When evil gods hold a meeting in my head

The young man was pinned down by the hammer, not daring to make any small movements or struggles. He could only turn his face to the side and gasp for breath, and each breath required a great deal of effort. His heaving chest rubbed blood from the muddy road.

Richard looked down at him and suddenly noticed... that there seemed to be powder leaking out of his chest.

He crouched down and took a look: "This powder...it's exactly the same as the one at the bottom of the balloon!"

Could it be that... when I tried to hypnotize this young man with the ring before, the hypnosis failed not because he was some kind of superhuman immune to hypnosis, but because of this powder!

This helped the young man counteract the effects of hypnosis.

As long as he has it on his body, the ring's hallucinogenic properties won't penetrate his mind.

This is a powder made from seabed stones that can isolate supernatural abilities. Its presence weakens or completely neutralizes any supernatural abilities.

These stones only appear on the seabed, which is why extraordinary individuals develop the habit of staying away from the ocean...

No wonder!

No wonder the other person only sneezed a few times after those mists passed by...

Richard stared at the pinch of powder and muttered to himself, "So if I just move the powder away, I can successfully hypnotize him?"

The young man seemed to notice Richard's odd behavior and asked in a panic, "What...what are you looking at?"

Richard ignored him, bent down, and reached into the young man's breast pocket to pull out the powder.

He took out a small bag, filled it with powder, and put it in his pocket.

Upon seeing the powder being taken away, the young man immediately cried out, "No...don't kill me...I'm Dansha Kuti, my father owns the biggest tavern here!"

"Oh?" Richard asked in surprise.

If that's the case, the other person should be able to live a wealthy life without any effort, so why would they do such a dangerous job?

Seeing Richard's somewhat doubtful expression, Dansha continued, "Don't you know the White Mud Tree Tavern? I'm the tavern owner's son! You can have as much money as you want, as long as you don't kill me, whatever you want... I can give you!"

"That's an overreaction... Am I that scary?" Richard chuckled, looking at Dansha's panicked face, becoming even more certain that his guess was correct...

This stuff is definitely key to resisting hypnosis!

Richard bent down, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers lightly.

pat!

Purple mist emanated from the ring and slowly drifted toward Dansha's nose.

As the mist entered Dansha's nostrils, his eyes began to glaze over.

Richard cleared his throat and said, "Dansha, do you still recognize me?"

Dansha paused, staring at him for a few seconds, the fear in her eyes slowly turning into confusion. That confusion was very real, like someone just waking up from a dream, unable to distinguish between dream and reality.

"Who...who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse and trembling slightly.

Richard said, "Don't you remember? I'm your father's business partner. Not long ago, we were sitting together in the White Mud Tree Tavern, discussing how to expand the tavern! I got your father so drunk he was completely out of control, and he ended up collapsing on the floor. You had to drag him back to his room."

Dansha frowned, staring intently at Richard's face as if recognizing a long-lost acquaintance.

He murmured, repeating, "Not long ago...?"

"Yes." Richard nodded, his tone certain. "That day you pushed the door open and saw us talking, your father even told you to leave first, don't you remember?"

Dansha's eyes looked even more confused.

"I...I think I vaguely remember..."

Richard continued, "Remember quickly, our time is precious. We still need to discuss the future of the tavern's expansion! I'm your uncle... Richard Curty! We're partners who came from the same family and are blood-related. I even held you when you were a little kid."

He gestured with his hand.

"Don't you remember?"

Dansha stared at him, her gaze growing increasingly unfocused and distant...

At the same time, he increasingly believed Richard's words.

"Richard Cutty..." he murmured, repeating the name over and over, as if forcing himself to remember it, "Uncle..."

"Yes." Richard pressed his advantage. "Last month, your father even took a carriage to visit me personally so I could help him. He stayed at my house all afternoon and drank several cups of tea. You must remember that, right? He also said he'd bring you to see me next time."

Dansha stared blankly at him, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't know what to say. His eyes were completely unfocused, empty, like a stagnant pool.

A few seconds later, he nodded.

"Well...it seems...there is such a thing..." he murmured, his voice barely audible, "My father...my father did say..."

Richard breathed a sigh of relief.

It became.

He continued, "As a junior, shouldn't you be more polite to your elders? The way you treated me just now, and the way you locked me in that courtyard, wasn't that inappropriate?"

Dansha lowered her head, her expression now completely filled with guilt. That guilt was very real, like a child who had done something wrong, afraid to look an adult in the eye.

He said in a low voice, his voice trembling with tears, "I'm sorry, Uncle! I... I didn't know it was you..."

Richard waved his hand, his tone softening: "Alright, alright, it's good that you remembered."

He reached out and picked up Dansha.

Dansha stood up, dusted himself off, and looked at Richard with a completely different expression, now filled with the awe and closeness of a junior meeting an elder.

He even gave Richard a somewhat ingratiating smile, revealing a set of slightly crooked teeth: "Uncle, who knocked me down with a hammer?"

Richard scratched his head: "Uncle didn't get a clear look at the other person's face either, but luckily I grabbed the hammer handle, so you weren't seriously injured! That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Ah, it really is!"

Dansha bowed gratefully, and a few seconds later, as if suddenly remembering something, he pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket, held it out with both hands, and handed it to Richard: "Uncle, this is for you."

Richard took it and glanced at it. The bag wasn't big, but it was heavy, containing a dozen or so gold coins that glittered in the sunlight, almost blindingly so.

"This is……"

"This is the money I have on me," Dansha said sincerely. "I offended you earlier, Uncle, and caused you to be trapped in the yard. Consider this an apology. Please don't think it's too little. If it's not enough, I'll go to the tavern to get more."

Richard glanced at him and put the cloth bag into his pocket.

"Okay," he said. "I'll take it."

He paused, then asked, "By the way, tell me more about Puta."

Dansha nodded and began to speak. This time, he didn't hide anything and told everyone he knew.