Just outside Fort Laramie is a huge estate with a local floor area of 80 acres, which when you add the attached valleys, streams, forests and meadows, to 8,000 acres!

That's almost the size of 10 White Rock Castles! The manor house is not yet fully built, but the Renaissance architecture can already be seen.

In the mist and rain, the buildings of the manor house were like a silent hill clustered together, and there was a railway between the mountains and forests in the distance, which was pre-built to transport timber and stone to facilitate the construction of the manor.

Note: A carriage, surrounded by knights, approached the manor quickly from the direction of Fort Laramie in the distance.

As they drew closer, a bell rang on the watchtower of the manor. As the carriage crossed the muddy grass to the smooth stone path, the gates of the manor opened at the same moment.

Servants in white shirts and black coats, led by the butler, streamed out and lined up neatly on both sides of the gate.

Orange lights lit up in the manor, and soon the whole manor sparkled like a Christmas tree.

From the watchtower, the long and cheerful sound of bagpipes came out, announcing that the owner of this manor was coming!

The carriage carried the mud on its wheels and ran over the golden carpet until it reached the gate of the manor.

The silver-haired middle-aged butler stepped into the rain and bowed respectfully towards the carriage.

"Mr. Davis, welcome home!" Behind him, young girls as green as sprouts after a rain stoop, all bent down in unison, and said in a voice that was clearer and more cohesive than the children of the choir: "Welcome home!" A huge cyan umbrella was propped up at the door of the carriage.

From the curtain of the carriage stretched out a snow-white hand on the arm of the guard at the door, and then the head of a young man poked out of it.

What a beautiful young man! He had long, long, black hair that curled up in a curly forehead that almost covered his eyes.

His lips were thin and the bridge of his nose was high, just like the beauties in the newspapers. The most striking thing was his fair face, the orange light of the doorway fell on his face, and his cheeks were almost as white as if they were transparent.

"Charles, I heard my nightingales have finally learned to dance, haven't you?" The young man asked, stepping out of the carriage.

The arm he held on to him was so hard that it seemed to fly, and after he stepped out of the carriage, he landed on the thick carpet in front of the gate.

"Yes, Mr. Davis!" The butler replied with a smile. The young man's voice was a little weaker, and he didn't sound like a man, but there was no doubt that he was.

"That's great!" He laughed heartily and reached out to the side. The maid next to him took out the whip that had been prepared long ago and handed it to him, he shook it lightly twice, and walked towards the door with some impatience.

He noticed that there were mud spots on his shoes, and he rubbed them on the maid's trouser leg - and the maid naturally crouched down and used her upper body to carry the mud from his shoes.

The contrast between the snow-white peaks and his pitch-black leather boots made him laugh again.

The two maids standing in the doorway pulled the door open from the left and right, and the light inside the gate poured out like a long-standing flood, casting a slender shadow behind him.

"Smack!" The crunch of the whip was shut behind the door. …… This is Peter Davis' kingdom!

Ever since he arrived at Fort Laramie, everyone has treated him with respect, even the lion-like Lai Ang has been almost universally requires!

And that femme fatale-like Brown, in Peter Davis's opinion, the misunderstanding of him from the outside world is too great!

Lyon built such a estate for him, and Brown brought him hundreds of loyal servants, and Peter Davis felt that there could be no better man in the world.

His brother wrote several times urging him to hurry back to New York, but Peter Davis ignored them. New York is good, but where is it here!

In his kingdom, he is simply like God...... Like God, he could create man as he pleased, and bring back to life those who have fallen with a great flood. Like the god of war, he can domesticate lions, elephants, pythons, and tigers, and in his kingdom he is the supreme ruler, and all living beings, whether men or beasts, obey his commands; He has a large forest in which his nightingale choir can sing, dance, and exchange pleasures; He also had a long river in which his Black Warriors could fight, and the river was filled with the blood of crocodiles and pythons, and the Black Warriors fought each other again - much more interesting than gladiatorial battles in the gladiatorial arena!

The only fly in the ointment is that out of this manor, both Lai Ang and Brown told him not to make trouble!

But he'd tried it a few times, and even if it killed someone, it didn't seem to be a big deal. This restriction only aroused his curiosity even more, so much so that every time he saw blood and human fragments outside, his blood would boil and he would be restless.

He had to go back to his own kingdom and vent it hard before he could calm down! His butler, Charles, was loyal to him and found him a magic medicine that was said to come from the mysterious land of the East, which, when drunk, would keep him energized all night long!

This is also the reason why he gradually distanced himself from his old butler Armand and became more and more fond of the new butler Charles.

Who doesn't love a well-spoken, intelligent, and loyal subordinate? …… It was only 4 p.m. when Peter Davis returned to the estate, but the rainy weather caused the night to fall early.

On the brightly lit terrace, he was picking up a snow-white 'little nightingale' and throwing it towards the crocodile pond below the terrace.

The nightingale was struggling desperately, screaming—he was laughing, and a huge crocodile below was looking up in anticipation!

"Mr. Davis!" At this moment, the butler Charles walked over quickly.

"Haha, Charles! Did you bring me the magic medicine? Peter Davis asked. Charles approached him and whispered, "Someone claiming to be the messenger of the turtledove has sent two boxes outside the manor, saying that it is a gift for you, and I hope to hand it over to you personally!" ”

"Gifts?" Peter Davis put the 'little nightingale' down in his hand, and the little nightingale ran away screaming.

"I don't need any gifts, and I don't want to see him! I'm happy! Butler Charles hesitated a little, and stopped talking.

"What's wrong, Charles?" Peter Davis asked.

"Turtledove...... It's the great ...... of the Indians," Charles replied with a grimace.

"I don't care what a big guy he is! The three major horse thieves on the Great Plains: Griffin, Laocoon, and Hayer, which one did he fight? Can't beat it, right? Then let him put down the gift and get out of here! ”