95. Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

Gru Stone had confessed that he kept his kidnapping activities strictly confidential from his family. Since he usually spent most of his time out and about, returning to the manor only once every ten days or a fortnight, a short disappearance of three or four days would not raise any eyebrows.

After cleaning up the house, Dean returned home to wait for the three-day cooldown of his shapeshifting ability to expire. During the interim, he paid a visit to Tribeca.

Under the dim, amber light of the old living room, Dean shoveled a spoonful of stewed rice into his mouth, his gaze shifting to the kind-faced old man across the table.

"What do these people call their own group?"

"They have all sorts of names; there is no unified title. Hunters, gourmets..."

"And do they usually act alone, or in pairs?"

"Truth be told, because the identity of a 'hunter' is incompatible with the world, and they are rare compared to normal humans, their sense of inner loneliness far exceeds that of a common person." Tribeca sipped his vegetable soup and wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth. "They yearn for companions, to be recognized and understood, so a considerable number of them travel with partners."

"This bond of hunting together is, in some ways, more unbreakable than a marriage."

Dean felt a pang of relief that Gru Stone was a lone wolf.

"When they eat, do they prefer to eat raw, or do they cook it first?"

"Some prefer to keep the original flavor; their eating habits are similar to those of bloodthirsty werewolves—both cruel and visceral."

"But others have a preference for complex textures. Before eating, they perform a culinary process comparable to a Michelin-starred chef: carefully slicing the food, steaming, boiling, or frying it... and seasoning it with various spices. Once the cooking is finished, you wouldn't even be able to recognize the original ingredient by looking at it."

"Uh, how do you know so much about this? It sounds like you've experienced it firsthand." Dean, his mouth glistening with oil, gave a start, dropping the piece of pickled pork from his chopsticks back into the bowl.

"I once encountered the leader of a hunter pack, so I know a bit more than most." A flash of memory crossed Tribeca's eyes as he added another spoonful of glistening rice to Dean's bowl.

Dean winced and pushed the bowl away slightly, continuing, "I have one more question. Do the descendants of hunters inherit their bloodthirsty instincts?"

"Yes, the polluted bloodline persists." Tribeca shook his head, his eyes behind his bifocals glimmering with wisdom. "You’ve been obsessed with this species all day. Did you encounter a hunter in Las Vegas?"

"Hmm... it mistook me for prey."

"Then it was truly unlucky..." Tribeca looked sympathetic, bowing his head to observe a three-second moment of silence for the creature, before humorously asking, "Was the corpse still intact?"

"It tried to finish me off. In retaliation, I ate a portion of it. The taste was far inferior to your bean and pork rice." Seeing the old man turn pale, Dean laughed, "You lose this round."

"Bad boy, you nearly scared me into a heart attack!" The old man clutched his chest and glared at Dean, then adjusted his glasses. "And then? What did you discover from that guy?"

"A distinguished family background, many siblings, and..." Dean paused, gripping his spoon tightly, "he claimed his family has always worshipped a non-human entity—their ancestor, a god, a wanderer from their homeland. Have you ever heard of such claims?"

Upon hearing this, deep wrinkles etched across Tribeca's face, and a spark of excitement danced in his murky eyes.

"An ancestor? Hmm... let me think. All hunters can survive on ordinary food, yet they must maintain a regular special diet to satisfy their morbid cravings."

"It is indeed possible they come from the same source, possess the same ancestor, and are influenced by the same genes and bloodline."

Tribeca’s expression turned solemn.

"If you intend to pry into that so-called ancestor, be extremely careful. It must possess all the talents of a hunter: keen sense of smell, superhuman physique, immense strength... and other unknown abilities."

Tribeca took his hand and said with concern, "You are still young. If it is not necessary, there is no need to take radical risks. I am still waiting for you to bring back more stories."

"I know. I have a plan in mind, and I will definitely be fully prepared."

...

After finishing his conversation with Tribeca, Dean began to frantically memorize the records on the two sheets of paper.

To perfectly impersonate the rich kid Gru Stone, he had to firmly commit his lifestyle, habits, and every word and action to memory.

Dean was like a highly talented novice actor, practicing diligently, striving to mimic Gru Stone’s expressions and tone of voice—the slightly arrogant tilt of the chin, the stiff posture, and the cold, condescending tone.

Thanks to his heightened agility and the mental sharpness brought by his high spirit stat, the learning process went very smoothly.

...

Time flew by.

Three days later, on a sunny morning.

In the bathroom of 121 Palm Tree Street.

