Chapter 4: sleeping powder

  Chapter 4 Sleep Powder

The porridge bowl was probably put on the spot after my uncle fed it to my brother in the morning, and there was still a little light yellow wheat porridge left at the bottom, which was much better than the yellow rice porridge that my uncle and Ian ate usually many.

  The bowl itself is definitely not the point, it is just a wooden bowl, what is important is what is inside.

   "There will be leftovers, it shouldn't be. Leaving aside Elan's appetite, it is impossible for him to have such a small appetite, and his uncle's miserliness can't be wasted. If a child can't eat it, he still can't eat it?"

  Elan is the name of the younger brother, which was given by the mother when she was pregnant, meaning good at war.

  The stepfather who abandoned his wife and son came from Canaan Moore. He was a powerful sublimator mercenary with half of the blood of the elves. The mother hoped that the child could inherit his power.

   Ian doesn’t know whether he is good at fighting or not, but his younger brother can really eat. He always eats as much as he has on weekdays, and there is absolutely no way to leave anything.

   A little confused, Ian picked up the bowl, he took a closer look, and then frowned: "What's the taste?"

  The wheat fragrance is mixed with a strange floral fragrance, which smells very warm, a bit like sweet-scented osmanthus, but a little stronger.

This fragrance brought back memories of Ian. He recalled the streets of his hometown in the afternoon for a moment. The soft light spilled from the edge of the sky to the earth. The flowers and trees on both sides of the street were shrouded in a hazy halo, and dust could be seen Floating up and down in the brilliance of the setting sun, the aroma of sweet-scented osmanthus is warm and peaceful, and I want to sleep peacefully...

   Poof.

   Just when his eyes were drowsy and he was about to fall asleep, Ian suddenly raised his left hand and bit his left thumb fiercely.

  Although the deciduous teeth are soft, it is not difficult to really make up your mind to bite through the skin. The pain of the ten fingers connected to the heart instantly stimulated the nerves, which made the drowsy white-haired boy wake up, and cold sweat covered his forehead in an instant.

   "Refined sleeping powder of Supor flowers... a powerful anesthetic used by indigenous hunters for hunting?!"

  Ian clenched his fists, staring at the porridge bowl in front of him, and the white-haired child on the bed beside him, who had not been awakened by Ian's movements, and was sleeping peacefully.

   There was still his own blood between his lips and teeth. The smell of blood made Ian sober, and he was shocked and unbelievable: "Ossenna actually feeds children with this thing? Mushroom suckers really don't deserve to be human!"

   It's no wonder that Elan has never cried or made a fuss, she is so well-behaved, she doesn't look like an ordinary two-year-old child at all...

   Nonsense, why can a child cry after being fed medicine.

   It would be better to say that after feeding this thing, can it really grow up?

   Only after feeding this medicine can Elan become the sacrifice of the natives without crying or making noise.

   After anger, there is silence.

  Handing the porridge bowl in his hand, Ian frowned and stood there thinking without saying a word.

  Although the anger towards Uncle Oceana in his heart was hard to contain.

   But honestly, he was also curious.

  In this world, there is actually such a little residual floral fragrance, pollen that can make people fall asleep quickly?

  Although there were medicines that could achieve this effect in the previous life, there were no pure natural ones.

   "It really is magic, right? Or is it actually a kind of spiritual plant..."

Ian still remembers that the group of old classmates in the School of Biological Sciences have always said that each life itself is an extremely unique and meticulous carbon-based factory with extremely high processing precision, which can produce many complex products that are difficult to mass-produce in the modern bio-industry. compound.

  But it is absolutely impossible for them to produce this quick-acting sleeping pill in a short time.

  The real bio-factory is enough to start the next technological revolution, which is not the breakthrough direction for human beings on earth.

   This sleep powder is definitely a rare commodity, and the hunters on the mountain side want it. If it wasn't for his uncle colluding with the natives and working his life as an intermediary, he would never be able to get it.

"Right."

   Stretching his brows, Ian also wanted to understand: "Let's not talk about letting Elan be sacrificed quietly, just say that after ingesting the black mushroom extract, you need to fall asleep quickly to take effect... This thing is for Ossina's own use."

   "And he was too lazy to take care of Elan, and he didn't want his younger brother to waste his money-making time, so he just let this annoying kid fall asleep."

   "Wait...for personal use..."

   "Yes!" Up to this moment, Ian's eyes suddenly brightened: "There should be a spare sleeping powder in the room!"

  Since this thing is a must for my uncle and cannot be carried with me, there must be a part of it at home!

  Of course, even a scum like Oceana, it is impossible to put this kind of thing on the table openly.

  He will definitely hide the sleeping powder very deep, at least in a place where a child like Ian cannot easily find it.

   Even if Ian is no longer the former Ian, it is extremely difficult to find the target without clues.

   But not now.

  Ian walked out of the room, his eyes glowing again.

