Chapter 4 Sleep Powder

The porridge bowl seemed to have been left in its original place after uncle fed my little brother this morning, and there's still a bit of pale yellow wheat porridge at the bottom. This is much better than the usual porridge made with wheat mixed with bran that uncle and Ian ate.

The bowl itself definitely wasn't the focus; after all, it was just a wooden bowl. What mattered was what was inside.

"To actually have leftovers, this shouldn't be. Not to mention Elan's appetite couldn't possibly be this small, uncle's stingy nature wouldn't allow for waste, and if the child didn't finish, he wouldn't have leftovers, would he?"

Elan was the name of the little brother, given by the mother during her pregnancy, meaning skillful in battle.

That abandoned father who left his wife and children came from Canaan Moore, a quite powerful Sublimator mercenary, with half of an Elven Bloodline. The mother hoped that the children could inherit his strength.

Whether skillful in battle or not, Ian had no idea, but his little brother truly could eat; he always ate whatever amount there was, and would never have leftovers.

Confused, Ian picked up the bowl and looked closer, then frowned, "What's that smell?"

Intertwined with the scent of wheat was a strange floral fragrance, smelling very mild, somewhat like osmanthus, but a little more intense.

The fragrance evoked Ian's memories, and he suddenly recalled the streets of his hometown in the afternoon, with soft light spilling from the edge of the sky onto the earth. The trees lining the streets were shrouded in a hazy glow, and he could see dust rising and falling in the brilliance of the setting sun. The aroma of osmanthus was warm and tranquil, making one wish to fall into a peaceful sleep...

Phew.

Just as his eyes were growing heavy and he was about to fall asleep, Ian suddenly raised his left hand and bit down hard on his left thumb.

Although baby teeth were soft, it wasn't difficult to really bite through the skin when determined, and the piercing pain of ten fingers connected to the heart stimulated his nerves in an instant, waking the dozy boy with white hair. Cold sweat instantly covered his forehead.

"Su Boer Flower's refined Sleep Powder... The powerful sedative used by Native Hunters for hunting?!"

Clutching his fist, Ian stared at the porridge bowl in front of him, as well as the white-haired toddler on the bed beside it, who had remained deep in sleep and had not been awakened by Ian's actions.

Still tasting his own blood between his lips, the bloody taste brought Ian back to his senses and filled him with shock and disbelief, "Ossenna actually used this stuff to feed children? Those addicted to mushrooms really don't deserve to be Humans!"

No wonder Elan had been quiet and uncomplaining, too well-behaved, not at all like a typical two-year-old...

Nonsense, what child could cry and fuss after being fed with drugs.

Or rather, can a child even grow up if fed with this stuff?

Only by being fed such drugs could Elan become the offering for the Natives' sacrifices without crying or fussing.

After the anger came silence.

Holding the porridge bowl, Ian silently stood in place, deep in thought, with furrowed brows.

Although inside he could hardly contain his rage toward his uncle Ossenna.

But to be honest, he was also quite curious.

In this world, could there really be a floral fragrance so powerful that it could rapidly induce sleep just with the slightest residue?

In his past life, there were drugs that could achieve this effect, but none that were purely natural.

"It must be magic then? Or is it actually a kind of Spirit Energy Plant..."

Ian still remembered, those old classmates at the biological science academy always said that every living being itself is an extremely unique and detailed carbon-based factory, capable of producing many complex compounds that even modern bio-industries struggle to mass-produce.

But to get them to create this kind of fast-acting sleep agent was absolutely impossible in the short term.

The real biological factories were enough to kickstart the next technological revolution, but that wasn't the breakthrough direction for Earth's Humans.

This Sleep Powder would definitely be considered a rare commodity, something that the Hunters at the edge of the mountains desired. If it weren't for uncle's collusion with the Natives, selling himself as an intermediary, there's no way he could have obtained it.

"That's right."

Relaxing his brows, Ian had a sudden realization, "Not to mention allowing Elan to be sacrificed quietly, but just taking in the black mushroom extract alone, and needing to quickly fall asleep for it to take effect... This stuff is for Ossenna's own use."

"And he's too lazy to take care of Elan, and doesn't want his little brother to waste his money-making time, so he just lets this annoying brat sleep."

"Wait... own use..."

"Yes!" Speaking to himself up to this moment, Ian's gaze suddenly brightened, "There must be backup Sleep Powder in the house!"

Since this substance was a necessity for his uncle, and he couldn't carry it around all the time, there would definitely be some stored at home!

Of course, even if it were Ossenna, this despicable scum, he wouldn't brazenly place such a thing out in the open.

He would certainly hide the Sleep Powder well, at least somewhere that a child like Ian couldn't easily find.

Even if Ian was no longer the Ian of the past, finding the target without any clues would be extremely difficult.

But now, things were different.

Ian walked out of the room, his eyes lighting up with fluorescence once again.