Amidst the sound of cracking bones and suppressed groans of pain, the young man’s naked body began to shrink and expand alarmingly, as if it were a balloon. Countless bumps appeared on the surface of his skin, as if a group of mice were scurrying madly beneath it.

Sweat, skin flakes, and hair fell away in clumps, littering the floor.

After two minutes of extreme agony, he collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat.

...

After a short rest, he flushed the debris down the drain.

He looked into the mirror.

Blond hair, blue eyes, a slim but athletic frame; his abs, pecs, and biceps were clearly defined without looking bloated or oversized. His physique was as perfect as a marble sculpture.

If one ignored the morbid appetite, a hunter’s charming appearance, long lifespan, healthy physique, and special sense of smell would surely make them a favorite of God.

...

"From now on, I am a member of the Stone family." Dean returned to the bedroom and pulled a navy blue, pinstriped peak-lapel suit from the closet. His eyes were bright, and he grinned, showing a row of neat white teeth. His entire demeanor became flamboyant and high-profile, his sharpness fully exposed.

He tucked his holster under his arm and put his wallet in his pocket.

He had originally wanted to bring more powerful firepower like an AR-15 or a shotgun, and perhaps wear a bulletproof vest, but those weapons were too conspicuous. Wearing them would make his frame look a size larger, and if he brought them home, even a blind man would know something was wrong.

Dean decided to play it by ear; if the situation went south, he would retreat first and find another opportunity to strike!

...

Disguise complete.

Dean drove the red Ferrari from the private parking lot back to the manor in the north of the city.

"Good morning, Mr. Gru." The security guard in the gatehouse greeted him warmly and opened the iron gate.

Dean ignored him. The Ferrari drove along the rolling hills and the small path lined with rows of palm trees, entering the manor.

The terrain gradually leveled out.

The palm trees gave way to dense ornamental plants, and several gardeners pushed lawnmowers, carrying shears and watering cans among them.

Under such meticulous care, even as winter approached, the flowers and plants remained lush and vibrant.

...

In the center of the path stood a fountain with a female statue, water splashing everywhere. Sunlight, passing through the crystalline spray, refracted into a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors, making one's mood feel just as colorful.

The Ferrari continued forward, and Dean saw the core of the manor: a massive, castle-like structure. The mottled exterior walls were covered in withered vines, and the main entrance was as grand as a church door, inlaid with exquisite and complex patterns. He could see pointed red domes and stained-glass windows.

It was completely different from the modern villas Dean had seen; it was weathered, with at least several decades of history.

...

Dean parked the car and entered.

A grand, saffron-colored carpet covered the stairs leading to the second floor, while the four walls were a deep navy blue. The ceiling was so high that it was difficult to discern the details of the dome's mural.

However, all the windows around this grand hall were tightly shut, letting in not a single ray of sunlight, making the space feel gloomy and eerie.

Dean was just about to sneak around and look for the so-called "God" when a languid voice called out to him.

"My dear 'little sister,' where have you been wandering these past few days?" A young man in silk pajamas with a thick beard walked down the stairs, opening his arms to give him an affectionate hug.

Dean scanned him; even the thick beard couldn't hide the deep eyes, high bridge of the nose, and perfect facial structure of this guy. He was a handsome man, not at all inferior to Gru.

It was Peron, Gru's second brother.

According to the information Dean had gathered, the two were always bickering at home.

He pushed the man away with an impatient look.

The man didn't mind, grinning with a kind of roguish charm.

"Last time I asked you to go to Los Angeles for the yacht party to clear your head, you weren't interested. You missed out on some once-in-a-decade goods."

"I swear, I will never forget that beauty for the rest of my life." As he spoke, the man wiped his mouth, a flash of nostalgia in his eyes.

"Get lost. Don't try to tarnish my taste with your crude behavior!" Dean waved his hand dismissively. "A beast like you will never understand the charm of culinary art."

"A little girl like you will never learn how to eat like a man." Peron retorted, then suddenly twitched his nose, leaning in close to Dean’s chest to sniff.

"Where are Hudson and Christine?" Dean’s face stiffened as he shoved the man's head away, his heart pounding. Could this guy have smelled something?

"The usual—begging our cold-hearted parents in the dining room to let us see the legendary ancestor, the God! Wait, something is wrong with you." Peron suddenly propped his chin on his hand, looking him up and down with surprise. "It's only been a few days; why have you become so strong? Oh, this melodious heartbeat, oh, this charming scent... are you still part of the Stone family?"

He licked his lips, a flash of doubt in his eyes.

