366-370

Chapter 366: Marilyn’s Hint  

"I can sense a familiar power from you."  

"This power… it seems to be connected to me?"  

As Marilyn Lafayette’s curious voice echoed, Amanda slowly opened her eyes.  

She saw a blurry silhouette before her—draped in an oversized trench coat, with curly hair. The only distinct feature visible was a pair of amber-colored eyes.  

This renowned medium from history had somehow managed to perceive Amanda from the distant past.  

Under normal circumstances, Amanda might have been skeptical of such an event.  

But after experiencing multiple instances of ‘future’ travel, she had grown accustomed to these inexplicable occurrences. In fact, she wasn’t even surprised that Marilyn Lafayette could communicate with her across time.  

After all, the prophetic notebook they had been using to traverse the ‘future’ originally belonged to and was written by none other than Marilyn Lafayette herself.  

If the notebook had the ability to allow its user to glimpse into the ‘future’…  

Then it wasn’t entirely unreasonable that its creator, Marilyn Lafayette, could use its power to communicate from the past.  

From Marilyn’s gaze, Amanda sensed a hint of curiosity.  

Reflecting on Marilyn’s words, Amanda instinctively thought of the bone fragment from the New York incident.  

If there was anything about her that could pique Marilyn Lafayette’s curiosity, it had to be that bone fragment.  

Despite asking the question out loud, Marilyn didn’t seem particularly concerned with Amanda’s verbal response.  

With her amber eyes fixed on Amanda, Marilyn reached out with her shadowy, silhouette-like fingers and lightly touched Amanda’s forehead.  

"I see."  

The next moment, Marilyn nodded in understanding.  

"Unfortunately, from the past where I stand, I cannot offer much help. The only thing I can do is provide you with a small ‘hint.’ I hope you can grasp this ‘opportunity’—no matter how far into the future you may be."  

As Marilyn sighed, her glowing amber eyes flickered with brilliance.  

In the blink of an eye, Amanda’s consciousness was once again pulled into a new ‘future.’  

"Boss?"  

Port-au-Prince, inside a hotel room.  

Amanda slowly opened her eyes to the sound of Agent Zhou calling out to her.  

Her mind was still lingering on her encounter with Marilyn Lafayette, yet the reality before her quickly reminded her of the urgency of the situation.  

"Let’s stick with the plan from the longest-lasting ‘future’ we experienced..."  

Sweeping her gaze across the room, Amanda instinctively began issuing orders according to their previous strategy.  

Through countless ‘future’ attempts, the team had always met a grim fate. But with each failure, they had discovered small ways to prolong their survival—bit by bit.  

As she assigned tasks to each team member, Amanda’s eyes landed on Joey, the fortune teller sitting nearby.  

It was a simple, almost subconscious action—one she had repeated countless times across different ‘futures.’  

But this time, something was different.  

A faint golden light flickered in Amanda’s eyes, turning her pupils into a shallow amber hue.  

And in that moment, her gaze was drawn—not just to Joey—but to something inside Joey’s pocket.  

The Voodoo Doll.  

Through her amber-tinted vision, Amanda saw a faint red glow emanating from the doll.  

A memory flashed through her mind—Marilyn Lafayette’s words about the ‘hint.’  

"Mr. President."  

Outside a voodoo temple.  

After ending a phone call, a government official approached the newly elected Haitian president, who was in the middle of a speech.  

Moments ago, the U.S. Embassy in Haiti had lodged a protest, claiming that the extravagant celebrations of the Voodoo Festival were putting pressure on security in the area surrounding the embassy.  

Standing at the podium, the Haitian president’s expression turned incredulous upon hearing the report.  

He was well aware of America’s aggressive diplomatic tactics on the international stage.  

But he hadn’t expected that the U.S. Embassy would go so far as to protest a local holiday celebration—demanding that they immediately halt the festivities.  

"Mr. President, should we…?"  

The official cautiously probed, relaying the embassy’s concerns.  

"Ignore their protest. This is Haiti, not America."  

The president shook his head. While the U.S. had significant influence over Haiti, he wasn’t about to cancel an important cultural event just because of a foreign diplomat’s complaint.  

If he did, it wouldn’t just harm Haiti’s already fragile international reputation—it would also provide political opponents an opportunity to undermine him.  

