Roscoe continued, “Emerie had taken the serpent spirit with her. When we met in the hospital, the serpent spirit got excited at the sight of you. Emerie then arranged everything to ensure your capture."

This was Nicole's first time hearing such a bizarre story. Yet, considering the conversations she had secretly listened to between the white-haired chief and Emerie, she realized Roscoe was telling the truth. As hard as it was to believe, she could no longer deny the absurdity of the reality.

Roscoe added, “Emerie is next in line to be the chief. She claimed to be over eighty years old but maintained her youth through blood transfusions and pills made from parasites. They keep many Living victims here for their need to suck blood."

The depth of their insanity horrified Nicole. She asked, "What happens if the soul transfer doesn't work?"

Roscoe paused, visibly uncomfortable with the details. Nevertheless, he continued, “If it fails, they engage you in a special alcohol solution. If you survive an hour, your soul weakens, allowing the chief's soul to invade and replace yours. They consider that a success."

Nicole stood in stunned silence, her mouth gaping wide in disbelief.

These people were monstrously cruel, perpetuating a gruesome myth.

The idea of numerous people being exploited to preserve their youth was disgusting.

Roscoe added quickly, "These people aren't native to Ambrosia. Their ancestors came from a different country and secluded themselves in our mountains to carry out these heinous acts. They avoid interaction with outsiders, and many witches here are related, passing on their depraved rituals from one generation to the next."

The more Nicole heard, the more preposterous it sounded. Roscoe insisted, "You have to leave now. You can't take them on alone."

"No, we're leaving together," Nicole declared firmly. Roscoe had never left her side, and she wasn't about to leave him behind.

"I need to stop them once and for all," Roscoe finally disclosed his real plan.

"You're not going at this alone, Roscoe. We're breaking out of here and getting some backup. Then we're storming back in to deal with them!" Nicole's eyes blazed with determination as she laid out her plan.

"There's not enough time!" Roscoe scratched his head, his expression clouded with concern. "It's not that easy. Even if we make a run for it now, we'll run smack into the villagers I've got waiting for us halfway down the mountain. It's a three-day trek to safety. By the time we come back with reinforcements, a whole week will have passed, and those witches will have disappeared into thin air." At that point, the captives would likely have been silenced.

This presented a rare opportunity. The chief's body-switching ceremony had convened all the witches back to the valley, creating an ideal moment to eliminate them entirely.

“But the responsibility to eliminate them shouldn't rest solely with you," Nicole said. “How are you feeling? And what about your memory loss and sudden compliance?" She shot her questions.

Roscoe stayed quiet, realizing the impossibility of explaining everything in such a brief exchange. "Nicole, you must leave now. Immediately," he asserted firmly.

“No, we're leaving together," Nicole insisted, her resolve outmatching his own. She couldn't endorse a mission she deemed suicidal for someone she deeply cared about.

“Nicole, I'm staying." Roscoe's voice held firm, yet tinged with a hint of helplessness. He knew only one of them could make it out of there.

Nicole's voice softened into a plea. "Roscoe, please listen to me. We need to get help. You can't handle this alone. There are too many Gy and have control over the and those them, they serpents parasites.."