HLM -Chapter 826 The Golden Armor of the Royal Guard

Wang Bo turned his head and saw that it was Mackson.

Cowboys all loved drinking. Bars in Texas were originally created to serve cowboys, and the old New Zealand cowboys also enjoyed staying in such places.

Mackson was holding a glass of strong liquor. From his forehead to his fingers, every part of him showed the marks of hardship—especially the thick calluses on his hands. If he were a shut-in gamer, then those hands must have taken the lives of billions of digital enemies.

Compared to Wang Bo, this man clearly carried far more stories. The young influencer immediately turned around, interest sparkling in his eyes, and eagerly asked:

“Hello sir, do you know any inside information about all this?”

Mackson took a sip of the liquor and said, “I was born near Sunset Town. Oh, it wasn’t called Sunset Town back then—it was called the Sun-Never-Sets Territory. The mayor is right. A large family used to live here, but as time passed, their members dwindled, and eventually all that was left was this empty stretch of land.”

“Aren’t you curious? Why would such a wealthy family—one with resources, connections, and money—decline to the point of extinction?”

The influencer nodded as fast as a pecking chick. “Yeah, that is pretty fascinating. So why?”

“The reason goes back a long, long time.”

“You know, half a century ago New Zealand was in chaos. There were wars everywhere around the world. Although New Zealand itself wasn’t directly hit by war, people were still hostile to one another.”

“The world was a mess, people were vicious, and finally one day, someone set their sights on this place. They drove to the Sun-Never-Sets Territory, wanting to seize the land.”

“How many people? What were they?” the influencer asked excitedly.

Mackson sighed. “It was too long ago—I don’t remember how many. But I do remember they came in black cars. As for who they were, who knows? Violent cowboys? Bad boys? Thuggish Māori? All possible.”

“In short, they took the land by force. The noble family had gotten used to farming and ranching; they didn’t have strong fighters, so they couldn’t resist those criminals.”

“Then one day, those criminals suddenly vanished. Their cars—the strange black cars—vanished with them.”

“Some said the lord of the territory made a deal with the devil or something—offering the souls of every family member, in exchange for the devil taking away the criminals’ souls.”

“For many, many years after that, no one dared covet this land again. Even though the soil was rich and the resources plentiful. Because anyone who entered would encounter strange things—like ghost cars.”

“Legend has it that the ghost cars still wander here. Driving them are the bodies of those criminals whose souls were devoured by the devil. They roam the territory, searching for new souls to claim…”

At this point, Mackson suddenly turned around, raised his glass, and shouted:

“Happy Halloween, fellas! Welcome to the land of soul-harvesting!”

Wang Bo was startled by the sudden shout, and the influencer even yelled, “Oh my god!”

Mackson laughed like a child whose prank had succeeded, then staggered away with his glass.

The influencer looked at Wang Bo. “Mayor, do you think what that old man said was a story, or was it real?”

Wang Bo shrugged. “I think it’s a story. But I’m sure many things have happened on this land—mysterious things we don’t know about. Maybe those mysteries are what led to the ghost cars.”

As evening came, Highway 8 became lively. Motorbikes, sports cars, pickup trucks, off-roaders—vehicles of all kinds howled down the road, all searching for the ghost car.

But because the police were monitoring speed, there weren’t many speeding cars. If any vehicle sped, the sensors would take a photo, and the police would track it down.

Following in his car, Wang Bo saw a Hyundai SUV speed past like the wind. One look and he knew it was overspeeding. He immediately turned on the high beams and accelerated to chase it.

The light hit the SUV’s rear window—and a hideous ghost face appeared on the glass.

Wang Bo jumped, then immediately realized it was someone using the devil-face sticker—just like he did. He muttered to himself, “Damn it, I shot myself in the foot.”

He wasn’t the only one who saw it. Other cars noticed the ghost face too, and two more vehicles joined the chase.

This actually saved Wang Bo the effort of pursuing the violation. Many thought they’d found the ghost car and chased it wildly, eventually boxing the Hyundai SUV in and forcing it to stop.

Of course, the car wasn’t the real ghost car. The driver was a young punk with tattoos stretching from his body up his neck. When he lowered the window, he laughed wildly:

“Hahahaha! You idiots! I totally fooled you!”

Wang Bo showed his police badge.

The punk stopped laughing immediately.

More and more people began using devil-face stickers. Every day, countless cars on Highway 8 drove with various ghost faces and horror decals on their rear windows.

This attracted the attention of the New Zealand Traffic Authority. They were fairly humane though—considering Halloween was approaching, they said they wouldn’t punish the behavior for now, but also warned that it wasn’t encouraged and advised drivers not to violate traffic rules.

Wang Bo was quite happy with this outcome. With so many cars using the stickers, vehicle speeds on Highway 8 slowed down naturally—because drivers no longer dared to use high beams freely. Without high beams to illuminate the road, they didn’t dare drive fast.

At the end of October, under a cloudless sky, Halloween arrived.

New Zealand holidays weren’t very atmospheric. They lacked the sense of tradition. In Western countries, late October was deep autumn—cold winds, chilly nights, and people wore thick costumes to cosplay.

New Zealand, however, was hot. It was the beginning of summer. People couldn’t wear thick costumes; they could only dress lightly.

On Halloween, the temperature was especially high. After arriving at the office, Wang Bo immediately turned on the air conditioner. He stared bitterly at the golden, shiny armor hanging on the rack and muttered helplessly:

“This is so damn awkward.”

Dale wanted to ride the pumpkin carriage and be a princess. He had promised to be her royal guard, so he had ordered this mighty-looking armor online.

Of course, he thought the armor looked silly. It wasn’t chain mail or lamellar armor or anything a real warrior would wear—it looked like something out of Saint Seiya, ridiculously exaggerated.

The armor was made of plastic, silicone, and foam boards. Very light…but plastic, silicone, and foam were all excellent heat insulators!

Atulu laughed when he saw it. “Boss, no need to shower today. Wear that tonight and it’s basically the same as taking a hot bath.”

Wang Bo sneered. “Maybe. But I’m skinny—poor heat production. I bet even if you wore just a vest, you’d sweat way more than me!”

Atulu puffed up confidently. “Then let’s bet on it!”