When evil gods hold a meeting in my head

Dansha patted the dust off his clothes, then rubbed his back, which ached from being pressed by the hammer, before speaking:

"Puta... is from Metz. I heard he went to university and even got a teaching job there. He's a true intellectual... He wears glasses and has a long beard. Although he looks a bit sloppy, he's much more particular about his clothes than most people here."

Richard nodded, signaling him to continue.

"He went straight to the White Mud Tree Tavern as soon as he arrived," Dansha said. "My dad's tavern is the biggest in the area, and merchants and sailors who come and go all love to drink there. After Puta arrived, he talked to my dad for an afternoon, saying he wanted to cooperate."

"What kind of cooperation?"

"We're going to open a pub together," Dansa said. "He said he wants to build the world's largest chain of pubs, starting with one in Bis North Port, then expanding to other parts of Gedah City, and finally to Metz City, and then to the capital."

Richard was taken aback for a moment.

A chain of pubs? The largest in the world? That sounds so unbelievable.

Dansha seemed to sense his doubt and continued, "My father didn't believe it at first either, thinking this person was out of his mind. But Puta immediately took out the money he had invested—several boxes of gold coins, piled up there, and when he opened the boxes, the whole room was filled with golden light."

"Several boxes?"

"Yes." Dansha gestured, "There were about this tall of chests, four or five of them, all filled with gold coins. My father had never seen so much money in his life, and he agreed on the spot."

Richard did the math in his head. Several boxes of gold coins—that was no small sum. Where would a university professor like Putat get so much money?

"And then?"

"Then they partnered up," Dansha said. "Puda provided the money, and my dad provided the manpower and labor. They took over all the shops next to the tavern, knocked them down, and renovated them. During that time, the tavern was constantly clanging and banging, it was incredibly noisy."

He paused, then said, "We've been working together for about a month when Puta suddenly told my dad that he wanted to blend a new kind of wine."

"New wine?"

"Yes, it's said to be a bitter but invigorating drink," Dansha said. "He even wrote out a recipe, a really long one."

Richard's heart skipped a beat.

"Do you still have the recipe?"

"Yes." Dansha nodded. "My dad treasures it. Puda said it's his family's secret recipe and can't be passed on to outsiders, but my dad secretly made a copy."

Richard looked at him.

"Have you seen that recipe?"

Dansha nodded, then shook his head: "I only glanced at it, didn't look closely. It was full of strange things written on it, like tree bark, grass roots, and a few drops of fish tears... I've never heard of any of these."

Tree bark. Grass roots. Fish tears.

Richard's mind raced.

This isn't a cocktail recipe, it's a magic potion recipe.

Pudda wasn't actually mixing drinks; he was collecting potion ingredients. He used investing in the tavern as a front, leveraging the White Mud Tree Tavern's local influence to gather items he couldn't find elsewhere.

"Did the recipe specify the exact quantities?" Richard asked.

Dansha thought for a moment and nodded: "It's written down. The amount of everything is written down clearly. I thought it was strange at the time, it's just mixing drinks, not preparing medicine, why do you need to be so precise?"

Richard remained silent.

It really is a magic potion recipe.

Puta came to the North Port of Beth, supposedly to find the antidote, but it seems he's looking for more than just the antidote; he's also searching for ingredients for potions. Why is a professor who does experiments so interested in potions?

"Did he manage to get it sorted out?" Richard asked.

Dansha shook his head: "I don't know. During that time, he locked himself in his room all day and wouldn't let anyone in. When he did come out occasionally, he looked unwell, like he hadn't slept for days."

He paused, then suddenly lowered his voice: "Later...later he died."

Richard stared at him.

"How did he die?"

Dansha's expression changed, as if he had remembered something unpleasant.

"I went to call him for dinner that day," he said. "He was staying at my house, and my dad asked me to look after him. I knocked on the door for a while, but no one answered, so I pushed the door open and went in. He was lying in bed, covered with a blanket. I thought he was sleeping, so I went over and lifted the blanket..."

He stopped.

Richard waited for him to continue.

Dansha took a deep breath and continued, "When I pulled back the covers, I found him lying there, his eyes rolled back, and his mouth cracked and bleeding! I remember I was so scared that I almost fell down the stairs..."

"It sounds like poisoning..." Richard said.

Dansha nodded: "Yes! Uncle, you're amazing! His face at the time... looked exactly like someone who had been poisoned. But he hadn't offended anyone before he died, so no one should have poisoned him. Later, we called in the patrol officers, but they couldn't find any toxins... so we could only close the case as suicide..."

suicide?

Richard chuckled; this was the funniest joke he'd ever heard! Puta was a madman who would stop at nothing to pursue God, and he'd do anything to live and witness his ideals. How could he possibly commit suicide?

"Before he died," Richard asked, "did he say anything? Or leave anything behind?"

Dansha thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered something: "Yes! He left a letter."

"letter?"

"Yes, it was on the table by his bedside," Dansha said. "There was writing on the envelope, it seemed to be... a letter addressed to someone. My father read it and then put the letter away, not letting me see it."

Richard stared at him.

"What did the letter say?"

Dansha shook his head: "I really don't know. My father won't let me see it. He only said that the letter is very important and should be kept safe."

He paused, then added, "But my dad later mentioned that the letter was written to someone named... what was his name again..."

He frowned, trying hard to remember.

"I think his name is... something... Ali?"

Richard's heart skipped a beat.

Alice.

Was Puta's letter addressed to Alice?

But Alice was already dead.

He stared at Dansha, his voice tense: "Are you sure it's Ali?"

Dansha scratched his head: "I'm not sure, I only heard my dad mention it once. It could be Ali, or Ali... anyway, it sounds like that."

Richard took a deep breath.

Alice!

Puta left a letter for Alice. What does this mean? Does it mean he knew Alice would come looking for him? Or does it mean there's some connection between them that he's unaware of?

He remembered the box Alice had left behind, the turquoise necklace, the sewing machine, and the potion recipe. What exactly was the relationship between Alice and Puta?

"Where is that letter now?" he asked.

Dansha said, "It's with my dad. He locks it in the cupboard and won't let anyone touch it."

Richard looked at him.

"Take me to see your father."

Dansha paused for a moment, then nodded: "Okay, Uncle's word is law."

He turned and walked deeper into the alley.

Richard pulled Rosalie along and followed. Thales followed behind, jogging all the way.

Sunlight streamed into the alley, casting dappled shadows on the ground... In the distance came the sound of waves crashing against the pier, and the shouts of vendors hawking their wares.