When Ronald heard Thomson's voice, his first impulse was to deny it.
But when he turned around, he found his two companions, Ronald and Nasus, standing still in the living room on the first floor.
They had stopped in their tracks, seemingly with no intention of continuing to flee.
Thomson was about to speak when Ronald from across stopped him.
"Keep it down. The guy upstairs hasn't come down."
Listen... listen to what?
A puzzled expression surfaced on his face.
However, soon the confusion in Thomson's eyes turned to shock.
Because when he followed Ronald's advice, a faint voice did indeed begin to ring in his ear, eventually becoming a clear male voice:
"Three guests, if possible, please heed my simple request."
"The last hope of a dying man."
Someone was speaking inside their heads!
After taking three steps back until his body pressed against the end of the porch, feeling the shape of the doorknob against his back, Thomson shakily asked:
"Are you... are you human or ghost?"
"I told you, be quiet!"
This time, even the most patient person wouldn't let Thomson interject.
With a stern rebuke that cut off the peddler, Ronald briskly took over the conversation:
"Before you state your request, introduce yourself first."
"After all, your wife and daughter are waiting for you upstairs!"
As soon as Ronald spoke, the air instantly returned to calm.
Apart from Nasus looking around as if searching for something, no other sound emerged.
A few breaths passed—
Until Ronald began to doubt whether the man could hear his demand, the man's voice appeared again.
"Gentlemen, I mean you no harm."
"I don't care if it's goodwill or not, even if you're planning to crack open our skulls to suck out our brain marrow, tell us your origins right now!"
With unprecedented assertiveness, Ronald's tone left no room for negotiation.
In moments , control of the conversation must be firmly in his hands, not a single opportunity given to the other party.
By using the man's initiative to speak and making a request—a clear sign of weakness—it was a perfect chance to force him into his own rhythm, which was the best way to guide the content of the dialogue.
Only then could they maximize control over the present situation they were in.
Just as Ronald expected, the man indeed responded:
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Ronald's steady voice resounded again:
"Now you may state your request."
"I hope you can rescue my daughter."
"Just as you saw on the second floor earlier, her mother has completely turned into a monster controlled by power, no longer the beloved wife I once knew."
"As a father, this is my sole request."
"Please save my daughter."
Ronald's face showed no emotion, but he'd already made a judgment.
At first glance, the narrative seemed to have no issues, but in actuality, it couldn't withstand scrutiny at all.
However, at times , there was no time to get caught up on that.
With a sigh in his heart, Ronald continued to speak:
"So, as a reward, tell us the method to escape the black fog."
The man's voice immediately became surprised,
"How do you know...?"
"Of course I know! Since you found us on the second floor, you must also be aware of the black fog outside."
"Even the acquisition of your abilities must be somehow linked to it!"
"Otherwise, there's no reason for the black fog to slow down as it approaches here."
"Of course, I don't plan to ask you anything else."
"Just tell us plainly the method to escape the black fog, it's better for both of us."
Was that statement too aggressive?
Hearing Ronald's further coercion, not only Nade, but even Thomson at the porch couldn't help but think so.
No, one should say the other party would definitely be discontented.
The current situation was that they were trapped; this man's voice that had appeared could be seen as their last straw for survival.
Such a conversation was too risky!
But, as they say, actions speak louder than words—
Ronald had taken complete control of the conversation.
Under such strong verbal pressure, the other side did not choose to become enraged and break off the discussion.
After merely hesitating for less than half a minute, the man's voice resounded again.
"Fine. I can tell you how to escape the black fog, but you must take my daughter with you when you leave."
"Go ahead," Ronald nodded.
Thereupon, the man began to recount everything that had happened on Black Mountain:
"Just as you've guessed, my family's powers all come from a Magic Book, and even the black fog outside is a result of this book going out of control."
"Both my wife and I."
"Have been gradually consumed by the magic of the book, only my poor daughter still has a chance for life."
"As for the current situation, because the Magic Book is in my hands, I can ensure that my wife can't break into the living room. Centering around this point, so long as you can rescue my daughter from the second floor and leave the mansion."
"I will immediately destroy the Magic Book."
"By doing so, I will die alongside my wife as the Magic Book collapses."
"You will also be able to safely leave Black Mountain, and my daughter will be saved with you."
Ronald's face darkened, and he barely restrained himself from cursing out loud.
Forget sincerity, the gaps in the man's story were denser than a watering can's head, riddled with logical inconsistencies that couldn't be filled.
What kind of person could brazenly spout such idiocy?
However, just as Ronald's brows were tightly knit, pondering how to continue the conversation.
Suddenly, Thomson at the porch spoke up.
Due to the distance, this time even Nade didn't manage to stop him!
"Mr. Coret, you should at least tell us how to rescue your daughter."
"The power of your wife is not something the three of us ordinary people can handle."
"I swear by the great name of the creator, as long as we can escape, we will definitely fulfill our promise."
The air in the living room instantly returned to calm.
Probably after a dozen or so seconds, the man's voice spoke again:
"It's actually quite simple."
"My daughter is now nailed to the second-floor floorboards, all you have to do is locate the corresponding position downstairs, and then remove the already damaged flooring to rescue her."
"In the garden shed, there are ladders, and tools are not lacking."
"You can do it, can't you?"
"Of course." Under the almost solidified gaze of Ronald and Nade, Thomson nodded without hesitation, "We can do it."
With just a few sentences, the authority Ronald had established was gone.
The situation had become complicated—