Although he dismissed the U.S. Embassy’s demands…  

The protest had still left an impact—prompting the president to shorten his speech at the voodoo temple.  

And that was exactly what Amanda’s team had intended.  

In previous ‘future’ attempts, they had learned that the president would never cancel his attendance at the Voodoo Festival.  

So they adjusted their strategy, using the U.S. Embassy’s protest to subtly influence the speech’s duration.  

Even if the change was minimal, every small advantage counted.  

After all their time-traveling attempts, Amanda and her team had come to understand a fundamental truth—even the smallest success was still a success.  

Using the brief window of distraction while the president conversed with his official, Amanda’s team successfully infiltrated the voodoo temple.  

This was another lesson they had learned through repeated ‘future’ experiences.  

They had memorized the patrol routes of the voodoo practitioners and the military units stationed nearby.  

As a result, their infiltration was executed with near-omniscient precision—evading detection at every turn, slipping past guards with eerie foresight, and making their way inside the temple with absolute stealth.  

"Alright… I’m starting to believe that you really have traveled through the ‘future.’"  

As the team moved through the temple with practiced ease, the demon hunter—who had previously been skeptical—began to accept Agent Zhou’s claims about their time-traveling experiences.  

"You’ve said that to me so many times before."  

Chapter 367: A Changed Future  

Agent Zhou stood to the side, calmly making a sarcastic remark.  

After multiple instances of "future" travel, the squad members had grown somewhat familiar with Geralt.  

Although, for the witcher himself, it was his first time meeting most of the BSI squad members, from Agent Zhou’s perspective, they had already collaborated with him multiple times in different "futures."  

Unfortunately, those collaborations rarely ended well.  

Agent Zhou’s words made Geralt instinctively raise an eyebrow, stirring a strange feeling within him.  

Thanks to the intelligence gathered from witchers in different "futures," the BSI squad didn’t have much trouble convincing him to join their mission.  

However, considering the current situation…  

The witcher didn’t dwell on his emotions. Leaning against the church wall, the group discreetly exchanged hand signals.  

Before long, Geralt took the lead and charged into the church.  

The BSI squad had carefully chosen their moment to enter—they waited for the Baron of Saturday to leave with the Voodoo Queen’s soul coin and for the arrival of the Grotesque Club. Their timing was deliberate, meant to avoid provoking the Baron’s wrath.  

This knowledge had come at the cost of a life in one of the "futures."  

"…In truth, the plans of the Loa gods and the goals of the Club do not conflict. When darkness rises, all that sleeps shall awaken…"  

Boom!  

A thunderous gunshot rang out.  

The young she-wolf’s body was sent flying, as if struck by a heavy force, wailing in pain.  

Without hesitation, Geralt swiftly loaded an Exorcism Bullet, shutting his eyes and relying solely on a fleeting memory in his mind. He turned the barrel of his witcher’s gun toward the twisted creature beside the she-wolf—a monstrous being with a gaping, razor-toothed maw that let out a scream as sharp as a bayonet.  

Another deafening gunshot echoed.  

Boom!  

The silver-white Exorcism Bullet shot out of the barrel, its surface runes flashing golden as it was propelled forward by flames. It struck the shrieking twisted creature head-on.  

The moment the silver bullet hit, the creature’s grotesque form seemed to freeze, as if it had suffered a devastating blow. Countless distorted images flickered across its body—one moment it howled, the next it bent forward, then it took a step—yet no matter how much it struggled, it remained trapped in place, unable to break free.  

Having completed the series of shots, the witcher finally opened his eyes. He took in the sight before him—the immobilized, bullet-struck creature, and, not far away, the charred and blackened body of the young she-wolf, Vivian, as if burned by raging flames.  

In the past, Geralt’s instincts would have dictated that he take advantage of this moment to finish off the weakened she-wolf, sending her to reunite with her mother.  

And indeed, in previous "futures," that’s exactly what he had done.  

But this time, he resisted the urge to strike the final blow. Instead, he loaded another Exorcism Bullet and shifted his aim toward the altar.  

"Be careful. Whatever you do, don’t let them notice you."  