Dean’s expression stiffened imperceptibly.

He had forgotten one point: after shapeshifting, his physical attributes remained close to his original body. His physique was much stronger than the former Gru Stone, and naturally, his scent was slightly different.

Dean’s thoughts raced, and he came up with a good excuse.

"You think only you have found good goods?" Dean laughed proudly. "The prey I found was of a much higher grade, as strong as a lion. I absorbed a bit of its power."

"You selfish idiot, you don't share good stuff with your siblings?" Peron shoved Dean’s chest hard, but the latter felt relieved, knowing he had passed this hurdle. He immediately retorted calmly, "What do you know? After taking that guy down, my physical stats are no longer inferior to yours. I should be qualified to see the 'ancestor' now!"

"Then come on, let's see what Leyton and Shannon think of your progress."

Peron hooked his arm around Dean’s shoulder and strolled through the hall toward the dining room on the left. During the walk, his nose kept twitching, like a wild dog that had caught the scent of a bone.

Dean activated his "God's Eye" view to check his surroundings.

In such a huge villa, he hadn't encountered a single servant on the way, and all the windows were sealed shut.

...

In the dining room.

Beneath a magnificent, water-lily-shaped crystal chandelier, four people were already arguing fiercely around a square table covered with a red tablecloth.

All of them were blond, blue-eyed, handsome men and beautiful women.

For a moment, Dean felt as if he had accidentally stumbled onto the set of a teen drama.

...

"Peron, Gru... my babies, let Mommy look at you." A noblewoman in a pale yellow tube-top dress, whose skin radiated the delicate luster of white jade, hugged them both warmly and kissed their cheeks.

In her emerald-gem-like eyes, the intense doting was as suffocating as honey.

Dean suppressed his strong discomfort.

"Dear family, didn't you smell that this kid is different?" Peron said, looking around with a gloating smile.

The people at the table exchanged glances and smiled.

"I could smell that special scent from across the street." The blond cowgirl stood up, walked to Dean, and opened her arms, her joy evident. "Ancestors be praised, my dear brother has finally matured; you've become even stronger than your sister."

"Don't be discouraged, Christine. I'll protect you from now on. By the way, you look charming today."

Dean smiled and hugged her, kissing her cheek and earring, feeling the warmth of her embrace.

Underneath her denim jacket, this sister wore a white silk shirt that left her curvaceous figure fully visible. She wore no makeup, and her features held a wild charm. If she went to a beauty pageant in Las Vegas, she might just take the crown.

"Tell us, what miracle drug did you take? It’s only been a few days, and you've had such a transformation, almost like a rebirth." Another brother, Hudson, had deep features and a slightly long nose; his eyes were as sharp as a bird of prey.

Beside him, the handsome older man in a loose robe, the master of the house, Leyton Stone, looked on with gratification and encouragement.

Dean clearly felt that this family's care and love for him were genuine, without a hint of hypocrisy or pretense.

It was as warm as spring.

This was a rare, harmonious, and loving family in high society.

Siblings were friendly, the mother was kind, and the children were filial.

Normal people would never guess their terrifying true identity.

"Do you remember the guy who caught me at the mall a few days ago?" Dean sat at the corner of the table and smiled with some self-satisfaction.

"The student from Nevada State High, the hero of the Lake Mead incident?" Shannon chimed in, intense interest sparkling in her emerald eyes.

"He wasn't just some ordinary high school student. His physique was extraordinary, and his mind was sharp." Dean tapped the table and said with lingering fear, "After I got out of the LVPD, I carefully set a trap and managed to catch him. But the process was incredibly dangerous; the two partners I hired died at his hands, and I almost returned to the ancestors' embrace prematurely."

"Where are you hurt, baby?" Shannon pulled Dean’s arm into her embrace, eagerly checking him over.

"I said 'almost.' I'm fine, aren't I? In the end, I won. I merged with him, and it took me a few days to fully adapt." Dean quietly pulled his hand from her plump embrace and looked around at his "family" with smug triumph.

His internal feeling, however, was quite bizarre.

He was impersonating a hunter, claiming to have finished himself off.

Haha, that was fucking exciting.

"Waste!" Peron threw a mock punch, a hint of complaint and regret in his eyes hidden behind the thick beard. "After such a complex cooking process, most of the nutrition is lost. If you had eaten in a more natural way, your improvement would have been even greater!"

"Be gentle with your brother, you idiot!" Christine hooked her arm around Dean’s neck, her beautiful eyes blinking. "My poor Gru, have you not yet shaken off the shadow of that accident with little Reggie?"

