Chapter 83: Even If You Die, Won't These Still Be Mine?
Solomon collapsed to the ground, his body trembling uncontrollably, his skin covered in burn marks from the Holy Light, like rotted wood seared by a branding iron, emitting wisps of black smoke.
All his leverage, the family trump card he'd been proud of for three hundred years, was as fragile as wet tissue before this man's impossibly divine power, without even room to struggle.
"No...don't come any closer..."
Solomon scrambled backward on all fours, his ass scraping on the rough concrete, tearing his slacks and leaving his flesh bloody and raw, but he felt no pain.
All his senses were completely overwhelmed by the terror brought by the man who seemed like an avenging angel.
He watched Edward approach step by step, the unhurried sound of his footsteps like hammers pounding on his heart with each beat, almost suffocating him.
"Devil...you're the devil!" he shrieked, his voice distorted by extreme fear, filled with a desperate sob.
Edward said nothing, merely gazed at him with calm eyes.
This calmness made Solomon feel more broken than any angry roar.
He understood that in this man's eyes, everything he'd been proud of had been nothing more than an insignificant joke from beginning to end.
Beg for mercy? Threaten?
These thoughts flashed through Solomon's mind, then were immediately dismissed.
This guy could Purify literal demons from Hell—why would he give a damn about a mortal's wailing?
In his despair, survival instinct overrode everything.
A trace of final cunning flashed in Solomon Goode's eyes.
He suddenly stopped retreating, and instead, with an almost groveling posture, struggled to get up, but his legs gave out and he fell again.
"Wait! Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"
He cried out incoherently, frantically fumbling around his body, and finally pulled out a bloodstained keyring and an expensive leather wallet from his jacket pocket.
"Money! I have tons of money! If you spare me, all of this is yours!"
"And women! What kind of women do you like? Actresses? Models? Trust fund princesses? Just name it, I guarantee within three days they'll be gift-wrapped in your bed!"
Solomon, as if grasping at a last straw, held up the items in his hands, desperately trying to demonstrate his worth to Edward.
"Power! You want power? Sunnyvale is my playground! With just a word from me, all the city's resources are at your disposal! I can be your most loyal dog! Whoever you want me to bite, I'll bite!"
His voice was full of temptation, attempting to sway the heart of this "angel" before him with the most supreme desires of the mortal world.
Deena, Sam, and Josh, watching this scene from a distance, were filled with disgust and contempt.
This man, who moments ago was so arrogant and regarded human lives as worthless, now looked like a stray dog begging for scraps, making a complete fool of himself.
Edward stopped, his gaze sweeping over the cash and credit cards, finally resting on Solomon's face, which was etched with desperate hope and fear.
Solomon's heart leaped into his throat.
He saw that Edward's expression seemed to soften slightly, and a flicker of hope ignited in his chest.
Yes! No one can refuse this kind of temptation! Even angels need mortal followers and wealth!
However, Edward's next words, like an ice pick from the depths of Hell, shattered that pathetic flicker of hope.
"When you're dead," Edward's voice was soft, yet it clearly echoed through the entire mall, "won't all of this still be mine?"
One sentence.
A simple, straightforward sentence.
Solomon Goode's expression completely froze.
Hope, flattery, desperation...all emotions faded in that instant, leaving only deathly stillness and blankness, as if plunged into an ice bath.
Solomon's bewildered face instantly became incredibly twisted, and he let out an inhuman roar, his eyes bursting with the madness of taking everyone down with him.
"If you won't let me live! Then we'll ALL die together!"
He suddenly reached behind his back at a strange angle!
There, hidden was his last and most vicious trump card!
A dagger forged from hellish black iron and infused with hundreds of tortured souls!
This was the "token" granted by the demon when the first Solomon Goode made his pact.
It couldn't harm the demon's servants, but against living beings with life and soul, it possessed the cursed power of instant death!
As long as it merely grazed the skin, the victim's soul would instantly ignite and burn to ash in endless torment!
The moment the dagger was drawn, an extremely cold black aura emanated from it, even dimming the Holy Light that still lingered around Edward.
"DIE!"
Solomon poured all his strength into this one thrust, his entire being like a rabid dog lunging for its prey, stabbing viciously toward Edward's heart!
He could already see the dagger piercing the bastard's body, could hear him wailing as his soul burned!
However, Edward's movements were faster.
BOOM!
A gunshot rang out, crisp and final.
The blessed bullet struck Solomon directly between the eyes.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but ultimately only a wet, gurgling "ghk...ghk..." escaped.
Then, his body fell straight backward.
THUD.
A dull impact, and the dust settled.
Solomon Goode, the uncrowned king of Sunnyvale, the last patriarch of the Goode Family dynasty spanning over three hundred years, thus ended his sinful life.
With his death, the last trace of evil and cold aura in the entire mall completely dissipated.
It was as if invisible shackles had been completely shattered in that moment.
The curse that had shrouded Shadyside for over three hundred years vanished into thin air.
Edward turned and looked at Deena, Sam, and Josh, who were huddled together in the corner, already stunned speechless.
The three of them looked as if they'd just watched a surreal movie lasting several hours, their brains on the verge of crashing from receiving too much information beyond comprehension.
Monsters, demons, pacts, undead killers, Holy Light, Purification... all of this shattered the worldview they'd built over their entire lives.
Edward ignored their complex inner turmoil, simply asking calmly:
"So, where's Solomon Goode's house?"
His voice roused the three from their stupor.
Josh instinctively replied, "It's...it's in Sunnyvale, on Oak Avenue, the biggest and most expensive mansion at the end of the street..."
"Lead the way."
Edward's tone brooked no argument.
"Uh? Oh... okay!"
The three didn't dare object, quickly scrambled to their feet, and stumbled out of the mall.
The group walked out of the mall filled with death and terror.
Outside, the moon was bright and the stars were clear.
The oppressive and suffocating feeling in the air had completely vanished, replaced by an unprecedented freshness and tranquility.
The nightmare that had plagued Shadyside for centuries was over.
Deena and the others got into their beat-up pickup truck, while Edward was already straddling Fenrir.
VROOOOM—!
The engine let out a deep roar, like a steel beast about to break free from its cage.
Under the shocked gazes of Deena and the others, Jennifer slid onto the seat behind him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
"Lead the way."
Soon, they arrived at Oak Avenue.
The environment here was completely different from Shadyside.
Perfectly manicured lawns and luxury estates lined both sides of the road, and the air practically smelled of money.
And at the end of the avenue, a vast, colonial-style mansion appeared before their eyes.
The tall wrought-iron gate was tightly closed, bearing the Goode Family crest.
"This is it," Deena stopped the truck, her voice a little hoarse.
Edward's motorcycle also stopped at the manor gate.
He dismounted and looked back at the three in the pickup.
"You can go now."
The three exchanged glances, and ultimately chose to obey.
They knew very well that what came next was beyond their pay grade.
"Thank you..." Deena looked at Edward's back and said sincerely, "Thank you for everything you've done for Shadyside."
Edward didn't turn around, simply waved his hand casually.
The pickup truck turned around, slowly driving away with the exhaustion of survivors and uncertainty about the future.
At the manor gate, only Edward and Jennifer remained.
Edward walked to the tightly closed iron gate, extended his hand, and gently pushed.
The massive iron gate, forged from steel and weighing several tons, swung open silently under his hand, as if made of cardboard.
A scent mixed with luxury and decay wafted from within the manor.
Edward and Jennifer exchanged glances and walked side by side into this mansion that held all the secrets of the Goode Family.
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