70: Chapter 70 Establishing the Dark Kingdom

The streets of Tokyo remained thick with the atmosphere of martial law, though the smell of gunpowder in the air had faded significantly.

A full day had passed since the riots of the "Clown Night," and soldiers from the Self-Defense Forces were still patrolling the streets with live ammunition. The dull, rhythmic sound of armored vehicles rolling over the road seemed to remind people that the crazy revelry was not a hallucination.

Occasionally, a few figures wearing clown masks would rush out of the alleys, brandishing machetes or iron bars, roaring as they lunged at the patrolling soldiers.

But these sporadic resistances were quickly suppressed; the soldiers were no longer as panicked as they had been the previous night. Their movements were swift and well-coordinated, and often a few blows with the butt of their rifles were enough to knock the rioters unconscious and drag them onto the prison trucks.

"Take them away!"

A soldier kicked the unconscious rioter on the ground and shouted to his companion.

The prison trucks were already packed with people, each face showing, to varying degrees, the lingering fear after the madness. Many of them were still wearing those iconic white masks, though the smiles on the masks now seemed particularly ironic.

Dozens of such small-scale conflicts occurred within the day, but most were just instigated ordinary people, lacking organization and weapons, completely unable to pose a substantial threat to the martial law forces.

Meanwhile, in the television stations of Tokyo, a carefully choreographed "apology drama" was being staged.

High-ranking cabinet officials, dressed in crisp suits, appeared in a line before the cameras, bowing deeply to the national audience, their ninety-degree bends nearly touching the ground.

The Prime Minister, leading them, looked sorrowful, his voice choked with emotion: "I am sorry! It was our dereliction of duty that caused the citizens of Tokyo to experience such a terrifying night! We will definitely investigate to the end, severely punish the perpetrators, and give everyone an explanation!"

Following this, several ministers took turns speaking. Some denounced the cruelty of the rioters, some expressed sympathy for the victims, and others announced a series of "appeasement measures"—establishing the "Tokyo Reconstruction Foundation," allocating billions of yen to repair damaged buildings, providing high pensions for the families of the casualties, and even promising to lower taxes and improve people's livelihoods.

After this combination of actions, the high officials on the television screen had red-rimmed eyes and sincere tones, as if they were truly filled with guilt over this disaster.

The public's mood, as expected, began to soften.

At first, the streets and alleys were filled with angry curses at the government's incompetence, fear of the clowns, and worries about the future.

But with the relentless barrage of apologies, compensation, and promises, especially after the news of the "Reconstruction Foundation" and "pensions" broke, many affected families began to focus their attention on practical benefits.

"Sigh, it's come to this, there's no point in cursing anymore."

A shop owner who had lost his store during the riots sighed at the TV, "If I can get some compensation and reopen the store, I'll be thankful to the heavens."

"Yes, I heard the government is going to catch the perpetrators, I hope they can really catch them," the neighbor replied.

Just like that, a few more days passed.

The island nation's government suddenly held a press conference, announcing that "major breakthroughs have been made in the case."

At the press conference, the police displayed photos of several suspects who had been beaten black and blue, claiming they were core members of the Clown Organization who had orchestrated the riots.

"After our all-out investigation, we have locked onto and captured the culprits!"

The spokesperson for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department pointed at the photos, their tone firm, "These people had long been dissatisfied with society, gathered together, used the internet to incite the public, and created this disaster. Currently, they have all confessed and been brought to justice!"

Subsequently, there was the familiar bowing and apology.

The Prime Minister promised again: "Please trust the government; we will definitely strengthen security and will never let similar things happen again!"

Immediately following this, a long list of dismissals was released—from section chiefs of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department to vice ministers of the cabinet, dozens of officials were dismissed and investigated for "dereliction of duty."

Most of these officials were people with notorious reputations and deep public resentment, and being pushed out as "scapegoats" at this moment actually made many citizens feel that it was "deeply satisfying."

"These parasites should have been dealt with long ago!"

"It seems the government is truly determined this time!"

The direction of public opinion shifted quietly.

Although some still questioned whether "the true culprits were caught," under the government's strong guidance and the temptation of practical benefits, the surging public opinion was successfully suppressed.

The protests in the streets gradually disappeared, and people began to busy themselves with cleaning up the ruins, collecting compensation, and trying to return to a normal track of life.

...

Lin Family Manor, inside the secret room.

Unlike the hustle and bustle of the outside world, it was so quiet here that one could hear their own heartbeat.

The walls of the secret room were made of obsidian, carved with complex dark gold patterns that emitted a faint, eerie light. Lin Long sat cross-legged on a stone platform in the center of the secret room, his eyes tightly closed, surrounded by a layer of visible black airflow.

These airflows were the black aura of evil thoughts he had drawn from the "Clown Night"—the madness of the rioters, the fear of the public, the pain of the victims, the greed of the officials... countless negative emotions were amplified to the extreme during that riot, eventually converging into a massive amount of dark energy, which he quietly absorbed.

At this moment, Lin Long was immersed in the scouring of this energy.

He could clearly feel an unprecedented power surging within his body.

This power was different from the explosive power of muscles, and also different from the destructive power of firearms; it was more like a transformation originating from the depths of his soul—Lin Long discovered that a dark space seemed to have been opened up in the depths of his soul, and as these black auras were continuously absorbed, that dark space was also constantly expanding.