Taking cover behind the BSI squad, Joey took advantage of the witcher’s distraction. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a Voodoo Doll, gently placed it on the ground, and patted its head, whispering a quiet reminder.  

The doll, with its red button eyes, exchanged a glance with the fortune teller in front of it. Then, gripping a tiny trident no thicker than a toothpick, it pounded its chest in determination, as if saying, Leave it to me! Without hesitation, it scurried toward the altar.  

"Let’s hope Marilyn Lafay’s ‘hint’ is useful. Otherwise, we’re all dead this time."  

Watching the tiny doll bounce away, the fortune teller took a deep breath but couldn’t shake the unease in his voice.  

"It’s not like it’s the first time."  

Hearing Joey’s worries, Spike casually rubbed the ring on his finger and responded nonchalantly.  

"This time is different. We don’t have another chance to do it over."  

He was right. As Joey had said, this mission was no longer just another "future" traversed through the Prophet’s Notes.  

This meant that if they failed now, there would be no second attempt.  

"Move!"  

As the two spoke, Amanda glanced at Joey for confirmation. The moment he nodded, she gave the order.  

The squad raised their firearms and launched an attack on the young she-wolf Vivian and the cultists within the church.  

The muffled sound of gunfire echoed throughout the church. The squad’s goal was simple—to buy the witcher time and ensure that another Exorcism Bullet wasn’t wasted.  

With Amanda’s squad providing suppressive fire, the high priest’s movements became restricted.  

On the other hand, Vivian the she-wolf let out furious roars, attempting to counterattack. However, the wounds inflicted by the witcher’s gun prevented her from mounting an effective response. Bullets rained down on her, leaving wound after wound. If not for her lycanthropic resilience, she might have already died under their relentless fire.  

For now, though she was still alive, she could do little else.  

The high priest’s situation was even worse.  

Under the squad’s relentless barrage, he couldn’t even get close to the Voodoo Queen’s soul coin. Just staying still in place was enough to put him at risk of being riddled with bullets.  

Feeling the increasingly menacing gaze of Father Regba upon him, the high priest’s withered face twisted like ancient tree bark.  

He knew that if he failed to summon the Voodoo Queen, then even in death, he wouldn’t escape divine wrath and punishment.  

With this grim realization, a look of steely determination flashed across his face.  

Ignoring the storm of bullets, he crawled forward, extending his skeletal arm to grasp the soul coin within reach. Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted toward the altar.  

Bullets struck his emaciated frame, causing blood to spray into the air, but he endured the pain, charging forward. Reaching Narcisse at the altar, he shoved the soul coin into the mouth of the decapitated head impaled by the bone dagger.  

Thud!  

With his final act completed, the high priest let out a twisted, agonized smile before his head slumped forward, and his corpse collapsed heavily before the altar.  

At that moment, in the center of the altar, Narcisse’s severed head snapped open its pitch-black, pupil-less eyes and let out a piercing shriek.  

As the shriek filled the church, the head began to levitate, and its hair grew wildly, rapidly enveloping Narcisse’s corpse. Just as in the previous "futures," once the hair had completely covered the body, it continued to spread, reaching out for anything nearby.  

However, because the young she-wolf hadn’t been killed by the witcher’s gun, the creeping strands couldn’t seize her. Unwillingly, they retracted, forming a black cocoon—significantly smaller than the one in past "futures."  

Chapter 368: The Voodoo Demon  

Thump, thump—  

Inside the church, under the gaze of the crowd…  

The black cocoon pulsed, contracting rhythmically like a beating heart, emitting deep, muffled sounds.  

"Now, return to us, Queen of the Voodoo Cult—Laviue."  

Regba, the elder, raised his arms as he gazed up at the black cocoon on the altar. His lips curled into a grin, revealing his pitch-black teeth.  

As his voice fell, the tightly wrapped strands of hair began to withdraw, revealing a woman with sun-kissed skin, her face adorned with white tribal markings. She slowly opened her eyes as the hair extending from her back wove itself into a flowing black gown, enveloping her body.  

"The Voodoo Cult… Your queen has returned."  

Laviue, the Queen of the Voodoo Cult, had returned from the spirit world of Hell. She swayed her curvaceous figure with grace, stepping forward onto the dark staircase formed from her long, flowing hair.  

