Working as a police officer in Mexico

Inside the hospital at The Pentagon.

The doctors and nurses wore strange expressions, watching the entrance of the corridor with curious eyes.

A few people dressed in black robes, with unknown wooden items on their heads, peculiar patterns painted on their faces, muttering incomprehensible incantations, bouncing back and forth.

"Director, these are... these are wizards, aren't they?" a young girl couldn't hold back her curiosity and asked in a low voice, eyes widened.

"Shh shh shh!"

The elderly director, wearing glasses, hurriedly put his finger to his lips, frowned, glanced around to ensure no one noticed before speaking, "Don't speak nonsense."

She paused before continuing, "Science cannot solve all ailments, so we have to turn to the metaphysical. We need to understand the mindset of the patient's family."

This kind of institutional hospital, indeed.

If it were outside, not calling the police would already be fortunate.

"I think so too, the Defense Minister's granddaughter is just strange. They've conducted numerous tests, but found nothing, even checked for rare diseases, yet there's no problem. But she stays in a coma, and strange red marks frequently appear on her forehead."

A nurse standing nearby, seemingly senior, nodded and said, "Also, at night during my rounds, I can hear sounds coming from inside, like the noises of a wild animal!"

Whirr—

It's unclear where the wind came from, making doctors and nurses shiver suddenly.

"Don't frighten yourselves. We are practitioners of science. That's enough; everyone get back to work!" The director's legs trembled as he spoke, stiffening his neck and then rushing back to his office, holding a folder.

Seeing the situation, the others scattered like birds.

Inside the ward.

Norman Schwartzkopf furrowed his brow tightly, while his wife Brenda Holsinger clenched the cross in her hand, eyes closed in prayer, though her eyelids trembled slightly.

Their eldest daughter, Cynthia, was teary-eyed.

Meanwhile, their granddaughter lay on the bed, bound with red ropes.

A person who looked like a witch knelt at the bedside, holding a tortoise shell, shaking their head, face very pale, mad, paler than my butt.

Suddenly, she screamed, and the tortoise shell in her hand was smashed onto the floor.

Crack!

Who knew the tortoise shell would crack immediately!

It shattered right in front of everyone into several pieces!

Gasp—

The witch spat out a "liquid," her body collapsing to the ground, convulsing, a sudden scene that shocked everyone. The adjacent wizard hurriedly helped her up.

The witch stared, eyes filled with terror, her voice hoarse, "I saw it! I saw it! She is pressed beneath a corpse, her head nailed with her essence blood and fur, someone wants to harm her! Someone wants to harm her!"

As she spoke, more blood came forth.

Norman Schwartzkopf's scalp tingled, unable to endure, "What is going on?"

"Sir, someone is casting spells to persecute your granddaughter!" The wizard supporting the witch turned his head to say, "They are using evil magic to kill your whole family, you cannot escape!"

His wife, Brenda Holsinger, screamed sharply, crying, "Oh God! Why do this to us!"

"Is there a way?" The now-17-year-old third son, Christian, kept relatively calm, though his voice trembled.

"Find the ones using evil magic against you, then disrupt the ritual!"

"So many people, where to find them?"

The wizard's eyes flicked, "Those who can obtain essence blood and fur must be someone close."

With these words, Norman Schwartzkopf's eyes narrowed sharply, instantly altering the atmosphere in the room.

"My granddaughter... how much longer does she have?"

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice slightly trembling.

"Quickly, better find out within a month, or else... the entire family will be in danger."

!!!!

The wizard supported the now-unconscious witch as they left, but upon reaching the door, the witch suddenly awoke, "Sir... come forward!"

Norman Schwartzkopf was startled, his feet unwillingly moving forward.

"I saw, you are surrounded by vile people, they are plotting against you, they are holding you back. The reasons are more with them than with you; I can't help you much, but I can only tell you one thing."

The witch coughed forcefully, "Act swiftly to cut the Gordian knot! Only by striking first can there be a way to survive."

After saying this, she fainted again. The wizard hastily carried her out, leaving chaos behind.

Norman Schwartzkopf's face darkened, the witch's words echoing involuntarily in his mind, "Saboteurs abound! Mind the vile people around you."

Who are the vile people around him?

It surely can't be his children; which leaves only…

Those team members who have already "seemed to be united in appearance but divided in spirit!"

"Dad, what do we do? Someone around you means to harm us," eldest daughter Cynthia cried, clutching his arm tightly, "Save Eliza, she's so young, only four years old."

"Stop crying, crying for what! Is crying useful?"

Norman Schwartzkopf rebuked, voice deep, "We need to find out who is trying to harm us."

Honestly, Europeans and Americans aren't truly fools!

Many Europeans and Americans who participate in metaphysical activities mainly do it for entertainment.

Surveys show 70% of American participants say they partake in metaphysical activities "for fun," with only a minority using it for life guidance. Only 1% of Americans say they rely on astrology, tarot, or fortune-teller advice when making major life decisions.

Given the well-established science education system in Europe and America, scientific reasoning is deeply ingrained. Many hold a scientific and rational stance, viewing metaphysics skeptically or negatively, considering it a superstition lacking scientific basis.