I work as a sorcerer in the US, and my side hustle is building Gundams.

Although he could see the other person's fate directly, Lynn still muttered incantations and made what he called a prayer gesture.

"The sun sets in the west, its glow a fiery red; the soldiers return to camp after target practice..."

I'll still speak in Sichuan dialect, and I guarantee no one on site will understand me.

There's no other way; if we just say it directly without this formality, people will feel it lacks a sense of ceremony and say it's fake.

After a while, he stopped what he was doing.

"So, after communicating with Loa, did you figure out what I'm going through right now?"

Marshall and his mother were devout followers of Haitian Voodoo.

My mother still keeps a lot of prayer feathers and tortoise shells at home. She prays for blessings from some Loa whenever she has a reason.

But it was obvious that Mom's skills were not up to par, and there was no way for Loa to bless this poor family.

"I have already seen your destiny, Marshall Carter."

Lynn didn't hesitate and directly gave the other person's name.

"What? You actually know my name, Bruce? You didn't tell him my name, did you?"

Marshall's eyes widened immediately. He pointed at Lynn and asked his childhood friend beside him.

"No, absolutely not!"

Bruce was also shocked, staring at Lynn with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"Your mother is sick in bed, you have a younger brother and sister, and you recently started dating a girl who told you she gave birth to your son."

Lynn hesitated for a long time, but finally decided not to tell him that the son was not his biological child.

After all, he is a person who respects others, so don't interfere too much in other people's affairs.

"What's bothering you is a medical trial. They claim there's a worm called a brain worm eating your brain, and if you don't take their medicine, you'll die, right?"

"Oh my god, how do you know so much detail? My God, you're a real witch doctor!"

Marshall finally believed it!

He hurriedly knelt down, raised his hands high and bowed to Lynn, just as he would at home with his mother to pray to the Loa, the god of voodoo.

"Yes, witch doctor, that's what they told me, and then they gave me a lot of money. But I don't feel at ease holding that money. I always have a strange feeling. Every time I go to them, I feel like they look at me like I'm an object, or even a dead person. There's no warmth in their eyes!"

"Even when they smile at me, it's a fake smile! Have you ever seen those mannequins in shop windows? Yes, that's the kind of smile they have! Polite, considerate, but devoid of any human emotion or warmth! It's unsettling to look at!"

Now the little black boy finally found someone to confide in, and he grabbed Lynn's shoulder and began to talk non-stop, just like a Christian entering a confessional.

"Alright, alright, sit up, stop for a moment, and listen to me."

Lynn, being a native of the East at heart, was not used to people kneeling and bowing to him so respectfully, and quickly helped Marshall up.

"Marshall, do you believe in Dambala, the god of intelligent life and water?"

"Yes, of course I believe him. My mother and I both believe him. What's wrong, witch doctor?"

"Dambaranoa just told me that what you experienced was a complete scam. There are no worms in your brain. There's nothing wrong with your body; they just need..."

Lynn racked her brains, trying to figure out how to tell this cruel truth to the poor little black boy in front of her.

"No brain worm? What the fuxk? I knew they were lying to me, I knew it!"

Marshall jumped up angrily, pointed in the direction of the clinic and started cursing. Bruce joined in the cursing, having witnessed his childhood friend's recent torment and feeling anxious for him.

"Hey, don't let me see them again, or I'll teach them a lesson, and I mean it! By the way, you said you just needed something, what do you need? Witch doctor, is there some kind of conspiracy involved?"

After a long while, he calmed down and looked into Lynn's eyes again.

"They just need someone to help them test the efficacy and side effects of new, unfinished drugs that haven't passed the drug testing and regulatory requirements..."

Lynn sighed deeply, then spoke with a tone full of pity about what he knew.

"The blue potion they gave you is to make you sick, and the pink potion is to cure the disease... It has very strong side effects. If this continues, you will die a violent death in six months."

"Then they'll use all sorts of methods to get your body to their partner medical school for dissection, and then conduct pharmacological analysis to improve their new drugs..."

Before Lynn could finish speaking, Marshall was already furious!

"Damn bastards, I knew they were up to no good!"

"They approached me at the restaurant, told me I met their criteria, and then tried to force $5000 into my hand. I knew they had ulterior motives!"

Marshall recalled the absurd scene he had witnessed three months earlier, and a surge of anger rose within him, while a chill ran down his spine.

"Mr. Witch doctor, are you telling the truth? Are they really that bad?"

Bruce, who was standing nearby, was also shocked!

He had previously encountered a similar person at a fast food restaurant who approached him and offered him $2 as a thank you if he cooperated with them to do some tests and have his blood drawn.

However, being naturally suspicious, he rejected the offer on the spot, and later even regretted it a little.

But now, seeing his old friend's situation, he felt a mix of relief and lingering fear.

"No, I have to get revenge on them! I'll show them that the black people of Seattle aren't the weak and cowardly wimps they think they are!"

Marshall slapped the $500 bill he was holding into Lynn's hand, then grabbed Bruce and turned to rush out the door.

"Hey bro, you're being too impulsive. You can't beat them!"

Fortunately, it didn't happen to him, and Bruce still retained some rationality. He desperately dragged Marshall away to prevent him from rushing out.

"If you hadn't found out about this, you might still be alive. But if you went directly to them, I might see a hearse collecting your body on the street tomorrow!"

"What are we going to do? Just let them, these despicable white pigs, bully us blacks like this? Ah, sir, I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about those despicable, inhuman capitalists!"

His interruption eased Marshall's anger somewhat. Indeed, he was penniless, powerless, and knew no important figures.

He said he wanted revenge, but he couldn't say how.

"I... I can get a gun! I know where to get one, and then next time I run into that damn guy and that doctor, I'll just shoot them both!"

He angrily swung his fist, his dark forehead covered in bulging veins.

"And then what? Then, when their people arrest you, send you to prison, and execute you, won't you just become a corpse they use for experiments on their operating table?"

Marshall grabbed his neck hard and yelled at him through the ear.

"You have younger siblings, you have a wife and kids! FUXK you NGer! Think about your child, he's just a fucking baby, do you want him to lose his father so early? Huh? Do you?"

After a barrage of angry words, Marshall was finally persuaded to stop.

At that moment, he squatted down, his hands cupping his head, his shoulders trembling, as if he were about to cry.

"Shit! What am I supposed to do? Tell me, what am I supposed to do? I... I don't want to die, I don't want to lose my mother and my child, but what can I do now? You fucking tell me what to do!"