However, the moment she set foot on the staircase, she suddenly felt her power draining away at an alarming rate. Even the once-solid steps beneath her feet crumbled in an instant, reverting to mere strands of hair.  

"No… What is happening…?"  

She looked down at her arm, and under her gaze, her once-slender limb withered and transformed into lifeless strands of hair. The elegance on her face twisted into a look of horror.  

"My power… Who… Who is stealing my power?!"  

Laviue could feel it—her once-dominant curse magic was being siphoned away by some unknown force.  

Then, as she let out a bloodcurdling scream, her stomach suddenly bulged unnaturally. In her pitch-black eyes, she saw a sharp trident pierce through her abdomen. Through the gaping wound, a tiny Voodoo Doll, no larger than a human palm, emerged.  

The doll landed on the ground and dusted itself off before looking up at the towering Queen of the Voodoo Cult. It swung its trident with an air of defiance.  

"You… You wretched, lowly sacrifice! Voodoo Doll!"  

Laviue’s face contorted in rage as she glared at the tiny figure that dared to challenge her.  

She had never imagined that this insignificant thing—used as a mere ritual offering in countless voodoo ceremonies—would have the audacity to steal the power of Laviue, the founder and queen of the Voodoo Cult.  

As her piercing shriek echoed through the church, her once-elegant face was quickly engulfed by a mass of jet-black hair. The strands burst forth from her body, spreading rapidly and filling nearly half the church in mere moments.  

Faced with the furious and bloodthirsty queen who sought to tear it apart…  

The Voodoo Doll refused to back down. It swung its tiny trident once again, and in an instant, its petite, yarn-woven body began to expand. Flames erupted from within, wrapping around its form but held tightly in place by the very threads of its being. The fire surged out from the two small demonic horns on its head, transforming into blazing infernal horns.  

In the blink of an eye, the tiny Voodoo Doll had grown into a towering, three-meter-tall Voodoo Demon.  

And it wasn’t just its size that changed—the trident in its hands transformed as well. The once toothpick-thin weapon, now wreathed in roaring flames, became a formidable spear of fire.  

The Voodoo Demon locked its fiery red eyes onto Laviue, unleashing a silent yet ferocious roar.  

The searing heat radiating from its body, thick with the stench of sulfur, collided with the queen’s cursed hair, producing a sharp sizzling sound. A nauseating, acrid stench quickly spread through the church.  

"The hint really worked…"  

Nearby, a man named Joey, who had witnessed the Voodoo Doll’s transformation into the Voodoo Demon, stood frozen in shock, mumbling to himself.  

The Voodoo Doll had been able to assume this powerful new form thanks to a single strand of demon hair embedded within its body. Combined with its inherent connection to the Voodoo Cult, it had managed to steal the Queen’s cursed magic for itself.  

BOOM!  

The flaming trident tore through the air, sending a scorching gust of sulfur-laden wind toward the Voodoo Queen.  

Laviue reacted swiftly, commanding her cursed hair to morph into a pitch-black shield to block the incoming attack.  

However, to her shock, the same cursed hair—which had pushed Amanda and her allies to the brink of death in countless alternate futures—now crumbled like fragile paper before the Voodoo Demon’s flaming trident.  

In an instant, the weapon pierced through the shield and plunged directly into Laviue’s body.  

The scorching flames latched onto her like a living entity, spreading rapidly across her form.  

"No! Damn you!"  

Her voice twisted with fury and disbelief.  

"You foolish sacrifice… How dare you attack the master of Voodoo?!"  

Laviue snarled as the sulfurous flames licked at her flesh. Her cursed hair writhed like venomous snakes, lunging toward the Voodoo Demon, attempting to strangle and tear it apart.  

Entangled in the writhing strands, the Voodoo Demon found itself momentarily immobilized. Despite its newfound power, it was still, at its core, a Voodoo Doll—a creation born from ritual magic, lacking true combat experience.  

But in her blind rage, Laviue had forgotten one crucial fact—  

The Voodoo Demon was not alone.  

Seizing the perfect opportunity, the demon hunter, Geralt, pulled the trigger without hesitation.  

A silver Exorcist Bullet streaked through the air, glowing with golden runes as it struck Laviue square in the chest.  

