The agents responsible for cleaning quickly completed their work. The entire house looked brand new from inside out. Although its exterior still appeared somewhat desolate and gloomy, it already looked very tidy. This melancholic aura added a touch of artsy quality to the estate, much like some cold-tone movies always shrouded in a light layer of leaden grey, where grown protagonists return to an old house, reminiscing through a photo about their grandparents' love story during the wartime.
The agents left quietly. When Arrogant returned from the back garden, the house was already empty. He stood at the back door, scanning the entire hall, seemingly waiting for something.
Suddenly, the cup rack in the kitchen emitted a tinkling hollow sound, and the curtains fluttered slightly as if a breeze had suddenly blown in. Gradually, those irregular sounds weaved into a slightly melancholic music.
Arrogant looked toward that direction, but he neither moved nor spoke, just stood there quietly, listening to the end of the tune. He was sure this wasn't classical music, nor did it have the style of background pop music. The melody was simple, somewhat like a beginner child's practice piece in composition, the chords not that sorrowful, only the sound of cups clinking was too ethereal, echoing through the vast living room of the estate, exuding a trace of melancholy fear and eeriness.
"Are you okay?" Arrogant asked.
No one answered him. The music had disappeared too. Yet Arrogant continued to stand there waiting, until it got darker. On the curio shelf in the living room, an ornamental phonograph also started to play music, but there was no record on it.
The melody of this music was almost the same as before, only more complex, with a noticeable increase in professionalism, and many ornamental chords added, making it sound more mature, but the underlying sadness was heavier. This time, it wasn't the instruments conveying it but what the creator wanted to express, a certain oppressive atmosphere.
Arrogant listened quietly to the end of this tune, then the entire room fell silent again. He asked once more, "Can we talk?"
Still, no one answered him. After a while, the piano upstairs started to play. The piano placed beside the atrium did not have its keys move, yet it produced sound. This time it was a very complete and beautiful piece, but unfortunately, it stopped halfway.
The moment the music stopped, boom, boom, boom, boom — the doors upstairs closed one after another, coming closer and closer... until a creak, the door behind Arrogant leading to the garden was also shut. The room returned to silence.
"I'm sorry, I can't communicate with you through music, as I'm not good at it. If you have a better way to communicate, I would love to hear your story. Can you tell me?"
There was no more sound in the room. This silence lasted for over an hour, just when Arrogant was getting a bit sleepy, the cups in the kitchen sounded again. It was the same tune, and the process that followed was no different from before, but something gradually appeared before Arrogant's eyes.
A short-haired child stood on tiptoe, using a spoon to tap the cups hanging on the kitchen cup rack. At first, it was just a few simple notes, which gradually became rich. Once grown, he liked to listen to a variety of records, even recording his own compositions onto records to play repeatedly. Then, he pursued professional learning, writing better pieces and even performing them himself. But for some reason, everything abruptly stopped, with no further movement.
The gradually perfected tune was like a person's life. But sadly, this life was too short, even when sitting at the piano, he was only a youth at best. He did not become a performer or composer but became a part of the house's soul.
Arrogant now understood, the ghost of this house wasn't just a ghost wandering in the material world, it was part of a person's spirit. Because he and Greed witnessed completely different appearances of the ghost.
When the two of them stayed together in the house, the ghost behaved like a mischievous child, fiddling here one moment, messing around there the next. If people paid attention to it, it would be very happy; if not, it would keep causing trouble, trying to get others' attention. The methods were also very crude, verging on silly.
However, when Arrogant stayed in the house alone, what he felt was a young man's short yet sad life. The way it was expressed was much more subtle, entirely different from before.
Everyone sees different illusions in the house because their psychic realm varies, and the soul that resonates with them differs too. But now Arrogant only wants to know, who resonates with him, and what happened.
There must be secrets in Hampton.
Arrogant began searching online for information about this house. Such a unique house should have plenty of records online. Unfortunately, apart from a few sparse photographs, Arrogant found nothing.
Just like the haunted houses often seen in horror movies, the ghost seems to have a magical power, making the house visible only to certain people. Otherwise, even exploring bloggers alone would have trampled the house down. This house seems to be the same, hard to find its trace online.
Afterward, Arrogant started investigating Hampton. There was a wealth of information on this, because more than ten billionaires lived on a single street in East Hampton, each a prominent figure, with resumes filling a whole page, and several autobiographies published.