   Once again dizzy, the boy saw, in the corner of his uncle's room, under the cupboard door and the earthen pot, a faint light blue fluorescent light suddenly lit up.

   Leaning against the wall, he smiled.

  …

  Scattered clouds leaked streaks of sunlight, and the humid air was blowing with the wind.

  On the edge of the Harrison Port immigration area, a half-new wooden and stone cottage, the streets on the edge of the old area are full of dirt after the rain.

  The summer rains along the coast are rapid and violent. It takes only ten minutes to be overcast and cloudy, and it will return to clear after ten minutes.

The short, quick rain has washed the streets, turned the grass green, and cleared the dusty windows. It's late afternoon, and some of the dockworkers have gone home from work, or are packing up for another job. .

  Under the setting sun, a lame, tall and skinny man walked silently on the street, the dim light dragged a long shadow behind him.

  His cheeks are sunken, he has a long beard, his eyes are narrow and slightly narrowed, deeply sunken in the eye sockets, and there is some blackness around the dark blue eye sockets, and the sick shadow makes it impossible to see his eyes clearly.

   But even so, he can be called good-looking, but he is too gloomy to be kind.

  Although he is lame, the man's walking speed is not slow, at most he is a little limping.

   Not a disability, but a congenital deformity.

The man's right leg below the calf no longer looks like a human being. A bluish-black sarcoma covered with a thick carapace replaced the original sole of the foot. Protruding blood vessels and veins protrude from the carapace, agitating with the heartbeat, as if To conceive, to produce something extraordinary from it.

  But because of the defects in the embryo, the conception was unsuccessful, so it became a deformed tissue like it is today.

   Such accidental distortions often appear among the white people, and both clansmen and outsiders are familiar with it. Although there is no discrimination, they are not allowed to marry wives and have children.

  Ossina is indeed a boring and cold man. He has never liked to show any emotions, and his face is always covered with a dry poker face like a mask. Naturally, no one wants to get close to him.

However, he never caused trouble, nor would he use harsh words to mock other people—this man is more respectful and polite to his superiors, honest and humble, and for dock supervisors, this is undoubtedly the best virtue, so He lived a stable life on weekdays, and no one thought he needed any changes.

   But that's what he hates.

  Wharf billing? If it wasn't for my deformity, if it wasn't for my family being sent to the frontier far away from the imperial capital, if I had spiritual talent, if...

  No matter what, I shouldn't be the boring look I have now.

  I deserve a better life.

  Thinking of this, gloomy anger rises from my heart. This is the hatred and resentment that cannot be eliminated even if I have a dream with black mushrooms and enjoy a hearty and refreshing life.

  He just wants to vent now.

  Thinking of this, he raised his head and looked towards his room.

  He narrowed his eyes and saw a small white figure looking at him by the window.

  A white-haired boy with a bandage on his head stood by the window, looking cautiously at the street outside the window.

  The boy had white hair and blue pupils. He looked clean and cute, but his head was still bleeding slowly, and the unhealed wound stained the white bandage with a layer of dark red.

  He obviously saw his uncle, so he exclaimed and retreated behind the window like a frightened little animal.

"Humph."

  Looking at this scene, Oceana lowered his head and smiled lowly.

  He's filled with a morbid sense of accomplishment right now—someone fears him, some people fear him, some people shudder at the thought of him—and that's the only time he feels as if he's alive.

  My own nephew...haha, he couldn't wait to go home, and without saying a word, he just stood in front of him, waiting for him to admit his mistake in fear.

  Whether it’s the silver coins hidden in the corner of the kitchen, the toilet that hasn’t been cleaned, or the firewood that hasn’t been cut yesterday...there are reasons everywhere for looking for it.

  That kid will definitely admit his mistake obediently.

  And he won't say anything, and he won't forgive anything, because he should be punished if he made a mistake.

  "It can't be beaten to death, he can also sell it for money, and those forest people will pay a high price for the internal organs of underage children...It can't be beaten to death."

   Talking vaguely to himself, he was in a good mood, and even walked a little faster. The gloomy man smiled and opened the door of his house with a sense of satisfaction.

  He saw that Ian was standing at the door of the room, waiting anxiously for his arrival.

   "Very good..." Oceana closed the door with his backhand.

  He wanted to say something at first, but suddenly a bag was thrown on his face, and his eyes were lost for a moment. The choking dust covered his mouth and nose with a strong and familiar aroma.

   "Ahem!"

Oxenna didn't realize what was going on for a while, he couldn't imagine that his nephew, who was always well-behaved and weak, would dare to do such a thing, and this fragrance was obviously the Supor Huamian he usually used with black mushrooms pink…

  How could he possibly find...

  Before quickly falling into the deepest slumber, Ossenna saw Ian walking slowly, bringing the rope he usually used to bind bacon, and a pitchfork that had obviously been sharpened.

  Great anxiety and fear rose in his heart, making him want to scream.

   But Oxenner had no chance to continue thinking.

  In the rich aroma, he fell into a long sleep.

  (end of this chapter)