Chapter 227

“If it causes hallucinations or self-harm,” Odalys mused, “any investigation would probably conclude that the individual was simply overwhelmed by life’s pressures, leading to a mental breakdown and, eventually, suicide.”

She nodded in agreement with Percival.

Percival’s voice grew darker. “Exactly. So, nurturing this poison—whether to eliminate someone or ruin their family and seize their wealth—would be alarmingly simple. It leaves no trace, and even the police would be powerless.”

The revelation chilled the group. The elderly man collapsed, his eyes fixed on the dirt. After a long, tense pause, he choked out, “What a sin! How could this happen? My wife wasn’t feeling well, so she returned here to recover. My daughter-in-law and grandson came back too. I was so busy with my own life; I hardly contacted them. All I knew was that after they returned, they seemed to be researching something out of boredom.”

“Is it related to this?” he asked frantically, his hands trembling.

Odalys had warned him days ago to reflect on his family’s deaths before their return. Now, with a clear mind, he understood.

“It’s not just your family,” Odalys continued. “Those who stayed in the village all met untimely deaths—either by illness or self-harm. After they died, their families returned, only to fall under Rafael’s control. Their tendons were severed, preventing them from contacting the outside world.”

The elderly man nodded, the truth dawning on him. Without Odalys’s reminder, he never would have connected the dots.

“Go find the villagers,” Odalys instructed. “Ask them if they want revenge. If they do, let them recall who they’ve had business dealings with in the past twenty years. Which families were their primary partners?”

The old man’s eyes burned with fury. “I’ll go now,” he said, leaving.

Percival watched him go. After a long silence, he turned to Odalys. “You suspect the villagers cooperated with wealthy merchants who became targets. Over time, they subtly poisoned fabrics and clothes, causing misfortune and ultimately transferring the families’ fortunes to the conspirators?”

Odalys nodded. “It’s hard to build wealth from scratch, or through honest work. If you can gain it easily, why not? It’s like your family,” she added. “After your father’s accident, it was only a matter of time before they turned their attention to you.”

Percival fell silent, his jaw tightening. He knelt slowly, his eyes on the crimson soil. His hand clenched into a fist. “Callum,” he finally said, his voice cold, “keep watch. Once they’ve compiled the list, get it to the investigators immediately. See if any families, like the Stewarts, have suffered strange tragedies.”

Callum nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

“I’ll help too,” Orson offered, moving to assist.

But Odalys stopped him. “Wait. Take some of the soil back with you. Get it tested.”

Orson blinked. “Do you need me to cover it back up afterward?”

Odalys produced a talisman, tossing it into the soil. “No need,” she said cunningly.

“Alright, I’ll handle it,” Orson replied, taking a box to collect some of the soil, with the old man’s son helping.

Once finished, Odalys turned to Percival. “Did you figure it out?”

Percival scanned the woods. “I noticed something when we saw that giant snake. You didn’t say everything before.” His eyes narrowed. “The poison is unique because they killed the venomous snake, extracted its venom, and combined it with other ingredients.”

Odalys stared, surprised. “You figured that out?” He didn’t need to stay; a few words from her, and he had pieced everything together.

“A smaller, heavily injured snake was treated by me. I found signs its venom had been extracted,” Percival continued. “I suspect Rafael is using the snake’s life and death to threaten the larger serpent. After all, the snake is old and mystical. The wicked energy in the clothes in your family’s water tank… it’s strong. And the source of that wicked energy… it’s here.” Odalys pointed toward the old house.

Percival’s lips tightened. After a pause, he chuckled bitterly. “So, your elaborate plan was to dig a pit for him to fall into, all while making him think you completely trusted him. But he slipped up.”

Odalys smirked but said nothing. They exchanged a knowing glance and walked back toward the village. The elderly man had gathered the villagers, who were listing their business dealings. Callum recorded the names while the investigation proceeded.

Soon, the elderly man stood hesitantly. “Ms. Stone, do you think this will still be useful now?”

Odalys’s expression was unreadable. Her silence spoke volumes. The man felt a chill and took a step back. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice shaky.

He felt a sharp pain in his wrist. His eyes widened as his tendon, which had been repaired, tightened and snapped. He screamed, dropping his pen.

The middle-aged man rushed to help, but a sharp pain struck his chest. He coughed up blood, collapsing, his body instantly aged.

“What’s happening? I thought I was healed…” he whispered weakly.

Odalys watched them with a detached gaze. “You were healed,” she said coolly, “but you touched something you shouldn’t have. You really did tell me the truth before, which made me believe you were genuinely the victims. But it wasn’t until yesterday, when you gave me those nuts, that I started to rethink my doubts.”