The next morning.
A knock came at the door of the Winchester brothers’ bedroom.
“Gentlemen, breakfast is served.”
Dean and Sam, still in bed, snapped awake at the sound. Knowing this family was off, they’d stayed on high alert even while sleeping, giving them no opening to exploit.
From the voice, it was the black maid they’d met yesterday calling them down to eat.
Even now, Dean and Sam still hadn’t figured out her status in this estate—or the black gardener’s, for that matter.
The sharp-eyed brothers had noticed from the daily routines, meals, and other small details that this family were textbook white supremacists.
And yet, strangely, they treated their two non-white servants with complete equanimity, showing no arrogance or disdain.
Even though they’d clearly displayed a strong sense of superiority when dealing with Su Fan and the two brothers.
They tidied up quickly and made their way to the estate’s dining room.
The Armitage family had been waiting there for some time.
“Gentlemen, how did you sleep last night?”
At the table, Dean Armitage greeted Sam and the others with a smile.
“Did you have any trouble falling asleep in a new environment?”
“Not bad. Sam and I are used to it.”
Dean found the old white man in front of him utterly repulsive, but now wasn’t the time to pick a fight.
Sam gave a polite nod as well.
“Mr. Su Fan will be down in a bit. While we wait, there are a few things I’d like to ask you both.”
Dean and Sam knew exactly what was coming with that opening.
It was bound to be about exorcism.
With Su Fan’s “nine truths, one lie” approach from last night as a template, they found it even easier to spin their own tales.
The two of them had been in all kinds of environments for exorcism work—when it came to putting up a good front, they were masters.
As they chatted, Missy, sitting across from the Winchester brothers, smiled gently and stirred her coffee with a small spoon.
The metallic clinking against the ceramic cup wall—ting, ting, clink—didn’t sound unusual, but it seemed to carry a subtle, peculiar rhythm.
Dean was rambling on and didn’t notice right away, but Sam caught something off.
He nudged Dean with his elbow. Dean glanced over, spotted what Missy was doing, and immediately understood, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Hypnosis.
A skilled hypnotist could use rhythmic cues to make their subject fall into a trance without even realizing it.
So that was it.
This was how everyone who’d come to this house before had lost their resistance.
“Mrs. Armitage, did you put in too much sugar? You’ve been stirring forever and it still hasn’t dissolved. Maybe you should just get a fresh cup.”
Missy’s hand paused.
Hypnosis took time to work.
This was the first time someone had actually called her out on it.
Had she been discovered?
For a moment, Missy felt a flash of panic.
But then she saw her husband and son right beside her, and quickly steadied herself.
“It’s just a little habit of mine. Is it bothering you?”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Mr. Carlos, don’t you think you’re being a bit too sensitive?”
Missy deliberately kept clinking her spoon against the cup, even louder this time.
Whether or not they recognized the hypnotic attempt, as long as it went on long enough and often enough, it would work.
Right now, they were just one step away from a successful suggestion.
“Looks like Mrs. Armitage didn’t quite catch what I said.”
Dean’s smile faded.
“If you keep making that racket, I’m going to smash that damn coffee cup right into your face.”
The cozy atmosphere was shattered by those brutish, thuggish words.
Dean’s buzz cut, stocky build, and vanishing smile made for an intimidating sight.
Missy had never been threatened so directly before. For a moment, she forgot how to respond, frozen in place.
On the other side, Dean Armitage’s face darkened instantly.
“Should I take that as a threat, Mr. Carlos?”
“How dare you threaten my wife in my own home, right in front of me?!”
Jeremy, the youngest and strongest of the family, immediately moved to get up—
Only to be shoved back down by Sam’s hand.
Sam might have been the younger brother, but in terms of height and build, he was actually bigger and stronger than Dean.
Add to that a body honed by years of exorcism work, and he could’ve taken on the whole room by himself.
Just as tensions were about to boil over, a voice drifted down from above.
“So lively this early in the morning. You all seem full of energy.”
Seeing the black-haired young man descending the stairs, Dean Armitage immediately spoke up.
“Mr. Su Fan, I hope you can explain your two assistants’ behavior.”
“Explain? Explain what?”
Su Fan seemed completely unaware of what had happened, a hint of confusion crossing his face.
“Just now, Carlos directly threatened my wife. If I don’t teach them a lesson, I—”
“That was just a joke, Mr. Armitage.”
Dean Armitage didn’t get to finish before Su Fan cut him off.
“That’s just how Dean is. I hope you can be understanding and tolerant.”
“And besides, a little misunderstanding like this is nothing compared to the exorcism.
I’m sure you won’t hold it against them, right?”
Dean Armitage looked at Su Fan.
The young man’s lips spoke of “hope” and “tolerance,” but there wasn’t a trace of apology on his face.
Those black eyes were calm and cold as they met his gaze—unwavering, brooking no argument.
His stance was clear as day.
If Dean Armitage expected him to scold the brothers, he’d only be embarrassing himself.
He stared at Su Fan for a moment, then suddenly let out a hearty laugh.
“Hahaha! Of course, of course.”
“Mr. Su Fan came all the way here to perform an exorcism for our estate—why would we make things difficult for his assistants?”
“Missy, Jeremy, apologize to Mr. Carlos and the others.”
Missy had already put down her spoon and obediently offered her apologies, feeling a humiliation she’d never experienced before.
The situation was clear—they had no choice. The exorcism ritual had to be carried out by Su Fan and his people, which essentially gave them life-and-death power over the family.
Until the spirits in this house were dealt with, they’d have to keep their tails between their legs.
Jeremy, however, was fuming. He let out a cold snort and refused to speak.
He got up, left the table, and headed back to his room.
And just like that, the dispute came to an end.
Dean and Sam were surprised.
They hadn’t expected it to be settled so easily.
So this was what it felt like to throw your weight around?
“Never mind him, Mr. Su Fan. Please, try the breakfast we’ve prepared.”
Dean Armitage didn’t call Jeremy back. Instead, he warmly invited Su Fan to sit down and join the meal.
Su Fan walked over to Dean and Sam, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
“The renovation suggestions you gave us yesterday, Mr. Su Fan—I’ve already contacted some professionals this morning.”
“They’ll be coming the day after tomorrow to start the work on the estate layout.”
“What do you think?”
Su Fan cut a piece of pancake with his knife, took a bite, then picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Pretty efficient. It’s rare these days to find a client who actually listens to advice.”
“Just doing what’s right. As a doctor, I prefer my patients to follow my treatment plans completely, but that doesn’t always happen—you know how it is, patients always have their own ideas.”
“I personally hate that. So when it comes to professional advice—yours, Su—I’ll follow it to the letter.”
After saying this, Dean Armitage glanced at Su Fan’s reaction.
The latter seemed quite pleased with his attitude, giving a slight nod.
“With your full cooperation, I’m confident this will be a smooth exorcism, Mr. Armitage.”
“You flatter me. I was wondering, though—when can we officially begin the ritual?”
“There’s an old saying in China: Haste makes waste. The more anxious you are to get something done, the more likely you are to make mistakes.”
Su Fan spoke slowly.
“To be honest with you, sir, Rose was attacked again last night. She’s badly injured…”
Dean and Sam scanned the table and realized the woman who’d brought them here wasn’t at breakfast.
“If this keeps up, I’m worried—”
“Relax. She’s not dead yet, is she?”
Dean Armitage’s breath caught. Anger flickered across his face, but he forced it down. Even so, his expression turned visibly sour.
