At that moment, there was a knock on the door.
The woman peeked through the keyhole and opened the door.
A man walked in.
He looked familiar.
He seemed to be a circus clown.
Alan wasn't sure.
After all, clowns wear heavy makeup during their performances.
"Is this the kid who ate candy yesterday but didn't faint?" the clown asked the woman.
"So I used double the dose this time!" the woman laughed triumphantly.
"Is he talented?"
"Average talent, ogre blood."
"That's it? Very ordinary!" The clown looked puzzled. "The captain is making a fuss over such an insignificant brat by asking the two of us to stay here. Isn't that a bit of a fuss?"
"The captain is just curious. Why was this brat the only one who wasn't charmed at the circus yesterday afternoon? He wants to capture him and study him personally," the woman explained.
"What a silly curiosity!" The clown shrugged and spread his hands.
"Stop talking nonsense! Go buy the boat tickets and the biggest suitcase big enough for this boy. I don't want to look too suspicious when we get on board," the woman said to the clown. "Also, please order me breakfast."
"You're such a nag!"
"Hey! Listen! Last night in bed, I didn't complain about your demands!"
"Okay, I owe you that."
...
Shortly after the clown left, breakfast arrived.
Bread and jam, and a bowl of steaming cream of mushroom soup.
The woman placed the tray on the table and went into the bathroom.
Through the door, Alan could hear the sound of running water.
The toxins in his body had dissipated, and his body had regained its vitality.
He quietly stood up, pulled the mushrooms from his pocket, and walked to the dining table...
When the woman emerged from the bathroom, Alan had returned to his previous position, still unconscious.
The woman didn't notice anything unusual and sat down to eat.
The breakfast was very much to her liking.
The soup, in particular, was generous with its generous servings of mushrooms and incredibly delicious.
However, soon after, she sensed something was amiss.
First, she felt a strong dizziness, followed by hallucinations.
It was as if countless tiny, glowing figures sprouted from the wall, dancing around her...
"Damn it!"
The woman struggled to her feet, holding onto the wall as she staggered toward the door, intending to open it and call for help.
Just then, a figure emerged from behind her, carrying a heavy brass candlestick.
Taking advantage of the kidnapper's daze from the poison and her off guard, Allen raised the candlestick and, with all his might, smashed it hard against the back of her head.
BANG!
With a dull thud, the woman fell to the ground.
A large part of the back of her head was deflated, and her limbs were still twitching.
Alan gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and swung the candlestick, striking her twice more on the back of the head.
BANG! BANG!
The woman collapsed to the ground, limp and motionless.
A shattered occipital bone gushed forth a stream of blood.
Alan set down the candlestick.
Took a deep breath.
He forced himself to calm down.
He reached for the woman's face with a trembling hand, confirming she was no longer breathing. A heavy weight finally settled in his heart.
A quick search of the body revealed a wallet, a dagger, and a small vial of potion.
The system identified it as "Datura extract," containing a high concentration of daturobarbital.
The handkerchief the woman had held to his face, as well as the candy he had eaten at the circus yesterday, all contained this powerful hypnotic toxin.
Alan opened the door and was about to go downstairs when he heard heavy footsteps below.
Looking down, he saw the clown carrying a large suitcase, entering the hotel.
Damn!
Alan quickly retreated to his room and closed the door.
The way downstairs was blocked. What should he do?
He hurried to the window and pushed it open.
Below the second-floor window was a street.
Unlike ordinary houses, the first floor of a hotel had a very high ceiling.
Jumping from a second-floor window, over seven meters high, would make a loud noise, alerting the clown, even if he didn't injure his legs or feet.
Alan held onto the windowsill, hesitated for a moment, and ultimately gave up the idea of escaping.
He quickly returned to the door, dipped a handkerchief in the blood from the woman's body, and smeared it on the windowsill.
A creaking sound came from the stairs outside.
The clown was ascending the stairs, carrying a suitcase.
Alan stuffed the handkerchief back into the body's pocket, quickly turned, and hid under the bed.
He held the potion bottle in his left hand, the dagger in his right, holding his breath, waiting quietly.
In the utter silence, only his own pounding heartbeat could be heard.
There was a knock at the door.
No one answered.
With a creak, the Joker opened the door and entered.
He immediately saw the woman's body and gasped in surprise.
His subsequent reaction was perfectly consistent with the behavior of a criminal.
The Joker quickly covered his mouth and glanced back furtively.
After making sure he hadn't alerted the other tenants, he closed the door.
He quickly walked over to the woman's body and squatted to examine the wound.
After a moment, it suddenly dawned on him that the young man the woman had kidnapped was gone!
The Joker stood up and looked around, noticing the window was open.
A glaring stain of blood lingered on the windowsill.
His face darkened, as if he had guessed something. He quickly walked to the window and peered out. "Damn brat! Has he escaped through the window?"
The clown lay by the window, muttering to himself.
At this moment, Allen emerged from under the bed, tiptoed up behind him, and stabbed him fiercely!
Swish!
A flash of cold light!
The sharp dagger pierced the clown's back deeply.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
The clown screamed, instinctively turning around and kicking Allen in the chest.
Bang!
Alan stumbled back from the kick and sat down on the bed, his chest tight and his breathing difficult.
This clown's martial arts skills were quite impressive!
In a fair fight, he was no match for him!
Even after being stabbed in the back, bleeding profusely, and his face contorted in pain, the clown still managed to fight.
He drew his dagger from his waist and approached with gritted teeth, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent.
"Little bastard! You're dead!"
Before he finished his words, Allen suddenly raised his left hand.
The liquid from the potion bottle splashed onto the clown's face.
The clown cried out in surprise and quickly wiped his face.
The wet liquid exuded a familiar scent.
Could it be...?
A sudden thought struck the clown, and his heart sank.
The highly concentrated solution of mandrake alkaloids was inhaled through his nostrils and mouth.
In a matter of seconds, the clown slid to the ground, leaning against the wall, his eyes vacant.
Alan threw the candlestick first.
Knocked the dagger out of the clown's hand.
Seeing he was powerless to resist, he mustered up the courage to step forward and slash his neck with the knife!
Dropping the knife, Alan broke out in a cold sweat, his hands shaking.
He forced himself to remain calm and quietly left the hotel.
He rushed home, told his father the whole story, and then together they went to the police.
When the police arrived at the hotel crime scene, both kidnappers were already dead, their blood pooling on the floor.
Alan stayed at the police station until noon.
After giving his statement, he was interrogated repeatedly by the sheriff.
Finally, unable to uncover any valuable clues, he was angrily dismissed.
As he left the police station with his father, Alan's heart was still heavy.
Those two kidnappers belonged to a criminal gang disguised as a circus, specializing in abducting and trafficking children, particularly those with sorcerer abilities, who seemed to fetch a higher price.
Killing them wouldn't be the end of the matter.
What if one of their accomplices came back for revenge?
Would my parents and sister be implicated?
After this incident, Alan deeply realized that the world he lived in was even more dangerous than before he traveled through time.
Without the ability to protect himself, living a stable life was a luxury!
Since he lived in a world where sorcerers were respected, and since he had sorcerer blood...
The most viable way to become stronger was, of course, to become a sorcerer himself!