Arrogant merely skimmed through the backgrounds of his neighbors, then discovered that most villa and vacation home owners were nouveau riche, such as fashion designers, Hollywood stars, or certain socialite ladies. These people's houses were relatively small and located more outward, not really considered part of Hampton.
But the truly core places, located at the northernmost end of Long Island, housed many large estates. Some estate owners' names were well-known, while others seemed very mysterious, unfamiliar to ordinary people. This is because their families' glorious eras were typically right after landing. Their traces needed to be found in Europe, requiring searching through the noble surnames in the history of major European empires to find some clues.
The Americas are not a place for exiles. When the Europeans first discovered this continent, they knew it was full of gold. Many of the then-thriving families dispatched fleets here, taking root when Hampton was just a small fishing village. During World War I, there was widespread immigration, and by World War II, they had the capacity to harvest others.
These people are the real Hampton people, and this is the true center of Hampton. The house that Greed bought is on the edge of Hampton's center. Looking down, all you can see are those extremely luxurious large estates. With slightly better eyesight, you might even see children playing in their courtyards.
This made Arrogance even more puzzled. This manor simply shouldn't exist. No wealthy person would allow someone to spy on their privacy in this way. All the large estates below live under the nose of this manor's owner, constantly being surveilled.
Medieval lord castles were mostly built on hills to monitor the towns below. Now, the location of Rodrix Manor is equivalent to that of a lord's castle. But how could those sky-high-minded old money families allow themselves to have a lord?
Arrogance gradually confirmed his suspicions. Hampton is hiding a secret. Dracula didn't mention it, possibly intending to trap them, but more likely because it's inconvenient for him to say. From this perspective, Arrogance had new lines of thought.
What is the relationship between Dracula and these old money families?
It seems like he is the excluded one. After all, this guy is too eccentric, living alone in such a big estate, and being active at night. Anyone would find that odd. But no one bothers him, which makes Arrogance suspect that the old money families know who Dracula is and have some tacit understanding with him, even allowing him to live halfway up the hill and watch over them.
So now that the house has changed hands, this tacit understanding is bound to be broken. It won't be long before some people come to the door. However, the person sent to probe must not be the principal, but more likely someone they've set up as a scapegoat...
Just as he thought of this, Arrogance heard the sound of a horn outside. A car was coming. Arrogance raised an eyebrow; it was already late, not visitor hours. But he quickly realized, it was not human visiting hours, but more likely Dracula's. This was like morning for a vampire.
Arrogance walked out from the front yard. The couple who got out of the car froze the moment they saw him, then showed a slightly frightened expression. But it wasn't directed at Arrogance, it seemed they recognized the face.
Arrogance was also puzzled. Greed's appearance looked more normal. If they mistook him for Greed, they shouldn't be so scared unless they've interacted before.
"Didn't expect you'd come first," the woman said, "Stark must have told you something, right? Where is Mr. Dracula?"
Arrogance keenly caught the meaning in the woman's words. They were looking for Dracula, and they knew Stark. There was some connection between these two matters.
"He's not here," Arrogance said, "If you have something, I can pass on the message."
"As if you could stay here long," the woman hadn't finished her sentence when the man next to her tugged at her. The man gave a warm smile, walked up, shook hands with Arrogance, and said, "Saphire Avers. Just call me Saul."
"Hello, Mr. Avers," Arrogance said calmly, "Hello, Mrs. Avers."
Avers rubbed his hands together and asked, "Did Mr. Dracula tell you when he'd be back?"
"I'm not too sure."
"Do you know why he went out?"
"I guess he went to visit a friend," Arrogance said with his eyes downcast.
Mrs. Avers suddenly got agitated, saying, "It must be your trick. Stark doesn't live here. He doesn't understand anything. Dracula can't leave..."
"May I ask why?" Arrogance suddenly focused on her. Upon seeing his gray eyes, Mrs. Avers seemed choked.
She stepped back two paces, suddenly speaking Italian to her husband, but she was too far and Arrogance couldn't hear. Then Avers also stepped back two paces, examining Arrogance up and down.
Then they said nothing more, got into the car, and hurried away. Arrogance stood in the front yard, watching their backs as if he realized something.
If they had seen Greed before, and they mistook him for Greed now, to them, it would seem that the person they just met had a complete personality change, suddenly becoming very cold and eerie, as if possessed by a ghost — precisely when there's a haunted house behind him.