking that his purpose of traveling to the New World might be accomplished, Van Helsing suddenly lost his original lazy appearance, and he sat up straight, stared into Howard's eyes, and interrupted his words.

"Yes, indeed!"

Howard, who was interrupted, was not angry, but paused in his tone and carefully looked around.

After discovering that everyone around him was still completely ignoring them, he took out a wooden box surrounded by gauze from his bosom more carefully.

"This is when my friend was three years ago, when most of the weirdness and evil hadn't happened."

"It was sent to me, and he found a part of his grandfather's book."

"It's just that I have already burned it with flames at the persuasion of a wandering priest a year ago!"

As he spoke, Howard slowly unwrapped the gauze on the box.

At this time, Van Helsing smelled that the gauze had been soaked in the "No. 7 Holy Water", a specialty of the new branch of the Holy Lord "Holy Lord Protestantism", after falling out with his old club Vatigaon Holy City 1,500 years ago.

It was a distinctive, onion-like, incomparably pure taste of holy power.

"Smack!" A bang.

The box was completely opened under Howard's operation.

A distorted to the extreme, the aura of the evil pole rose into the sky, making all the lights in the entire bar dim a level in an instant······

——————————

At the same time, Lin Miaoshan, who looks more mature and has a stronger mental will than three years ago, appears in the room of a local gang in Colmar City.

"Is that there?"

"That's right, Daoist."

Subordinate to the Foreign Affairs Department of the Taiping Society, a "white man" with soft facial features took out two completely different photos from a black-and-white photo printer on the table and handed them to Lin Miaoshan.

"Ever since the main controller behind the Rum Railway Group, the patriarch of the Brown family, has appeared on this estate once."

"That's what it became there!

In the first photo, although the black slaves working on the fields are naked, they can be seen that it is a fertile and thriving farm.

The second photo is completely different.

The farmland of the farm has been deformed into a land full of thick water that can make ordinary people's spirits sick, and the dense eyeballs are like tadpoles, swimming in the thick water of the earth.

And the black slaves who worked turned into a black-brown monster with only a single horn and a mouth, constantly fishing for eyeballs in the thick water, devouring ······