Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who kill their fathers!

"Officer Ryan."

Peter lifted the police tape and entered his cousin Louis's living room.

Outside, a crowd of curious neighbors had gathered, with several police cars parked nearby.

Peter approached Officer Ryan and asked, "What happened?"

"We received a report from Louis's neighbors. They heard terrible screams coming from here."

Officer Ryan pointed to a bloodstain in the living room and said, "By the time we arrived, both Louis and his wife were gone. All we found were bloodstains and signs of a struggle."

Peter frowned, taking in the scene around him. "So, it's possible something bad has happened to Louis and his wife."

"It's very possible. We'll need to examine the blood at the scene."

Ryan patted Peter on the shoulder. "But it's also possible they were kidnapped. Things might not be at their worst yet. We'll find them, dead or alive."

Peter nodded, lost in thought.

Clark had said he saw little Terry at Louis's house.

He had also gone to the burial site and confirmed that the soil had been disturbed.

Which means Vanessa's little Terry, buried at the resurrection grounds, had come back—just like the son in The Monkey's Paw who returned home after being resurrected.

Did the now-zombified little Terry kill Louis and his wife?

Peter had seen Bill's hunting dogs, vicious after turning into zombies.

But if little Terry did it, where are the bodies?

Even if he tore his parents into pieces, there should be some remains. It's impossible for there to be no trace left behind.

As he stared out at the gloomy sky, Peter couldn't shake the feeling of an expanding evil presence covering the area.

After a few more words with Officer Ryan, Peter left the scene.

Not long after Peter left, a figure stood at a distance, watching the Louis residence.

Father Norma, the priest who had officiated at Louis's son's funeral, had been silently observing everything from the crowd.

Only after the police left did he turn and walk away.

Driving his car, the frail priest coughed while slowing down.

Once the coughing subsided, he pulled over and took out some medication.

Suffering from lung cancer, his life was nearing its end, and he was relying on expensive drugs to extend it.

"I'm almost there."

After calming himself, he murmured to himself and restarted the car.

The car stopped in front of a dilapidated blue house.

The shutters were falling apart, and vines that had grown for over 20 or 30 years covered the walls, their tiny tendrils almost cracking the wall itself.

A gust of cold wind swept through, stirring the fallen leaves on the porch, causing the tangled wind chimes to make a chaotic clinking sound. Two gray cats, startled by the noise, jumped off the steps and fled behind the house.

Father Norma pushed the door open, tossed his car keys onto a table, and then headed to his study.

Locking the study door, he forcefully moved a bookshelf aside.

Behind it, an entrance to a basement was revealed.

Father Norma descended slowly down the steps.

The basement was dimly lit and reeked of decay. In the center stood an altar.

At the heart of the altar lay a thick, black book bound in human skin.

To cure his terminal illness, he had abandoned his faith in God and turned to the powers of darkness.

The black magic book before him was his last hope.

The book contained black magic which gave him the ability to command zombies.

Yes, he could control zombies.

After discovering, by accident, that corpses could "come back to life" and turn into zombies in the marshland outside town, he had shared the secret to the vulnerable.

There were indeed those who believed in resurrection and buried their dead there.

The result? The corpses became zombies, under his control.

"But it's not enough. I need to transform more."

His expression twisted as he stared at the black magic book.

The more dark creatures he controlled, the stronger he would become—and only then could he cure his illness.

"More people need to die!"

His sinister gaze landed on a calendar hanging on the wall.

A date on the calendar had been marked with a large red X.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

At Kent Farm, Jonathan asked Peter with concern.

"I'm fine, it's just that a lot has been happening lately."

In the living room, Peter stood by the window, watching the cows grazing peacefully in the fields.

Since returning to Kent Farm from Louis's house, his expression had been heavy.

"I heard about what happened at Louis's house. Tragedy always seems to strike them," Jonathan said, assuming Peter was mourning for his cousin Louis.

In reality, Peter didn't have deep feelings for his cousin's family.

But who could be behind this?

That suspicious priest?

He had already used his super-speed to search the priest's house but found nothing unusual.

Should he capture the man and interrogate him?

And after questioning him, eliminate him to keep his powers a secret?

"Jonathan, do you know anything about Father Norma from the church?"

Peter stopped his wild thoughts and asked about the priest.

"I don't know much, but I've heard he has a good reputation."

Jonathan thought for a moment and added, "He's been the host of the Harvest Festival for years. By the way, the festival is coming up soon. If you want to learn more about him, you could talk to him there."

The Harvest Festival that Jonathan referred to was an annual event in Smallville.

The festival dated back as far as the 17th century when Puritan settlers in Smallville organized celebrations to thank God for their harvest.

During the festival, people would wear traditional clothing and hold various events like the "Bread Grab" or "Apple Stand."

"The Harvest Festival?"

Hearing Jonathan mention the festival, Peter instinctively looked at his wristwatch, forgetting it wasn't an ordinary watch.

"Yes, Clark and Azu are really looking forward to it."

"They are," Peter said.

After returning home, Peter asked the two boys about their thoughts on the festival.

Both excitedly expressed their anticipation for it.

"Dad, what does 'Bread Grab' mean?" Azu asked curiously. "Does it mean people are fighting over a loaf of bread?"

"Yes, young people throw a loaf of bread into the air, and others try their best to grab it."

Clark blinked with curiosity. "And what about the 'Apple Stand'?"

Peter ruffled his hair. "'Apple Stand' is when people sell apples, which are often made into applesauce or apple pies. Are you interested?"

"Yes, Godfather!"

Clark seemed particularly interested in the Apple Stand. He was already thinking about how to get his godfather to teach him how to make an apple pie.