Once again, feeling dizzy, the boy saw a glimmer of soft blue light shining conspicuously under the cupboard door and beneath the clay pot in the corner of his uncle's room.

Leaning against the wall, he smiled.

...

Scattered clouds let down shafts of sunlight, stirring the humid air with the wind.

On the edge of the immigrant district in Harrison Port, a not-too-old wooden and stone cottage—its neighboring streets filled with the earthy smell of post-rain.

The coastal summer rains were quick and fierce, taking only a mere ten minutes to become overcast, and another ten minutes to return to clear skies.

The brief downpour had cleansed the streets, making the grass vividly green and dusty windows clear. Now, as afternoon verged on evening, some dockworkers were already heading home from work or getting ready to tidy up for a different job.

In the setting sun, a tall and withered man with a limp walked silently down the street, his long shadow trailing behind him in the dimming light.

His cheeks were sunken, with a long beard, eyes narrow and slightly squinted, deeply set into his face, and the deep green of his eye sockets tinged with dark circles. The sickly shadows made it impossible to see his gaze clearly.

Even so, he could be considered handsome in appearance, if it weren't for his overly gloomy and unkind demeanor.

Though he limped, the man's pace was not slow, at worst just a bit halting.

It wasn't a disability, but a congenital malformation.

Below the shin of his right leg, it no longer resembled that of a Human—instead, a large, black-and-blue lump of flesh, covered with a hard shell, had taken the place of his foot. Swollen veins and sinews bulged from the shell, throbbing with his heartbeat as if something extraordinary was trying to emerge from within.

But due to a defect in the embryo, this cultivation failed, resulting in the current mutant tissue that was neither here nor there.

Such accidental malformations were common among the White Folks; neither the tribe members nor outsiders found it strange. Although they faced no discrimination, they were not allowed to marry or have children, to avoid passing on the deformity.

Ossenna was indeed a dull and cold-hearted man, always preferring not to show any emotions, his face eternally like a mask of dried expression. Naturally, not many were inclined to get close to him.

But he never caused trouble or used sharp words to mock others—toward his superiors, Ossenna was respectful and humble, which to a dock foreman was an undoubtedly excellent virtue. So his daily life was stable, with no one feeling the need for him to change.

That was exactly what he loathed.

Dock accounting? Were it not for his malformation, were it not for his family being exiled to the borders far from the Imperial Capital, were he gifted with Spirit Energy, if...

No matter what, he shouldn't be in this dull state.

He deserved a better life.

At that thought, a brooding anger began to rise in his heart—an animosity and resentment that even the blissful escape of Black Mushroom dreams, that one time of exhilarating and refreshing life, could not erase.

All he wanted now was to vent.

With that in mind, he looked up toward his house.

Narrowing his eyes, Ossenna saw a small white figure peering out from a window.

A white-haired boy with a bandage wrapped around his head stood cautiously at the window, looking out onto the street.

The boy had white hair and green pupils, his appearance clean and adorable, but his head was still bleeding slowly, staining the white bandage with a layer of dark red.

Obviously having seen his uncle, the boy exclaimed in alarm, retreating behind the window like a frightened little beast.

"Hmph."

Watching this scene, Ossenna dropped his head, chuckling darkly.

At this moment, his heart was filled with a perverse sense of achievement—someone feared him, dreaded him, shuddered at his thoughts. This was the only time he felt alive.

His nephew... ha, he was already looking forward to going home, to stand silently before him, waiting for the boy to nervously admit his mistakes.

Whether it was the silver coins hidden in the kitchen corner, the uncleaned toilet, or the firewood not chopped yesterday... any reason was just an excuse waiting to be found.

That kid would surely confess willingly.

And Ossenna wouldn't say anything, and he wouldn't forgive anything, because mistakes deserved punishment.

"Can't kill him, he can still be sold for money. The internal organs of an underage child, those forest folk would pay a high price... can't kill him."

Mumbling vaguely, his mood lifted, his pace even quicker. The brooding man entered his house with a satisfied smile.

He saw Ian standing at the door, anxiously waiting for his arrival.

"Very good..." Ossenna closed the door behind him with a backhand motion.

He was about to speak, but suddenly a package was flung at his face, blinding him instantly as the choking dust filled with a rich and familiar scent obscured his nose and mouth.

"Cough, cough!"

Ossenna momentarily couldn't grasp what was happening; it never occurred to him that his usually docile and frail nephew would dare to do something like this. And the scent was undoubtedly that of the Su Boer Flower Sleep Powder he used to mix with Black Mushrooms...

How could he possibly have found it...

As he quickly sank into deep unconsciousness, Ossenna saw Ian approaching, carrying the rope he usually used to tie smoked meat and a pointed garden fork that had clearly been sharpened.

A great unease and horror filled him, making him want to scream out loud.

But Ossenna didn't get the chance to continue thinking.

Among the potent aroma, he fell into a deep slumber.