The Voodoo Queen let out a shriek of agony.  

The cursed hair binding the Voodoo Demon instantly unraveled, writhing chaotically in every direction.  

Compared to the Laviue of the ‘future,’ the version standing before them was significantly weaker. Thus, the devastating impact of the Exorcist Bullet was far greater—so great that the very artifact anchoring her power began to crack.  

A network of fractures spread across her neck and face, revealing glimpses of Laviue’s tormented soul, writhing within.  

Chapter 369: The End 

Splurt! 

Seizing the moment when the Voodoo Empress was injured, the Voodoo Demon began to struggle desperately. 

Accompanied by the pungent smell of sulfur, blazing flames erupted from within its body. Wrapped in fire, its already massive form expanded even further. The two fiery horns on its head stretched upward, directly piercing the ceiling of the Voodoo Church. 

Roar— 

It threw its head back and let out a furious howl. 

Transformed into a Flame Demon, the Voodoo Doll extended its massive flaming claws, radiating unbearable heat and a choking sulfuric stench that distorted the surrounding air as it reached toward the Voodoo Empress. 

"Ah!" 

Sensing the imminent threat of death, the deranged Voodoo Empress, Lavieu, momentarily snapped back to clarity. Her twisted expression stiffened as she let out a piercing scream. The long hair on her head turned into writhing, clawing monsters that lunged at the massive flaming claw before her. 

Boom! 

Lavieu’s cursed hair collided with the Flame Demon’s claw, triggering a massive explosion. 

The shockwave reverberated through the church, shaking its very foundation. 

Amidst the tremors, Amanda and her team’s assault on the young she-wolf momentarily faltered. Seizing this opportunity, Vivienne struggled to her feet, dragging a long trail of blood as she turned into a dark blur and hid behind one of the church’s stone pillars. Clutching the charred wound left by a hunter’s attack, she panted heavily. 

Despite the werewolf’s formidable regenerative abilities, they had their limits—especially for Vivienne, who was still just a juvenile wolf. 

After enduring BSI’s relentless gunfire, her body was riddled with wounds. Even with her natural healing, recovery would take time. 

The demon hunter furrowed his brows as he noticed the young she-wolf’s subtle movements. 

If he had the chance, he would have gladly turned around and shot the little beast, but the situation forced him to focus more on Lavieu and Papa Legba. 

Seeing the Voodoo Empress struggling against the Voodoo Doll, Papa Legba gripped his staff tightly, an eager expression flashing across his dust-covered face. However, the hunter’s gun trained on him forced the Voodoo god to restrain his impulse. 

In the Voodoo faith, Papa Legba was not a powerful deity. In fact, his very domain indicated his limitations. 

His unique abilities allowed him to manifest in the mortal realm more easily than most Loa spirits, but in exchange, he was far weaker than them. 

In terms of pure strength, even the incarnated Voodoo Empress surpassed him. 

Swept by the demon hunter’s gaze, Papa Legba hesitated. 

Without his intervention, the Empress—who had been steadily weakened throughout the ritual—stood no chance against the Flame Demon that the Voodoo Doll had become. 

The suffocating sulfur in the air thickened as the flames engulfing the Voodoo Doll wrapped around the Empress’s cursed hair. The hair writhed and struggled, trying to escape, but it could not resist the demonic flames from the depths of Hell. In the end, the cursed strands were reduced to charred ashes, scattering to the ground. 

At that moment, the Voodoo Doll’s fiery claw broke through the burning strands and seized Lavieu’s physical vessel—her head. 

Engulfed in raging flames, the Voodoo Empress let out a bloodcurdling scream. 

"No, I refuse to accept this! I fought so hard to descend from the Lower Spirit Realm into this world! My plans are not yet complete…" 

"I am the Voodoo Empress!" 

Crack! 

… 

[Story Points]: 7,035,320 

"Phew~" 

San Marino. 

The system screen froze on the moment the Voodoo Doll, transformed into a Flame Demon, crushed Lavieu’s head. Twisted Man escaped with the young she-wolf, while Papa Legba cast a furious Loa curse upon the BSI team. 

What happened next would be left to the team members to report once they returned to America. 

No doubt, the aftermath would throw the American authorities into chaos. 

