Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

"Mr. Barnabas..."

"Lord Jesus, grant me the heart to pray, touch me with your hand, and strengthen me in all things..."

"Mr. Barnabas..."

"You are my salvation, the source of my life. In you, I find joy and hope. Even as I walk through darkness, your light always shines..."

Solomon exhaled deeply. 

He gave up. He figured that this vampire in front of him might be a bit mentally unbalanced. If the local legends and his investigations were correct, this vampire had been locked in a coffin underground for two hundred years. A little mental instability was understandable. He glanced at the Collins family sitting across from him. They showed no reaction to the vampire's behavior, and instead, offered Solomon some cookies. Even the wild Carolyn had relaxed, now just casually fiddling with her nails.

Only David Collins tried to stop Barnabas from praying but ended up getting dragged into the prayer as well.

"Young Master David," the vampire said, "I have already sold my soul to the devil. Only prayer can bring me to heaven now."

"Does he... do this often?" Solomon rejected the sweets offered by the Collins family and tapped his head, directing the question to them.

"Frequently. Whenever Victoria isn't around, he tends to act this way," answered the silver-haired Elizabeth, who didn't seem to mind Solomon declining the food. She spoke to him solemnly. "Before you came, many people claimed they could help us lift the curse. When our ancestor appeared before us, we knew the curse was real."

"The black magic in that book can only be undone by the Vishanti Book," Solomon shook his head. "But Ms. Elizabeth, my goal is to find that book, or any papers or volumes that contain its copied knowledge. That's my real mission."

"I can help you," Barnabas suddenly jumped up from the floor and, with an icy chill, swiftly sat beside Solomon. His movements were startlingly quick. "Angelique's collection has become relics and is kept in the museum. But this is Collinsport, built by the Collins family. I can help you retrieve those items, but..."

"Relics?" Solomon asked. "That leads to my first question—where is Angelique Bouchard?"

"She's dead," Barnabas said, pouting, eyes cast downward, his hands resting on his cane while his fingers twitched restlessly. "She died right here, falling victim to her own curse."

Seeing Solomon's confused expression, Barnabas began telling his story. "It was my fault," the vampire admitted.

It all started back in 1750. At that time, Joshua Collins and Naomi Collins brought their young son, Barnabas Collins (he pointed to himself), from England to the United States. They wanted to pursue a better life, and they established their fishing empire in a coastal town in Maine, naming it after themselves—Collinsport.

"Collins Manor was also built around that time," the vampire gestured around. "Though not this current version—it was rebuilt later. I assume you know that. The original Collins Manor took fifteen years to complete, and twenty years later, I had grown up."

Barnabas Collins was wealthy and powerful but also a notorious playboy until he made one grave mistake that he would regret for the rest of his life. As he spoke, the vampire stood and raised his hand as if knocking on something.

"I fell in love with a beautiful woman named Josette DuPres," Barnabas said with visible sorrow. "But in doing so, I broke Angelique Bouchard's heart, for I could not marry her."

Barnabas vividly recalled the gloomy weather of that day and the biting cold wind blowing in from the sea. That day, Angelique had used her powers to force Josette to leap off a cliff, where she shattered on the rocks below. Devastated, Barnabas followed her off the cliff as well.

"But she cursed me, condemning me to a fate worse than death!" The vampire waved his arms in agitation, pacing around the room, his shoes clicking rapidly against the marble floor. "Until the freezing seawater revived me. When I awoke on the rocks, I found Josette's body cold beside me, but my own hands had turned into sharp claws, and blood poured from my eyes. I had become a demon straight out of hell. I saw the witch standing atop the cliffs, shouting her curse upon me! I was thirsty—no amount of water could quench my thirst. I could no longer walk in the sunlight. Angelique cursed me to become a vampire, ensuring my suffering would never end."

"You know the rest," Barnabas continued, his tone slowing. "Angelique led the villagers with torches to Collins Manor. She accused me of being a demon, and they sealed me in a coffin and buried me underground."

"Two hundred years later, I was dug up and returned here."

"At the time, only Elizabeth believed in my identity. Of course, it wasn't just because my portrait was hanging in the parlor," the vampire gestured toward the wall, where his painting hung—one of the few items that had survived the fire. "Then, one day, a governess named Victoria Winters arrived at Collins Manor."

According to Barnabas, Victoria looked exactly like Josette. After returning to his family, Barnabas sold off the family's hidden treasures to help the Collins family rise again. He and Victoria developed mutual feelings, and everything seemed perfect.

"But your exact words were, 'She had the most fertile hips I've ever seen,'" Carolyn commented, without sparing her ancestor any dignity. Barnabas ignored her completely.

"But that witch! Angelique Bouchard learned of my return!" the vampire's emotions flared up again. "She founded Angel Bay and took control of most of Collinsport's fishing industry, driving the Collins family to the brink of ruin! She spread her hatred to the entire Collins family, wanting to see us all destitute! I couldn't stand it! And when she tried to repeat with Victoria what she did to Josette... I couldn't bear it!"

"In short, she tried to incite the townsfolk and the police to arrest me again, but we fought. Her skin shattered like glass, and in the chaos, Collinwood Manor caught fire, reducing the family's most important property to ashes."

"She's dead," Solomon remarked. "And yet, here you stand."

"Yes, she tore out her own heart—a heart like pink glass, filled with cracks," Barnabas said, his voice low. "I watched her heart shatter to pieces. She became as lifeless as a doll."

"Quite the story, Mr. Barnabas," Solomon replied, subtly raising his guard as he pulled a few sheets of printed paper from his pouch. Smiling, he addressed the vampire, "Now, can you tell me—how many of the murders were committed by you?"