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

I watched as Marshall knelt there hysterically, tears streaming down his face.

Lynn, standing to the side, also felt terrible. She had known for a long time that Xida University was inhumane, but she never expected them to be this inhumane.

"actually……"

Mike, who was standing to the side, couldn't stand it any longer either. He looked at Lynn, then at Marshall and Bruce.

"I think the most important thing you should do right now is to run away."

"escape?"

Marshall looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Where can we escape to? How can we escape? In Seattle, at least we still have a house, and my mother's siblings can help each other."

"If we leave here, where can we go? I'm a black guy who didn't even finish junior high school, I don't have any skills except for my strength. Where the hell can I go with my mother, wife, and kids, leaving our hometown?"

"And they said they'd keep an eye on me! If I really try to run away, they'll definitely catch me and even my family. I don't want them to suffer because of me!"

His expression was filled with extreme anger and self-blame, feeling guilty for his inability to change this mess after such a misfortune.

"What skills do you have that you excel at?"

Looking at them, Lynn felt a deep sense of pity.

If it were in his previous life, he would probably have just laughed it off if he saw this.

After all, I am a student of East University. What does it matter to me if you students of West University are in a bad situation?

But things are different now. He is currently in this living hell, and the simple values ​​he has inherited from more than a decade of education under the red flag of Dongda University make him unable to bear such a human tragedy.

"Me? I don't have any skills... I, I dropped out of school in eighth grade, I..."

As he said this, Marshall lowered his head in great embarrassment, looking at his hands and rubbing the dirt off his fingernails haphazardly.

"Hey bro, aren't you fucking great at driving? You drive better than that fucking Willie T. Reebs (who became the first African American to test in Formula One in 1985), and you even said you were going to be a race car driver!"

Mike, who was standing to the side, couldn't stand it anymore and quickly spoke up for him, afraid that Lynn would think he had no use.

"But what's the use of that? All I have is a pickup truck that's been owned by who-knows-how-many people. It's older than me, even older than my mom..."

Marshall muttered to himself, appearing quite resigned and unwilling to accept defeat.

"Hmm? You drive well, and you even have a car? Okay, I've thought of something you can do for me... Alright, let's talk about how I can help you solve this problem."

Lynn is now homeless. Although he is a U.S. citizen, he is unable to buy a car through legal channels because he has long been bankrupt.

What's even more disheartening is that his predecessor had long since lost his driver's license somewhere.

Even if he manages to get a black cab now, he wouldn't dare drive it on the street. If he's stopped and asked to check his driver's license, he'll be taken in immediately, and all his efforts will be in vain.

This made life quite inconvenient for him in this country on wheels, as he had to walk everywhere he went.

This young black man, however, had a driver's license and a legal vehicle that, although old, was still drivable, which made things very convenient.

"Help me solve my problem? How can you possibly help me solve my problem? You're a homeless man yourself! Oh, sorry, I, I didn't mean that, Dr. Lynn... I just wanted to ask, how do you plan to help me solve my problem?"

He stared at Lynn in disbelief, his eyes wide.

Although the other party seems to be all-powerful and able to know everything about me through supernatural means, this is only an informational ability. How can it help me get out of the other party's clutches and allow me to continue living in Seattle?

"You don't need to worry about that. After I solve your problem, you'll need to work full-time for me, how about that?"

"Of course, of course, no problem, Dr. Lynn, oh no, boss! Just tell me what to do!"

Marshall repeatedly expressed his loyalty, and this devout Voodoo believer was also curious about what Lynn would do next.

……

Marshall and Bruce were comforted by Lynn, who told them to go home and wait for news, and not to show that they had discovered the other party's conspiracy. He said he would take care of everything.

"What do you plan to do, Lynn? Find the guy who arranged for Marshall to go to the clinic, and then use your witchcraft to curse and kill him and everyone in the clinic?"

Mike was also very curious; the story sounded like an urban legend straight out of a comic book, which gave him the creeps.

But Lynn's confident tone just now made him very eager to know how he would solve this problem.

"You really can't."

Lynn gave him a look that said, "Are you trying to push me into a fire pit?"

Then he took out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

"Beep~ Beep~"

The phone rang twice before someone answered, and a very clear, familiar voice came through the receiver.

"Hey? Lin... Boss? You need something? We're on a call right now. A woman on 19th Avenue called to say her husband is abusing her while drunk..."

Mike perked up his ears and listened carefully. He recognized the voice as that of Geller, the big guy who had just been accepted as one of the two corrupt cop henchmen by Lynn that morning.

At this moment, his voice on the phone no longer carried the same ferocity as when they first met, but rather a tone filled with awe and fear, clearly showing that he was already convinced of Lynn's abilities.

"I have something I'd like to ask if you can help me with..."

Just as Lynn finished speaking, two distinct gunshots rang out from the microphone!

"Oh, sorry boss, we just killed that drunk man. He was furious and even pulled out a shotgun to attack us... Oh, right, what did you just say?"

"..."

During the conversation, a life was lost under their guns, yet the other party remained so calm, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary that they had eaten a pizza for lunch. This left Lynn feeling a sense of absurdity and speechlessness.

"I wanted to ask about a Black friend of mine, who isn't homeless, who's recently run into trouble; someone's targeting him..."

Lynn carefully chose her words, reciting what she had prepared beforehand.

"But he can't leave Seattle for some reason, so... could you help him find a way to get protection? For example, could you claim he's a witness in a major case, and under witness protection laws, he'd be entitled to strict protection?"

The idea came from a movie Lynn had seen before called "Protect the Detective," which tells the story of Theo, a former New York mob boss who betrayed his organization and became an FBI informant, and was subsequently included in the witness protection program.

"A Black man? Boss, is he your new henchman...? Holy shit, what is this damn crazy woman up to? Didn't we eliminate the threat for her?"

"Bang, bang!"

On the phone, Geller was speaking when he suddenly exclaimed in surprise, followed by two more heavy gunshots!

At that moment, the phone seemed to fall to the ground, then was picked up again, making a clattering sound, and then the voice of another police officer, Vincent, came through:

"Hey boss, Geller ran into a little trouble... but he's safe now. Could you repeat what you just said?"