"Nicole, my ambitions are mine alone. They're not your burden to carry. Taking control of the Watts family is my desire, and everything I've endured is just the price I've paid. If I hadn't been so driven by wealth and power, maybe I wouldn't be in this mess,"

Roscoe uttered these white lies to lift her mental burden, his voice carrying a tone of resigned acceptance.

Nicole wasn't convinced by his words. She knew better. When Roscoe was abroad, he had already earned a salary in the millions. The Watts family might be affluent, but he had never been one to indulge excessively in Luxuries. She realized he was trying to reassure her, to encourage her to leave, but she couldn't just walk away. Her conscience wouldn't allow her to leave him behind.

Suddenly, rustling sounds emerged from the distance.

Roscoe's face tensed, his eyes sharp with alertness. He pushed Nicole and urged, "Go! Now!"

He recognized the sound all too well. It was the slithering of serpents. If the serpents were nearby, the witches wouldn't be far behind.

Nicole clasped Roscoe's arm tightly. "We're leaving together."

The hissing grew louder. Roscoe knew they couldn't afford to hesitate anymore.

Roscoe nodded. "Fine!"

Yet, the next moment, with a loud splash, Nicole was pushed into the water, disappearing into its murky depths.

Before Nicole could even begin to react, she found herself forcefully shoved into the water, plunging into the depths below where a swift drainage channel awaited, swiftly carrying her away in its current.

Roscoe had orchestrated this with meticulous precision. His knowledge of the drainage channel's location, coupled with Nicole's swimming capabilities, which he had personally honed, were key elements in his plan of sending her away.

During their time in the village, Roscoe had dedicated himself to teaching Nicole various survival skills, including swimming, archery, basic combat, and self-defense techniques, ensuring she was equipped to navigate perilous situations.

As the water rushed around her, Nicole could faintly discern the frantic voices of witches from the shore, intermingled with a man's pained groan, before a profound silence enveloped her surroundings.

Fear gripped Nicole's heart as she realized that Roscoe's sobriety might have been exposed. Despite her efforts to swim against the powerful current, she soon found herself overwhelmed by its force.

The mountain's drainage channels were akin to raging torrents, particularly during the rainy season, rendering even the strongest swimmers helpless against their might.

Exhausted and defeated, Nicole reluctantly surrendered to the current, allowing it to dictate her course.

When she finally dared to open her eyes once more, she discovered herself nestled within the confines of a humble straw hut. Panic surged within her, fearing she had fallen back into captivity.

A senior man with a gentle countenance approached. "Young lady, are you awake? Would you care for some water?" he inquired, offering her a bottle with sincerity shining in his eyes.

He bore the unassuming appearance of a mountain dweller, a stark contrast to the ominous witches Nicole had encountered earlier.