Unlike the crude houses scattered throughout the slums, there were also countless mansions belonging to the wealthy.
Mr. Besson was a very ordinary member of the rich and powerful circle. However, he had many friends—in the past, Mr. Besson often held pool parties at his own home.
Because he spent money like water, Mr. Besson's circle of friends grew larger and larger. Tonight, his villa once again welcomed a gathering.
But this gathering was completely different from the swimsuit parties of the past. Every window in the villa's main hall had been shut, and the curtains had been drawn as well.
They had not turned on the lights, but everyone held a three-pronged candlestick in their hands. Under the candlelight, there was enough illumination.
Including Mr. Besson, there were eleven participants in total. They wore black robes, and their attached hoods concealed their faces.
They stood in a circle, seemingly conducting some mysterious ritual.
"What now?" someone in the crowd asked doubtfully.
"Well..." After hesitating for a long while, the gathering's organizer, Mr. Besson, finally frowned and said, "Perhaps we should wait a little longer."
"Forget it." A woman spoke impatiently, then flipped back her hood and quickly removed her black robe.
Of course, beneath the black robe, the woman was wearing a rather sexy spaghetti-strap dress. She complained dejectedly, "It's so hot, and we don't even have the air conditioning on. Then we have to wear such thick robes. I don't want to torture myself like this anymore."
Mr. Besson also removed his hood and hurriedly said, "Only this can allow the omniscient and omnipotent Bucky God to sense our devotion."
The woman said helplessly, "Dear Besson, haven't we already tried almost every method we could think of? Are you planning to hold some evil ritual like those cults