Chapter 154

Chapter 154

Night draped the Noah family's house like thick velvet. Evan lay in bed, the day's turmoil receding like a tide, fatigue dragging him down into sleep. But the moment his consciousness plunged into darkness, a jolt of strange clarity electrified his nerves—he immediately realized he was in a lucid dream.

The dream world unfolded in an absurd manner: Evan's feet were planted on a sky thick with dark clouds, cold, slippery cloud wisps churned between his toes as if they might shatter into raindrops at any moment. Above his head, a volcano spewing molten lava hung inverted in the void. Dark red magma cascaded down like silk ribbons, forming eerie firefalls in the inverted gravity field. The pungent smell of sulfur mixed with the damp chill of the clouds, causing his throat to constrict.

An ordinary person, plunged into such an upside-down, perilous illusion, would have been seized by terror. But Evan merely frowned slightly, forcing himself to stay calm. He tried wiggling his toes; the clouds beneath his feet actually dented like solid ground, leaving footprints. Reaching out to touch the volcanic rock wall above, the rough texture and searing heat felt incredibly real. He could even feel the vibrations from the flowing lava.

"This dream... can simulate such clear sensations?" Evan murmured to himself, his voice echoing strangely in the inverted space. He tentatively took a step forward, each step crushing a few wisps of cloud. The volcano overhead seemed to pivot slowly with his movement, like a lurking beast silently watching the intruder.

Suddenly, a silvery-grey bolt of lightning tore through the clouds beneath his feet, splitting a crack in the dark "sky." Through the crack, Evan glimpsed the world below (or above?)—a twisted forest where tree roots grew skyward, their branches and leaves buried in the ground. Several giant birds with wings hung upside down from the branches, pecking at non-existent fruit with sharp beaks.

The distorted forest glimpsed through the crack abruptly expanded, swallowing the inverted heavens and earth like ink dripping into clear water. The clouds beneath Evan's feet instantly turned into viscous tar, clinging stubbornly to his ankles and dragging him toward the depths of the fissure. In that forest, the upside-down giant birds suddenly beat their wings; the sharp sound of their wings slicing the air pierced him like arrows. They dove down, their beaks glinting coldly, aiming straight for Evan's eyes!

"Buzz—"

A sharp pain shot through Evan's head, as if his skull were about to be split open by the birds' beaks. He struggled desperately but found his body had become unbearably heavy; every attempt to lift his arms felt like moving a thousand-pound boulder. The volcano above erupted violently, cascading scalding lava down like a waterfall, scorching his back until the skin blistered and cracked. Thick sulfurous smoke choked him, and his consciousness began to blur.

"No... can't fall asleep..." Evan gritted his teeth until they nearly shattered, the taste of blood spreading in his mouth. He remembered Pastor Campbell's warning: "The mental attacks of Supernaturals are the most vicious. If you submit to death in the dream, you will truly die in reality!"

At that moment, the inverted volcano suddenly cracked apart. A burning rock hurtled toward his forehead—Evan could even feel the scorching heat of the rock's surface igniting his hair. The shadow of death engulfed him like a tide. His vision began to darken; in his ears, he heard Martha's gentle singing, Alice's laughter, the quarrels of Mark and Edward... These memories of "life" became incredibly vivid under the temptation of death.

"I can't die..."

Evan clenched his fist violently, his nails digging deep into his palm. The sharp pain instantly cleared his muddled consciousness! He forcibly mobilized the faint Supernatural Factor within him, and a faint white light glimmered at his fingertips—a remnant of the Light imprint from when he had drawn the Exorcism Bullet. This glimmer of light acted like a lifeline, actually repelling the tar-like clouds clinging to his ankles!

"Get the hell away from me!"

Evan roared, throwing his entire body forward with all his might. He passed through the onslaught of the birds' beaks, letting their wings slash his cheeks, letting the lava scorch his back until it smoked. Finally, just before his consciousness completely sank, he lunged headfirst toward that silvery-grey lightning crack!

"Boom—"

The dream shattered like glass. Evan jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, his pajamas soaked with cold sweat. The pale moonlight outside the window shone on his face. He touched his forehead and back—no wounds, no burning pain, only his heart pounding wildly in his chest as if he had just crawled back from hell.

Trembling, he raised his hand; the pain from clenching his fist in the dream still lingered in his palm. At this moment, Evan realized with absolute clarity: someone had tried to kill him in the dream. And the mastermind behind it was undoubtedly connected to the Dark Supernaturals who had framed Mark during the day—having failed in reality, they had attempted to erase him completely through a mental attack in his dreams.

"What a ruthless method..." Evan gritted his teeth, a cold fire igniting in his eyes. He threw off the covers, got out of bed, walked to the desk, and took out the completed Exorcism Bullet from the drawer, clutching it tightly in his hand.

Evan's gaze sharp as a hawk scanned his own arm—where the lava had scorched him in the dream, faint traces of dark Supernatural Factor remained, slithering beneath his skin like snakes. It was the mental imprint left by the dream-weaver!

"Nearby!"

His heart raced. He vaulted over the windowsill; the cold snow cushioned his feet but did nothing to slow his speed. Guided by his perception of the Supernatural Factor, he moved like a shadow through the silent streets and alleys, finally catching the thick, cloying scent of that dark aura in a narrow alley behind his own house.

Deep in the alley, an unremarkable man was curled up in a corner, clutching his head and moaning in pain. He wore a faded worker's jacket, his face smeared with dirt, looking no different from an ordinary dock laborer. But Evan recognized at a glance: the dark factor swirling around the man was identical to the scent of the sweet, drugging incense from the dream!

Clearly, this man was the dream-weaver who had tried to murder him. Perhaps Evan's fierce resistance in the dream had exceeded his expectations, causing a backlash of mental energy that left him in agony now, unable to even lift his head.

"It's you!"

Evan growled low, without a moment's hesitation. He knew that any mercy toward such a ruthless Dark Supernatural was suicide. He swiftly drew the engraved Exorcism Bullet from his coat. The moment his finger pulled the trigger, the bullet, infused with the Light factor he had channeled, shot like a silver arrow, striking the man squarely in the heart!

"Thud—"

The muffled sound of the bullet entering flesh was starkly clear in the silent alley. The man jerked his head up, revealing a twisted face filled with disbelief, terror, and venom. But in an instant, his pupils dilated, and his body went limp, collapsing into the snow. The dark factor around him receded like a tide, finally dissipating into a wisp of smoke in the cold wind.

Evan stood at the mouth of the alley, watching the body gradually lose its warmth, his chest heaving violently. The icy night wind whipped snowflakes against his face but couldn't dispel the chill in his heart—for the first time, he felt so acutely that the cruelty and danger of the supernatural world had pressed right up to his own doorstep.

He crouched down, examining the man's corpse. Inside the man's jacket, he found a small black pouch containing a few sweet-smelling pills similar to those from the dream, and a crumpled note with hastily scrawled writing: "Third son of the Noah family. Eliminate quickly."

"So it really was aimed at me..." Evan clenched the note, his knuckles turning white. He looked up at the warm light shining from his family's window, then at the silent street outside the alley. He understood now—the true target behind the plot to frame Mark might have been him from the very beginning.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Now was not the time for deep investigation; he had to dispose of the scene quickly, not letting his family discover anything amiss. Evan dragged the man's body deeper into the alley, hiding it behind some abandoned wooden crates, then covered the bloodstains with snow before turning to leave.