Chapter 141 The Witch's Counterattack (Part 1!)

"Where did you go yesterday?" Coulson seemed to be paranoid about this question, he was eager to know where Salomon went last night. But when the mystic saw the bloodshot eyes of the agent, he thought it was a sign of Agent Coulson's concern for his companions, so he comforted Coulson and let him take a good rest, so that he could finish the job by himself. But Agent Coulson seemed to be a little bit reluctant, and kept breathing while asking this question. It wasn't until this time that Salomon realized that something was wrong. "What's wrong?" he asked, "What exactly do you want to ask?"

"Were you...in the small town last night?" Coulson swallowed, and asked a question nervously. After getting Salomon's affirmative answer, he showed some mixed emotions of joy and fear. This made the mystic even more confused, he didn't understand what happened here at all.

The agent seemed even more tense when he questioned Coulson.

"I think this may be my hallucination." He lowered his voice, afraid that these words would pass through the thin wall and reach other people's ears. "It's weird, but magic exists, and I can only believe in the weirdest things. I had a nightmare. I dreamed that a storm was blowing outside the window, and the hailstones fell on the window lattice. I dreamed of the ghosts in the forest. There was a huge bonfire in the clearing, and blue, purple, and orange smoke rose through the leaves and rose into the sky, but it lingered. I also dreamed of several cloaked figures - vaguely looking like women - —they chanted prayers that I could not understand in hoarse voices, and I dreamed that the girls we had seen fell to the ground pale, and I dreamed that there was a black man holding two smoking wooden sticks. Pile, he is eating their souls. I seem to stand aside, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to do anything, until the black man looked at me with those evil eyes, I didn't notice the twinkle in his eyes What is more cruel and ironic, he seems to be laughing at me, laughing at my good deeds.

When I woke up, I heard the rat's movement. I know that rats are rampant in this era, but what I heard was the movement of many rats. I definitely heard it right. Even if I didn't light the candle, I could guess that they were shuttling between the gaps in the wall. I heard I heard the rattling of their paws as they whizzed past just behind the thin wooden wall. Not only on the walls, but also in the ceiling, there are countless groups of mice passing by. They seem to want to scratch through the wooden boards and enter the room. I can even feel the slight but frequent vibration and friction when I touch the wall, I think they want to come in, want to..."

"Hey!" Salomon had no choice but to pat Coulson's face hard, interrupting his crazier soliloquy. He knew that Coulson had some mental problems, probably because the scene of the witch trial had shaken his mind a little, which made him see something he shouldn't have seen. "Be sober, Coulson, be sober," he said. "Don't think about it, absolutely not, you're going to go crazy. If you can't calm down, I'll give you a tranquilizer."

"I'm telling the truth! I...sorry, my reaction was a bit extreme...maybe I'm too tired." Coulson blinked hard, rubbed his face, and regained his composure. This was the result of Salomon's spell. He used the spell to divert Coulson's attention to reality, but he still unconsciously moved away from the wall, as if the group of rats might jump out and bite his flesh at any time. Agent Coulson said, "Do you have any tasks for me? But before that, I think it would be better to bring Agent Romanov back first."

"I will hand over all the gold I have to you later. You need to gather people to build something." Salomon pulled out a piece of parchment from the scroll box, on which was drawn a pattern of an altar. The mage marked the detailed parameters on this pattern. "I'm going to ask you to help me find a stone tower that is at least 10 yards high, and then find someone to help me build this thing on top of the stone tower. I'm afraid that people in the small town of Salem will not be able to leave the quagmire of the witch trial for the time being. You can Go to the village of Salem in the west to gather people, where it is relatively peaceful. Before I finish solving the mastermind, this altar must be completed. It must be built according to the data on the map, and this stone tower is to be built in In the open wilderness—it's not easy, you can't do it by yourself."

"Okay." Coulson took the parchment and looked at it carefully. He asked, "What is this for? Are you trying to perform some kind of magic?"

"Yes, magic that can solve all problems." Salomon sighed, "I will find the magic material (sacrifice) myself - you don't need to know what the magic material is, that's my business. Also, About Tituba."

"how?"

"We can send her back to Randolph Carter's mansion." Salomon said, "Mr. Carter promised that he would settle Tituba well. But you know, this trial will involve many people, you It's impossible to save everyone - Plessy Farm is now vacant, so maybe you could use it."

"Thank you," Coulson said. "Thank you for everything."

"It's nothing, I'll pick Natasha back, you need her help."

When Salomon followed the address given by Coulson to Natasha's stalking place, there were gradually more people on the street, but most of them were men. In addition, there are also King's Army armed with muskets patrolling the streets - due to the outbreak of witch cases in the area, the governor asked Cotton Mather to maintain law and order to ensure that witches cannot appear on the streets openly.

It's one thing to order, but it's another thing to actually implement it. Cotton Mather, at the suggestion of Matthew Hopkins, asked the King's Army to randomly search for witches on the streets. However, since the reign of Charles II in 1661, the ranks of the king's army have become commodities. The ranks of the cavalry and infantry regiments (from second lieutenant to colonel) can be purchased. Many nobles will buy a rank for their worthless children. Coupled with the fact that most of the King’s Army comes from the lowest class in the UK, they are the scum of the entire British society (Duke Wellington’s words), so naturally they cannot be expected to have high military discipline (although their combat effectiveness is not bad)-they will immediately appear on the street. Arresting women while the men around applaud because those women are most likely witches, devil-inviters, and they can't wait to see more hanged.

Salomon frowned, and walked into the dark and cold alley without being noticed by others. Although he is not afraid of guns when he is prepared, and he is capable of killing all the king's army, but now is not the time to cause trouble. To the surprise of the mystic, when he reached his destination, he found no sign of Natasha—this is an alley that few people pass by, and usually only drunks and drug addicts will come and go here. It is exactly the same as the United States three hundred years later. The mystic mage looked around—there were no traces of fighting, and the footprints here were not messy. He could easily distinguish which were Natasha's footprints and which were those of a drunk.

Natasha was not arrested (the mystic did not believe that the king's army was capable of capturing her), but left here by herself. This made Salomon a little puzzled, because Natasha's mission was just to follow, not to act. The mystic master poked his head out of the alley, and across the street was where the four witches were located. Coulson's intelligence work was done very well, and Salomon was even able to know the routine of the four girls from the report. But when the girls were supposed to be there, they were nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, the mystic heard a small grinding sound behind him. He turned his head suddenly, and saw a mouse staying on the low eaves—this mouse had human hands and feet and a man's face. There was a long scar under its left face. With a wicked smile on his face.

That is the Human Face Mouse, the witch's magic pet! The mystic felt that something was wrong, Coulson and Natasha might have been exposed to Nyarlathotep, and as the leader of the Witch Cult, the Dark One might command the Witch to deal with it. Let them do it! Although Salomon believed that Natasha would not give in so easily, the mystic had no idea what magic those witches possessed.

Just as he drew out his Magic Missile wand and was about to cast a spell, the mouse jumped from the eaves and fell into the gutter filled with black sewage and silt. The mystic chased it all the way, and accidentally stepped on two drunks, but the speed of the human-faced mouse was so fast that Salomon lost it in a blink of an eye.

"F*uck!" The mystic clenched his fists angrily, he only hoped that Natasha didn't really meet the witch, or that she escaped fast enough. He caught a glimpse of a stray dog ​​on the road—this was the material he needed to cast the spell, and it seemed that he could only do so at the moment.

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