More importantly, as the dark space continued to grow, his control over "darkness" became more proficient.

In the past, he needed to deliberately guide it to mobilize the negative emotions around him; but now, those black auras of evil thoughts seemed to have become a part of his body, and with just a single thought, he could condense them into tangible dark energy at his fingertips.

He tried raising his hand, and a cluster of black flames immediately appeared at his fingertips. The flames burned quietly, producing no heat, yet exuded a heart-palpitating sense of devouring.

Lin Long waved his hand, and the secret room was filled with dense ranks of Shadow Guards. With the continuous opening of the dark space, Lin Long also discovered that he no longer needed to rely on black aura to summon these dark soldiers, and the soldiers he had summoned previously had all returned to the dark space.

Lin Long discovered that as long as the dark space existed, he could summon dark soldiers without limit, only that the strength of the summoned soldiers was linked to the size of the dark space.

"Is this... the Dark Kingdom?" Lin Long whispered in his heart, a satisfied smile curling the corners of his mouth.

He could feel that he was one step closer to his "complete form."

This increase in authority was just like leveling up in a video game, making Lin Long indulge in it, unable to extricate himself.

All of this was thanks to that "Clown Night."

At first, he launched the riots just to disrupt the situation in the island nation, create trouble for the Black Organization and the FBI, and incidentally settle a "knot in his heart" from his previous life.

But he didn't expect that this crazy feast he personally directed would generate such massive negative energy, becoming the "nutrients" for his evolution.

The rioters' desire to kill, the public's sense of despair, the panic and greed of the officials... these dark emotions, which were suppressed in times of peace, were completely released that night, like a dam bursting, eventually all flowing into the dark space within his body.

"As expected, chaos is the best breeding ground for darkness."

Lin Long slowly opened his eyes, a flash of scarlet light flickering in his pupils before fading away.

He stood up and stretched his limbs, his bones making a slight "crackling" sound, every movement carrying a sense of near-perfect coordination.

He walked to the corner of the secret room, where a half-meter-thick alloy steel plate was placed.

Lin Long took a deep breath, and the black aura of evil thoughts within him instantly gathered in his right fist. He didn't use any technique, just casually punched the steel plate.

"Sss!"

Lin Long's fist, wrapped in dark flames, penetrated the steel plate as smoothly as a hot knife cutting through butter.

Looking at the steel plate in front of him that had turned into a pool of molten iron, a flash of surprise crossed Lin Long's eyes, which then turned into ecstasy.

This kind of power had far exceeded Lin Long's imagination!

He tried again, a light touch from the dark energy condensed at his fingertips, and a smooth cut appeared on the steel plate, as if it had been sliced by the sharpest knife.

"Very good... very good..." Lin Long whispered, his voice filled with an irrepressible excitement.

Looking at his increasingly powerful strength and authority, Lin Long almost couldn't help wanting to launch another riot.

"Now is not the time."

Lin Long calmed his mind and sat cross-legged again, "The growth of darkness requires a step-by-step approach. Swallowing too much power at once will instead lead to loss of control."

He could feel that although the black aura of evil thoughts within him was massive, it was not pure enough.

Just like a pile of gold ore mixed with impurities, it needed further refining to be transformed into true power.

"Next, it's time to clean up the 'residue'." Lin Long's eyes turned cold.

He was referring to those unlucky ones pushed out by the government as "scapegoats."

Although these people were not his core subordinates, they had more or less been involved with the Clown Organization—some were informants bought by the special operations team, and some were thugs taking advantage of the national crisis to make money.

The government thought that by catching them, they could calm the situation, but they didn't know that what they had caught were merely "bait" deliberately released by Lin Long.

"Ghost," Lin Long said to the air.

A black shadow appeared silently in the secret room, bowing and waiting for orders: "BOSS."

"Take care of those 'scapegoats'."

Lin Long's tone was flat, but carried an unquestionable command, "Do it cleanly, don't leave any traces. Also, have the special operations team withdraw and lie low for now."

"Yes." Ghost accepted the order, turned, and disappeared.

"Although the 'Clown Night' has ended, the legend of the 'Clown' has only just begun."

A cold arc curled the corners of Lin Long's mouth.

The island nation's government thought that by using a few scapegoats and a set of hypocritical apologies they could calm everything down, but they didn't know that they were just burying deeper hidden dangers for themselves.

When the public discovers that the "true culprits" are still at large, when their lives have not improved because of the government's promises, and when new conflicts break out again... at that time, the call of the "Clown" will be even more lethal than it is now.

And he, only needs to wait patiently.

Waiting for the arrival of the next chaos, waiting for the dark energy to gather again, waiting for himself to complete the final transformation.

The obsidian patterns in the secret room glowed brighter, shrouding Lin Long's figure in a deep gloom.

He closed his eyes and continued to immerse himself in the realization of power, the black aura of evil thoughts within him rising and falling like the tide, each cycle making his aura deeper and more terrifying.

On the surface, Tokyo seemed to be returning to calm.

But beneath the calm, undercurrents were surging.

Lin Long's dormancy was not an end, but for a more violent eruption. When he walked out of this manor again, the entire Tokyo, and even the entire world, would tremble because of it.

The dark feast had not yet ended.