I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

After a brief exchange, Evan's identity was officially registered in the police system.

When he returned to the counter, he had a small, dark blue notebook in his hand.

The cover is made of soft cowhide, with the Miskatonic University crest embossed in gold.

Opening the inner pages, the first page is a temporary photograph of him, taken by Armitage just now with an old-fashioned shutter camera.

Below is his name, age, and registration date.

Turning to the next page, one finds a dense array of stamps from the City Hall and the New Haven Police Department.

Ivan gently stroked the edge of the small notebook with his thumb, a sense of indescribable peace welling up inside him.

Legal status.

Legal possession of firearms.

Legal access to files.

For a poor student from the bottom of society, this little blue notebook represents a leap in his status!

After their identities were processed, the three of them went up to the second floor together.

Armitage's office is located on the west side of this small building.

The windows face the central green space, where the light is soft.

The office furnishings, like the old gentleman himself, were simple, clean, and everything was in its proper place.

One wall is a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, crammed with all sorts of leather-bound books and scrolls.

On the other wall hung a yellowed old map, marked with place names Ivan had never heard of before.

At the very heart of it is a small town, circled in red, called Dunwich.

Armitage sat behind the dark oak desk.

He extended his hand to Ivan after Ivan sat down.

It was a small bag that looked to be made of thick cowhide.

"This is?"

Ivan took it with a puzzled look.

Armitage smiled.

"Open it and take a look."

Ivan bent down and untied the thin string at the top of the bag.

There were four small glass bottles neatly arranged inside.

Each bottle was wrapped and secured in soft cashmere fabric, sealed with wax, and had a small handwritten label on the cap.

"Potion?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

Armitage nodded.

"Consider this a perk for your generation of new witchers to get started."

His voice carried a hint of proud gentleness.

"The University of Michigan is the only university in the world that offers formal degrees in mysticism and alchemy."

"Sixty percent of the potions consumed by your lineage of witchers today are provided by us."

He nodded toward the bag.

"It can save your life in a critical moment."

Hill then stood beside Evan, his tone unusually solemn.

"Evan, let me formally introduce you."

"Dr. Henry Armitage. A legend of the University of Michigan! A guardian of truth! A true hero of humanity! A legendary investigator!"

She looked directly into Evan's eyes.

“He is a truly steadfast and righteous master. My senior brother and I have absolute trust in him.”

"If you ever encounter anything that defies common sense in the future, you can come and consult the doctor."

Armitage was a little embarrassed by the straightforward praise. He laughed and waved his hand.

"That little girl has such a sweet tongue."

He leaned back in his chair.

"I'm old."

He looked out the window at the central green space.

"It's your world now, the world of young people."

Chapter 68: Curse Removal and Amulet

After hearing about the old man's many titles, Ivan felt genuine admiration.

He took a deep breath, put the bag into his suit pocket, and then spoke.

"Doctor. I discovered something on my way here."

He sat up straight and recounted, word for word, how Alcott controlled the female students and how the Phoenix Brotherhood operated.

As Armitage listened, his brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

After Evan finished speaking, he tapped the table lightly with his knuckles.

"The Theosophical Society..."

He sighed.

"We have also received some updates about them."

"They are indeed conducting research related to the Old Gods."

He adjusted his reading glasses.

"Have they already started using their abilities to control civilians...?"

"I can guess what will happen next with my own two feet."

The old man's voice carried a heavy weariness, a weariness born from having experienced too much.

Then he snorted coldly.

That groan carried a suppressed killing intent belonging to an old soldier, something he had held back for many years.

“Those capitalists don’t care.”

He squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth.

"We'll take care of it."

He raised his head and looked directly at Evan.

Those old, cloudy eyes suddenly became as sharp as an old sword drawn from its sheath.

"My faction."

He spoke slowly.

"The principle is to avenge wrongs and settle grievances."

"Only in this way can one remain steadfast and focused when facing true fear."

"Since he has a grudge against you, that's perfect."

He tapped the table with his finger.

"Arkham".

"You're in charge of investigating this line."

He paused for a moment.

"I'll cover for you."

Ivan straightened his back slightly.

"Remember this."

Armitage softened his tone again.

"Don't harm ordinary people excessively."

Ivan paused for a second before asking a question that truly concerned him.

"What if those guys he controls attack me like madmen?"

Armitage countered with a question.

"Does that still qualify someone as an ordinary person?"

Ivan grinned.

"Of course not."

Armitage nodded in satisfaction.

"An apprentice-level cultivator cannot permanently control a person's desires. The effect lasts for a maximum of 6 hours, and a maximum of 6 people can be controlled simultaneously."

He tapped the table with his knuckles.

"Under these circumstances, he was still able to gather so many people around him..."

"This shows that they are not all simply victims."

Hill sneered and uttered four words.

"Each has their own ulterior motives."

Evan nodded thoughtfully.