Unlike the supernatural incidents in Japan, this time, the threat had come from Haiti—a neighboring country. Even though America usually paid little attention to its neighbor, learning about the danger that nearly reached its borders would undoubtedly provoke a response. 

However, America’s reaction was not Allen’s primary concern. 

Lifting his gaze, he glanced at the system panel displaying the Story Points earned from this script. His eyes flickered slightly before he quickly shifted his attention to the system’s backend menu. 

After all, after painstakingly crafting this storyline, he had to see what rewards awaited him. 

[* System & Backend ** History ** Records ** Exchange ** Shop **]* 

• [World Evolution Rate]: 36.8% 

• [Script 12]: "Divination" 

[Character Card - Twisted Man (3/3)] (30,000 Points to Redeem) 

• [Card Rank]: Bronze 

• [Description]: You can insert this character into any script without consuming additional Story Points. 

• [Note]: "A twisted man walked a twisted mile. He held a twisted sixpence and climbed a twisted stair. He bought a crooked cat that caught a crooked mouse. Together, they lived in a crooked house…" 

[Item - Prophet’s Notebook (3/3)] (100,000 Points to Redeem) 

• [Effect]: Foreseeing the future 

• [Description]: This is the notebook of Marilyn Lafay, detailing her conversations with the Prophet Moses in the Upper Spirit Realm. It holds the power to glimpse the future. Tearing out a page will allow the user to experience a brief moment of future events. 

• [Note]: "The future is already written!" 

[Story Item - Voodoo Doll] (30,000 Points to Redeem) 

• [Effect]: Curses, Flames 

• [Description]: Voodoo dolls are ritualistic tools used in Voodoo magic. Different colors and designs represent various effects. 

• [Note]: "This is a special Voodoo Doll. After absorbing the Empress’s powerful curse, its very nature has changed." 

[Story Item - Dirt Biscuit] (1 Point to Redeem) 

• [Effect]: Food 

• [Description]: A popular Haitian snack. Tasting it will give you the "flavor of the earth"—and possibly an extended stay in the restroom. 

• [Note]: "A delicacy unique to Haiti." 

[Story Item - Spirit Realm Key (2/2)] (20,000 Points to Redeem) 

• [Effect]: Traversing the Spirit Realm 

• [Description]: This key, held by Papa Legba, allows free passage between the real world and the Spirit Realm. Using it grants access to the Spirit Realm. 

• [Note]: "Papa Legba is no benevolent god. His key might just open the gates of Hell." 

[Character Card - Baron Samedi (2/2)] (60,000 Points to Redeem) 

• [Card Rank]: Silver 

• [Description]: You can insert this character into any script without consuming additional Story Points. 

• [Note]: "Have you prepared the offering?" 

Chapter 370: Harvest  

To evolve the script "Divination", the entire nation of Haiti was drawn into the process.  

A significant increase in [World Evolution Rate] was well within Allen's expectations.  

Even though Haiti, as a country, was in a terrible state, the sheer number of participants—tens of thousands—made this script the largest in terms of mobilized people among all of Allen’s evolved scripts.  

Moreover, countless trips were made to the "future" throughout the script's evolution.  

With this level of involvement, it would be strange if the [World Evolution Rate] didn’t show a substantial increase.  

After his usual glance at the rise in [World Evolution Rate], Allen turned his attention to the items in the exchange list.  

What first caught his eye wasn’t any of the various tools or artifacts but a peculiar item priced at one [Plot Point]—[Mud Cake].  

To be honest, despite evolving so many scripts and reviewing countless exchange items, this was the first time Allen had seen something with such a poor cost-to-value ratio.  

Especially considering the system’s description of [Mud Cake], which carried an unmistakable air of mockery—whether directed at Allen himself or at Haiti, the setting of this script.  

Was this thing really considered food?  

Frowning, Allen lingered on the system’s evaluation of [Mud Cake] before finally withdrawing his gaze, shifting his focus to more useful items.  

As for the idea of redeeming a [Mud Cake] just for a taste? That never even crossed his mind.  

Come on, even though a single [Plot Point] meant little to him now, it was still hard-earned. If he really wanted to experience the taste of Haiti’s local specialty, he could just dig up some dirt in his yard and make one himself—it probably wouldn’t taste much different anyway.  

