The MI6 agents, refusing to believe it, thoroughly searched the dilapidated house after confirming the address multiple times.

The result, naturally, was nothing.

Well, it wasn't entirely fruitless, because they actually found a network cable in the house.

The house, where the power was off, actually had a wired internet connection, the kind that could connect to the internet.

In this situation, giving up was not an option, so MI6 agents, led by Scornin, dispersed to conduct a thorough search of the surrounding area.

Later that day, the CIA agent's private jet arrived at Dublin Airport and immediately headed towards the coordinates.

They were also dressed as tourists, a couple and two brothers.

When they arrived at the target location, they did not stop, but drove slowly past it.

It was already evening when they arrived. Although the other houses around were far apart, they had scattered lights on. This house, however, was completely dark, so they didn't rush in.

Meanwhile, from the windows of the guesthouses in the distance, two MI6 surveillance agents kept a close eye on the room. They glanced at the passing car for a while, but seeing that it was just passing by, they paid no further attention.

The two groups were investigating the house without knowing each other's identities.

After driving away, the CIA agents decided to find a family-run guesthouse that had recently become popular in the area to stay at and ask about the situation, since the house didn't look like anyone was there.

Out of basic reverence for supernatural forces, I did not venture there rashly under these unclear circumstances.

The guesthouse they found was run by a family of four. It only had five rooms, and two were already occupied. After they booked the other two rooms, Reagan started chatting with the owner.

The man's name was Miso, and he was a very talkative fellow.

"Why are you asking about that dilapidated house too?"

Uncle Miso looked slightly surprised when the conversation turned to the dilapidated house.

Reagan paused, feigning confusion: "We were driving by just now and noticed that all the other lights were on except for that one. It looked like a haunted house or something, and we thought it sounded pretty exciting, so we were asking. What? Uncle Miso, is someone else asking?"

Miso nodded after hearing Reagan's explanation.

“Yes, Old John runs a family-run hotel just like me. He mentioned to me while we were chatting at the bar today that some of his guests had asked him about that room.”

Then Miso told Reagan in a serious tone.

"You'd better not make a move on that house. It's not a haunted house, and there's no treasure there. If some locals find out you've disrespected the house, they'll come after you."

"ah!?"

Miso's words revealed that others were eyeing the position, most likely the British, but what he said next interested Reagan even more.

Why are the locals coming after us to settle scores?

As he spoke, Reagan took out a cigarette case and handed one to Miso.

"Hey, American cigarettes, I like them."

As he smoked, Miso slowly recounted some of the things he knew to Reagan, who was using the alias Solor.

"Sorol, do you know Celtic mythology?"

Having done some preliminary research, Reagan was naturally aware of the situation, so he nodded.

“I know a little, but there are so many Celtic myths, I don’t know which one you’re referring to.”

"Hmm, so do you know about Druids and the Druidic religion?"

"I know that. Many fantasy films and works have drawn inspiration from Celtic mythology."

Miso glanced around and lowered his voice.

"A druid lives in that house!"

"Oh, are they Druidic monks?"

"No, they are true druids, possessing the ability to communicate with the gods!"

"What?"

Reagan gasped and feigned surprise.

His performance pleased Miso.

"Of course, no one has ever seen it, but the local Druids firmly believe it."

"In Celtic mythology, the ancient druids possess magical powers that are certainly not visible to ordinary people. But whether you believe it or not, if you dare to offend that house, you will definitely be taught a lesson."

"Those people from Old John's family didn't go into that room?"

"Uh... I don't know about that, haha. Actually, that's just a way of saying it. Nobody's going to be looking at a dilapidated house all day long, right?"

Miso laughed it off and brushed off his boasting.

After finishing his conversation with Miso, Reagan returned to his room and called over the other three people.

He recounted what he knew and used satellite positioning to locate Old John's family hotel, finding that it also had a good view and could be seen from the house.

“Others are also watching that place, most likely the British, so for now we’ll focus on observation. James, you two will take turns keeping watch tonight, using infrared binoculars from your windows to observe that house. Tomorrow we’ll make contact with the local Druid church.”

That night, both sides gathered information in their own ways and quietly watched the room.

Around 3 a.m., something suddenly appeared in the infrared telescope that jolted James awake, and he quietly woke up George, who was resting next to him.

The latter immediately stood up alertly.

"Something's up?"

"Yes, look."

When George looked at the image in the infrared camera, he saw a humanoid figure with a high body temperature walking towards the room. Normal human body temperature is around 37 degrees Celsius, which appears red or light red under the infrared camera.

In winter, with clothes blocking the view, you can only really see the color of the hands and head.

But the one in the picture is a bright red color with a high temperature, and it is a full-body image. Could it be an exhibitionist with a body temperature far exceeding that of an ordinary person?

"I'll go wake Reagan and Lucy. You stay here and observe."

"good."

In less than a minute, the four of them gathered together, and the humanoid figure in the infrared view had already entered the courtyard of the house.

"Could this be the legendary Druid?"

Lucy murmured something.

"Hmm? There are other people! Are they the British?"

Both night vision binoculars observed four people quietly appearing in concealed positions.

"Reagan, shall we go over there?"

Reagan frowned.

"No, the British will definitely leave backup observation posts. If we go there, we'll be exposing ourselves. Besides, what we're facing is probably not simple. Let them scout ahead for us!"

...

Four British agents quietly crouched down, watching the figure in robes who had already walked into the courtyard of the dilapidated house.

But the figure didn't go into the house; instead, it stood in the yard looking at a large tree.

They had seen the tree during the day; it was an oak tree that looked quite old.

The man stood quietly for about five minutes, and just as the Englishmen were hesitating whether to go out and grab him, he spoke.

"Saloiman, when are you going to say hello to me?"

This was a language they had never heard before, yet the British could understand it, which greatly surprised them.

And they were thinking about it too.

Saloisman? Was he calling for that tree?

While the group was still wondering, a strange change occurred.

A dark shadow flashed past the oak tree.

"Boom!"

The ground in the distance shook as a result.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

It was as if a large number of hand grenades suddenly exploded in the yard, and the dilapidated houses began to collapse.

The four MI6 members who went out felt pebbles and flying dust constantly whizzing past them and overhead, and the violent ground shaking made their bodies numb.

My companion's urgent shouts came through the earpiece.

"Run! Run! Get away from that yard!"

A slow, rough, but exceptionally violent roar came from the courtyard.

"Sarazor, you traitor to the earth!"

"You still have the nerve to come see me?"

"Boom~~~"

The entire house collapsed, and a huge oak tree rose from the ground, its branches flailing like a raging Titan!