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Lord Of Succubi:Transmigrated As A Dual Cultivator In Isekai Of Magic

Chapter 457 457
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Chapter 457 Chapter 457

?Nexus's concern for Abby's safety propels them forward, their footsteps echoing through the quiet streets.

As they approach Dracula's residence, Nexus takes a deep breath, preparing for the conversation that lies ahead.

Nexus raises his hand, signaling for a moment of pause. "Mike, we need to approach this carefully. We have to comfort Dracula and ask him about the Book of Stones—what he's using it for and how it came into his possession. But we must tread lightly; the truth might be more complex than we anticipate. And we must ensure Abby's safety."

Mike nods in agreement, understanding the delicate nature of their mission. "I'm with you, Nexus. Let's get the answers we need without escalating the situation. And, of course, ensure Abby's safety in the process. That is the fifth time you will make mention of it, I know you care for Abby, I care for her too."

The duo continues their journey, the mansion drawing nearer with each step. The night holds its secrets, and within the walls of Dracula's home, they had thought an intricate web of truth and mystery awaited them not expecting to find only scared Abby at home.

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The pursuit leads Reaves and Tom deep into the forest on the outskirts of the city. The moonlight barely penetrates the thick canopy, creating an eerie atmosphere as they continue their chase. Reaves, fueled by anger and determination, intends to go even deeper into the shadows, his focus solely on catching the elusive black figure.

However, Tom, ever the voice of reason, intervenes, placing a restraining hand on Reaves's shoulder. "Reaves, calm down. We need to think this through," Tom advises, his tone measured.

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Reaves whirls around, his anger palpable. "What are you doing, Tom? This is our chance to catch the murderer!" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ Noᴠᴇꜰɪre.nᴇt

Tom maintains his composure, explaining, "There might be a trap waiting for us in there. We can't rush in blindly. Besides, we don't need to catch this murderer right now. The police department will handle it once they confirm the identity. You shouldn't risk getting hurt."

Reaves, though frustrated, listens to Tom's rationale. "And another thing, Reaves," Tom continues, "you shouldn't involve yourself too much in police work. Your duty is as the chief of the city. Let the police do their job."

The shadows within the forest seem to deepen as Tom's words linger. Reaves, though still simmering with frustration, takes a moment to consider the wisdom in Tom's counsel.

"Tom, you know how personal this is for me. I can't just stand by and let the police handle it. If there's a chance to end this now, I have to take it," Reaves asserts, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and vulnerability. What if the murderer goes after his daughter again, he can not risk that happening.

Tom, maintaining his calm demeanor, responds, "I understand, Reaves. This is personal for me too. Charlie was my friend and he was not only murdered but turned to that. But charging into the unknown won't help anyone. We need to be strategic and play our cards right. The police will catch the murderer, and justice will be served."

The distant hooting of an owl adds an eerie backdrop to the conversation. Reaves, torn between his responsibilities as the city chief and his yearning for justice, finds himself at a crossroads.

"Reaves, your role as the chief of the City is crucial. The city looks up to you for leadership and stability. Let the police do their job, and when the time is right, we'll ensure justice is served," Tom advises, a steadying presence in the midst of turmoil.

The moonlight creates dappled patterns on the forest floor as the two men stand in contemplative silence. Reaves, with a heavy sigh, concedes, "You're right, Tom. Let's play it smart. We'll let the police handle this, but I won't rest until we find out the truth."

A surge of anger courses through Reaves as he thinks about the killer who has disrupted the tranquility of his city and threatened his family. He contemplates the priorities that demand his attention — the safety of his family is paramount.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his jaw clenched in frustration. He kicks at a fallen twig, the snap echoing in the night,.

"I should go home," Reaves thinks aloud, his thoughts weaving through the dense foliage. "Protecting my family is crucial. What if the killer tries to retaliate, targeting them in my absence? I can't let anything happen to them."

Reaves with his frustration evident on his face, continues to vent his anger as he walks alongside Tom through the forest. "Damn it, Tom! This whole situation is a mess. Can't believe I'm letting some sicko disrupt the peace in my city and threaten my family life."

Tom, ever the calm voice of reason, responds, "I get it, Reaves. It's infuriating, but we need to approach this strategically. Your family's safety is the priority. Once we identify the killer, justice will be served."

Reaves grumbles, "Justice, huh? I'll make sure they pay for every ounce of suffering they've caused."

The moonlight flickers through the leaves, casting a dappled pattern on the forest floor.

Tom places a hand on Reaves's shoulder, offering support. "We'll catch them, Reaves. But we can't rush in blindly. The police will handle the investigation."

Turning to Tom, Reaves instructs, "Let me know immediately if there's any discovery. I trust you and the police to do a perfect job."

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Tom nods in assurance. "You have my word, Reaves. We'll handle it, and I'll keep you informed. But for now, go home. Your family needs you."

As they emerge from the forest, Reaves, still simmering with frustration, clenches his fists. "This isn't over. When we find the bastard, I'll personally make them regret crossing me."

Tom offers a reassuring smile. "I know you will, Reaves. We'll get through this together."

Feeling a sense of reassurance, Reaves, with a renewed purpose, hastens back home.

As Tom stands alone in the heart of the forest, the night's symphony envelops him. The rustling leaves create a gentle melody, accompanied by the distant hooting of an owl and the occasional scurry of small creatures.

Tom's brow furrows in determination, his eyes reflecting the weight of recent events. "Charlie, my friend, you won't be forgotten. I'll make sure whoever did this pays for it," he whispers, the words carried away by the night breeze. The ancient trees, like silent witnesses, stand tall around him.

The profound determination etches lines on Tom's face, illuminated by the silver glow filtering through the dense foliage. The cool breeze carries whispers of the night as if the very air is privy to the secrets hidden within the city's shadows.

A distant owl hoots, its call cutting through the stillness like a mournful dirge.

Returning to the city streets, Tom's resolve remains unwavering. The city, now shrouded in the embrace of the night, awaits his lead. His steps are measured, guided by the harmonious sounds of the forest he left behind. The night air carries not only the fragrance of damp earth but also a sense of urgency as Tom advances his plan.

"I won't rest until I find the one responsible for Charlie's death,"