Later, the wind picked up on the beach. The East Coast rarely has palm trees, and the maple trees swayed on the beach under the setting sun, offering a different kind of charm, not so intense, but rather subtle and artistic.
The car drove onto the winding mountain road. As the manor drew closer, Arrogant seemed to be hesitating to speak. It wasn't until the car came to a steady stop at the manor gate, with no other buildings nearby, that Arrogant began to speak: "Is this the new house you bought?"
"Yes." Greed nodded. He sensed that something seemed off with Arrogant, so he asked, "What's wrong?"
"This doesn't seem like the type you would like." Arrogant paused slightly, then said, "Did you choose this style because of me?"
"To say it wasn't entirely because of you wouldn't be entirely true either," Greed said. "I didn't have many options; this was the best one. If it didn't suit your taste so well, maybe I would have waited. But it just so happens..."
Arrogant stepped into the manor.
This manor indeed matched his aesthetic, and compared to the previous Viscount Manor, it was more open and bright. After all, the sea was right outside, and the weather in New York was much better than in Gotham. Even at sunset, the light of the setting sun streamed through the window sills, projecting dazzling geometric shapes on the floor, adding more warmth than that dark and damp Gotham Manor.
"I don't know why you sold that big manor," Greed said. "Aren't you nostalgic about it?"
"You misunderstood one thing. If I were nostalgic, it wouldn't be because of the manor itself. That place was not suitable for modern living, and I never liked that house," Arrogant sighed softly, sounding a bit sentimental. "The house itself is not the key."
"The key is the memories, I know," Greed walked over and sat on the bed, the sunset on the sea rippling into his eyes. "As your first residence in Gotham, there must be many memorable memories. Even if you moved to a new home, you can still keep them, right?"
"I don't have that much money," Arrogant said. "The property prices in Gotham aren't cheap either. If I didn't do an exchange, I couldn't possibly afford a new house. And I believe that the new house will also have many beautiful memories."
"It seems that the one who always lives in the past and is unwilling to move forward is me. But actually, you recently took your own first step," Arrogant said to Greed. "You finally came out of your comfortable nest to create new memories."
"When I first came to this world, I was much more painful than you," Greed continued. "I didn't like change, so I madly created change, wanting this world to never quiet down. But recently, I can be at peace."
Arrogant was about to say something more, but suddenly heard a "thud" from upstairs. He looked up and then asked, "Do you have a guest?"
"We're the guests."
The two went upstairs together and saw a lamp knocked over in one of the guest rooms on the second floor. Greed scolded, "Don't just throw things on the floor, this lamp is expensive."
After saying that, he put the lamp back. Arrogant kept staring at him, and Greed said, "This house has some issues, if anything strange happens, just pretend you didn't see it."
"What issues?"
"Haunted."
Before the words were even finished, the walls began oozing blood again, though it didn't seem to be real blood, as there was no smell, only color, and it started to flow downward.
"I warn you not to get it on the floor," Greed said irritably, "or I'll throw poop on the walls."
The blood immediately stopped and then suddenly reversed direction, defying gravity and returning to its source. It seemed as though it had never encountered such a tough guy.
"Interesting," Arrogant said. "It's the first time I've seen someone argue with their own house."
"Impossible," Greed said. "You've seen Venom, he argues with his house every day."
"That doesn't count; they're in a symbiotic relationship, not a cohabiting one," Arrogant said as they walked downstairs. "Looks like you're really bored, choosing such a lively house."
Neither of them paid much attention to the house being haunted. This seemed to somewhat provoke the restless spirits in the house; they started shaking the chandeliers violently. Greed shouted impatiently, "Quiet!"
The chandelier stopped again, and then the carpet started to ripple like a caterpillar crawling forward. Without looking, they directly leapt over it. The tableware on the dining table started clinking again.
"Alright, alright," Greed said, sounding as if he had compromised. "I haven't officially moved in yet, but once I do, I'll play with you. Is that okay?"
Miraculously, the noises finally ceased. Arrogant said with some helplessness, "So the ghost in the house is a child?"
"This is not a ghost, but a restless spirit. However, many urban legends portray them like naughty children, making noise just to get people's attention."
Arrogant had also heard legends about restless spirits and didn't ask further. They could both tell that the ghosts in the house had no malice; otherwise, they wouldn't have bothered with shaking chandeliers or playing with carpets, they could have just removed the stairs, an unwary person could easily fall.
The house hadn't been cleaned yet, so they returned to the sanatorium for the night. It started snowing again early the next morning, but Natasha arrived as promised.
"The agents have already gone over," she said. "Do you want to go take a look?"