Shaking his head to clear such pointless thoughts, Allen’s gaze landed on a familiar name in the system’s exchange panel.  

[Twisted One].  

As the first supernatural entity Allen ever evolved, [Twisted One] was an old acquaintance.  

It had even made cameo appearances in several later scripts.  

However, as the narrative progressed, the original [Black Iron]-ranked [Twisted One] had gradually become outdated. Now, in the new script "Divination", a newly evolved version of [Twisted One] had successfully ranked up from [Black Iron] to [Bronze].  

Although this was still far below the [Silver] characters in Allen’s possession, at least it now qualified as a mid-tier combatant. It could barely continue making appearances—at least until the storyline reached the Grotesque Club arc.  

As thoughts flickered through his mind, Allen’s gaze shifted downward and landed on [Prophet’s Notebook].  

If [Mud Cake] was the most pathetic item across all scripts Allen had experienced, then [Prophet’s Notebook] was undoubtedly one of his most valued tools.  

The ability to traverse the future was an undeniably powerful force.  

Allen had witnessed the BSI Squad’s time travel in the system’s panel many times, but seeing it from the panel and actually controlling it were two entirely different things.  

With [Prophet’s Notebook], Allen had greater confidence and more control over his fate.  

In any truly dangerous world, the [Prophet’s Notebook] would be an undeniable life-saving artifact.  

Unfortunately, in this world, the greatest mastermind behind everything was none other than Allen himself.  

Thus, while the [Prophet’s Notebook] provided some psychological excitement, a firsthand experience of time travel, and an increase in special knowledge, its actual usefulness was fairly limited.  

Still, having such an item in his collection was undeniably prestigious.  

Forcing himself to shift his gaze away from [Prophet’s Notebook], Allen looked at the next item—*[Voodoo Doll]*.  

Or rather, the upgraded [Voodoo Doll].  

If there was a biggest winner in the "Divination" script, it was undoubtedly this [Voodoo Doll].  

With a slight thought, Allen activated the system panel.  

At the top of the screen, his [Plot Points] started decreasing. In the next instant, a palm-sized [Voodoo Doll] appeared in his hand.  

The doll wobbled slightly, shaking its fuzzy yarn head. Struggling to stand up, it immediately recognized Allen’s familiar face and began bouncing excitedly, waving its tiny trident.  

“You’ve really changed?”  

Allen blinked in mild confusion as he observed the [Voodoo Doll], which didn’t look much different from before.  

The doll immediately stopped moving, nodded eagerly, and then—perhaps afraid that Allen wouldn’t believe it—straightened its back and swung its tiny trident.  

A moment later, two small devil horns on its head ignited with matchstick-sized flames.  

“You actually did evolve?”  

Seeing the flames burst from the doll’s horns, along with the faint scent of sulfur in the air, Allen finally believed it.  

Despite looking identical to its former self, the [Voodoo Doll] had indeed leveled up.  

Theoretically, this meant that if the doll wanted to, it could transform once again into the blazing Fire Demon that had appeared in the script.  

“Not bad. That was well worth the [Plot Points].”  

Nodding in satisfaction, Allen reached out and patted the *[Voodoo Doll]*’s yarn head. In response, the doll extinguished its flames and snuggled against Allen’s palm.  

Indeed, the texture of its head felt the best.  

With that thought flashing through his mind, Allen continued scanning the system’s exchange panel.  

[Spirit Realm Key] was neither good nor bad.  

The system did warn him that Papa Legba, the Voodoo Loa deity, was not a benevolent entity.  

But as the Creator, even an "unfriendly" Papa Legba would have to act friendly in front of Allen.  

Still, for now, Allen had no intention of traveling to the Spirit Realm.  

So, after giving the [Spirit Realm Key] a brief glance, he moved on to the last item—a [Silver]-ranked character card.  

[Baron Samedi].  

Although his screen time in the "Divination" script wasn’t much, he was still the official death deity of the Voodoo Loa pantheon.  

He wielded the authority over death, widely regarded as the embodiment of death in Haiti.  

As a local religious god, the system rating him as [Silver] was more than appropriate.  

(End of Chapter)