"It wasn't your fault, and besides, little Reggie is with you forever now."

"You should live on, stronger, for his sake as well."

Dean’s gaze sharpened.

Little Reggie was the brother who had been killed by a rampaging Gru.

It seemed now that Gru Stone’s aversion to raw food was precisely because of this accident.

...

"Alright, everyone, let bygones be bygones; we should look forward." Hudson shook his head, his gaze sweeping over their parents. "Now, the weakest member of our family has completed a great hunt and achieved gratifying growth. My dear Leyton and Shannon, could you let us young ones see the legendary ancestor?"

"I think it’s time!"

In an instant, four pairs of tense eyes locked onto Leyton’s calm, smiling face at the head of the table. His low, dignified voice resonated.

"Children, only a patient hunter can capture the most precious prey."

"Leyton, this time, for the sake of the 'hunt,' I almost died. Do you know what I was thinking about at the most dangerous moment?" Dean interrupted, standing up abruptly, hands braced on the table, looking recklessly into his father’s dignified eyes. "I wasn't willing to die without even seeing our God once. If I went to hell like that, my soul would never find peace."

"Mind your tone, show respect to your father!" The usually kind mother suddenly yelled at Dean, losing her composure. "And remember, don't mention hell, and don't mention heaven; our souls do not belong there!"

They don't belong to hell or heaven?

Dean’s heart skipped a beat. Could this hunter family have a belief system unlike any other?

Leyton looked around at his children, feeling their determination, and gave a helpless smile.

"If I continue to stand in your way, you will likely come to hate me as a father, treating my good intentions as mere stalling."

"Then I will grant your wish this time. This afternoon, I will take you to pay homage to the 'Ancestor' and the 'God'."

"Are you serious?" Peron stood up excitedly, his voice trembling.

"What kind of shit are you saying!" Hudson scolded his brother. "Father never lies to the family!"

Christine, even more excited, hugged Dean’s neck, her chest bouncing, looking like a lively, beautiful, and innocent little girl who had just received her favorite gift.

...

"Before meeting the great God, to show respect, we must be in our most perfect state." Leyton looked at Peron and Hudson, who nodded and left the dining room. "Since it’s nearly lunchtime, let’s fill our stomachs first."

Dean swallowed, an ominous premonition washing over him.

He couldn't hear a word of his sister’s chattering beside him.

The premonition quickly became reality.

The two brothers brought a sheep into the dining room and placed it on the rectangular table.

The five family members stared at it, their eyes turning red, their breathing rapid.

The previous friendliness, harmony, and warmth had vanished completely.

...

"Gru, my youngest child, I give you the first bite, the most vibrant life force, as a gift." Leyton suppressed his terrifying impulses and gave Dean an expectant smile, his finger pointing to the sheep's heart. "May you grow strong, and may your power be eternal."

Dean struggled to control his twitching cheeks and shook his head casually.

"I appreciate your kindness. But I cannot accept this simple and crude way of eating. Besides, I prefer to 'hunt' myself; the food obtained through my own efforts is the most delicious."

"Unnecessary stubbornness. When you see the 'God,' you will regret the countless delicacies you've missed out on in the past." Leyton sighed, revealing his teeth, and leaned down like a beast.

...

The poignant red stained the luxurious suits, pajamas, denim jackets, and long dresses.

It adorned noble faces that were handsome, beautiful, and crowned with blond hair and emerald-gem-like eyes.

This family of five was like angels lured into depravity by blood.

...

The pungent, hot scent, the unclean and terrifying sounds, and an atmosphere of intense assimilation left Dean deeply shocked, as if he had stepped into hell.

He could only tense his face, his hands clenched into fists until his knuckles turned pale.

The carotid artery on his neck bulged and then faded.

A fire burned in his chest.

"It’s not time to act yet."

He desperately tried to divert his attention.

"Leyton Stone, a real estate mogul who exploits employees at his company and leaves nothing behind at home..."

"This is a real capitalist!"

...

When it was all over.

The dining table was a mess, and the five filth-covered people chatted happily, elegantly wiping the residue from the corners of their mouths with napkins, satisfaction on their faces.

Their bestial nature faded, and they were human once again.

"Haha, my dear brother, do you regret missing out on the joy of sharing with the family?"

Peron turned and winked at Dean, his attitude intimate.

A flash of repression crossed Dean’s eyes, and he remained silent.

"Children, clean yourselves up," Leyton turned to his children with a gratified smile, "it’s time to meet our God!"