Fifty Pigs

Perhaps it was just her imagination, Hope felt she could smell blood in the air.

It emanated from the Transparent Monster.

Hope lay in bed for several minutes before finally remembering what she was supposed to do.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" Hope asked.

The only one in this room who could answer his question was, of course, the Transparent Monster.

The water stain thickened, turning into a small red puddle. It swayed a few times, seemingly unsure how to respond, before quickly returning to calm.

"Pick up the cup," Hope said.

The water stains that had been lurking in the corner rose up, and the blood in the water column looked somewhat pink because it was so faint.

It wrapped around the glass and lifted it up.

"Did you eat anyone?" Hope asked. "If you did, put the cup back on the table; if not, put the cup on the floor."

Hope received no response; the tentacles wrapped around the cup remained motionless, suspended in mid-air.

"Do you live next door to me?" Hope changed the subject. "If so, put the cup back on the table; if not, put it on the floor."

There has still been no response.

"Put the glass back," Hope said.

The cup was smoothly placed back in its original position; the precise adjustment of the tentacle prevented it from rolling to the ground.

Able to execute commands but unable to answer questions— Hope gained a preliminary understanding of the Transparent Monster's intelligence.

It feels like a trained animal.

Act on instinct when there are no commands.

The inability to view the Transparent Monster's attributes might be due to this reason—all the attributes Hope has seen so far have come from intelligent beings—which means the Transparent Monster's intelligence is even lower than that of the Great Night Hawk.

However, at the same time, the Transparent Monster's intelligence is sufficient to make it an obstacle to "Uncertainty"—

Phew, perhaps intelligence isn't the deciding factor; maybe there are other reasons that Hope didn't consider.

Hope pounded on the door, making the lock rattle loudly with each impact.

Transparent tentacles instantly spread out, and pink liquid expanded into a net, enveloping Hope within it. The liquid at the edges was menacing, trying to grab Hope's body.

Hope didn't want to touch them, so she waved them away and ordered them to back off.

"Get out!" he said.

He pressed his face against the doorway and shouted, "Wilbur!"

The Whateley House ' house wasn't small, but most of it had poorly soundproofed wooden walls, so Hope was confident his voice could travel throughout the house.

If Wilbur were still in the house, he would come running in anger after hearing the noise.

Sure enough, a dozen seconds later, the sound of climbing stairs could be heard.

It was just a little quieter and softer than Hope had expected.

It was also slower; the people who came weren't in a hurry.

The person who Door Opening wasn't Wilbur, but Lavinia.

She looked at Hope, puzzled. "You want to find Wilbur?"

"Right."

"But he's already gone."

"Gone?" Hope asked in surprise. "What time is it now?"

"It's almost eight o'clock," Lavinia replied. "Wilbur left at six, Robert came to pick him up."

"Robert, which Robert?"

Robert Miller.

"But he's not already—" Hope looked at the Transparent Monster to the side.

"Yes, there are two Robert Millers," Lavinia said, pausing for a few seconds as if trying to find the right words. "This is the green-haired Robert, and that's the blond one. The green-haired one is the blond's son. The blond one died, so the green-haired one took over."

The new Robert has taken over the old Robert's mission—regardless of their actual cooperation with the the Whateley family, their collaboration continues— Hope recalled the car that drove to the Whateley House the night the Old Whateley was critically ill—

Would a father really allow his son to share the same name as him?

"Where did they go?" Hope asked.

Lavinia shook her head.

Wilbur obviously didn't tell him.

Hope pointed at the Transparent Monster: "What... what's going on with it? Why has it turned red?"

"Robert brought it food," Lavinia replied.

food----

Although it was already clear what those foods were referring to, Hope still asked one last question:

Is it a person?

Lavinia nodded.

Is it... a living person?

Lavinia nodded again.

Her expression remained unchanged throughout; she tilted her head, seemingly looking at something absentmindedly, completely indifferent to the fifty people.

She is a cult member.

Hope was silent for a few seconds.

He then asked, "Robert — Robert Miller—how did he manage to send so many people?"

"Use a truck," Lavinia replied. "Just one truck will do; all the people are in the cargo bed."

Everyone in the carriage was completely still—no, it was impossible for it to be quiet.

Ah, they've been drugged! They're fast asleep!

Wilbur and Robert carried them into the house and fed them into the Transparent Monster Transparent Monster's mouth, which then swallowed them whole.

No, they don't even need to go to that trouble.

Wilbur only needs to release the Transparent Monster for a short period of time.

It will split off a section of its body, climb into the carriage, and wrap around those sleeping people—like wrapping around a glass—it's just a drowning, they may wake up, but the discomfort will soon subside—and those people will become part of the water.

Hope was sleeping at that time.

It's like sleeping in the staff dormitory of a slaughterhouse.

To the Transparent Monster, fifty pigs and fifty people are probably no different—or the only difference is ordinary pork versus premium beef.

Hope stopped herself from thinking about it any further.

He hadn't seen them, which made him feel a little less bad.

"No, what I want to ask is—" Hope said, "Where did Robert get these fifty men?"

Hope didn't like the statement he made.

"To obtain" is generally used when referring to a specific item.

However, one cannot use the word "gain" when referring to another person.

Humans cannot acquire other humans.

He simply couldn't think of a better way to put it at the moment.

"I don't know," Lavinia said, tired of standing, so she asked Hope to move aside and sat on Hope's bed.

She suddenly remembered something. "Oh, maybe they're homeless. Robert said they're everywhere, and nobody cares about them."

Homeless people ---- Fifty homeless people ----

Damn it!

Hope bit his nail again. "Who exactly is this Robert? Even if they were homeless people, the sudden disappearance of fifty of them would attract the government's attention, wouldn't it?"

Lavinia probably had no idea how Robert found so many homeless people, and she was clearly not interested in it.

But she seemed to have some thoughts on another issue with Hope.

"It's Carl Miller," she said. "Carl Miller has been working with us for a long time."

Carl Miller, a two-time recipient of the "Mr. Distinguished of the New Federation" award, was the inventor of the light bulb, the founder of Universal Electric Power Company, and a renowned capitalist.

It really was him.