"Of course, I'm worried the little ghost in the house might misbehave," Greed said hurriedly as he put on his coat. "Let's go check it out."
Natasha looked him over in his new coat and said, "You look like Constantine."
"Really?" Greed was a bit skeptical, "This trench coat obviously has a different color and style."
"It's because Constantine leaves such a deep impression," Natasha said, "I bet anyone who has dealt with him tries to avoid anything associated with him. I strongly suspect you're dressed like this to pretend to be Constantine, lure people in to beat you up, and then turn around and beat them instead."
Greed was amused by her speculation and said, "Thank you for the tip, madam. You're quite the expert at fishing."
Even though it was snowing, the Flying Shuttle was still operating. Greed, Arrogant, and Natasha arrived at the new estate together. The house's legal name had now been changed to Rodrix Manor, and one night's time was enough for the community to learn that the house had a new owner.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were also riding the Flying Shuttle, but it wasn't a S.H.I.E.L.D.-branded shuttle. Natasha explained, "Nick was worried about affecting your relationships with the neighbors; no one here would like agents."
Greed understood. After all, in a wealthy community, there's a natural resistance to organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. If they openly sent a team of agents, these people would surely get anxious.
"I don't care," Greed said, "If you can provoke them to immediately come over, this gentleman would be very pleased."
Greed turned his head to look at Arrogant, who shook his head helplessly.
Despite Greed's cautioning the little ghosts in the room, they still occasionally caused a commotion. Fortunately, the agents were not ordinary people and ignored all anomalies in the room, diligently going about their cleaning duties.
One agent held a vacuum cleaner against the wall, sucking up the blood that continuously seeped out, while chatting with another colleague who was repeatedly trying to close the cabinet drawers.
A female agent opened a cabinet, and a skeleton tumbled out. She had no choice but to take a large trash bin from a nearby colleague and stuff all the bones into it.
Another agent opened a door, and the bed sheet flew up, forming a human silhouette in mid-air that lunged at the agent. The agent took a step back, aimed their gun, and the bed sheet ghost immediately raised its hands in surrender.
Natasha, just walking past a wall, sensed something was amiss. She took two steps back and looked at the painting on the wall. The painting was a portrait, and suddenly its eyes turned to her and it smiled.
Natasha sneered, drew her gun, and pointed it at the subject's forehead, "Don't move, treason against the state, I'm arresting you (in Russian)."
The portrait vanished with a "whoosh."
Natasha put away her gun and smiled helplessly. As she walked forward, all the portraits hanging in the corridor disappeared one after another as if they had seen a ghost.
Greed and Arrogant went to the garden. A pitcher plant spat a fly at them, though fortunately, its range was insufficient. Arrogant snorted, "How rude, we should invite Lady Aisley over."
"No rush. I'm planning to open a small plot over there and plant some man-eating plants, so it will have company to play with."
"Your house will turn into an arena."
"It already is an arena; I just want the man-eating plants to do the work for me."
Just as they were talking, a figure approached from afar. Strange landed with a wave of his cloak and said, "Good heavens, you really bought a house here."
"What's the matter?" Greed asked.
"I almost warned you," Strange said helplessly, "Hampton is not a good place."
"How do you know?" Greed was curious. Strange could access the wealthy in Hampton and might have visited as a guest. Was he also troubled there?
"This is a Cursed Land," Strange said, "And even I can't resolve it."
"Why?"
"The hardest curse to break is the human heart," Strange hinted. When it comes to many mystical issues, he gives such ambiguous answers, and Greed has grown accustomed to it.
However, based on what Dracula previously mentioned, Greed could roughly speculate that the oddities here were caused by the people, by their excessive greed and morbid spirit, leading to these abnormal phenomena. Simply removing the energy wouldn't solve the problem; it must be addressed from the people themselves.
But there were more than a handful of people living in Hampton that even Shiller couldn't heal. Moreover, many didn't even need healing. Even the Supreme Magician couldn't eliminate them all. This problem naturally remained unresolved.
"Why did you choose to buy a house here?" Strange asked puzzledly, "Even if the houses here are indeed in good condition, Tony should have told you about the community atmosphere here being..."
"What's wrong with the community atmosphere?" Greed asked knowingly.
"They're very unfriendly," Strange explained, assuming he didn't know, "Vain, fawning over the high and mighty, forming cliques to exclude others..."
"Why would you think I'm afraid of this?"
"It would be uncomfortable to live here."
"Not necessarily," Arrogant suddenly spoke up. He turned his head towards a direction where the sound of waves hitting the rocks could be heard, "...There's the sea outside the house."