Inside the back room, the chief healer, who was the same middle-aged witch doctor Matthew had seen earlier, sat reading a medical text. Hearing the young woman's words, a look of surprise crossed his face. After thinking for a moment, he looked up and said, "I'll take a look."
The witch doctor stood up from his chair, curious about who might be causing trouble.
As the chief healer of Dewsbury's witch clan, he could quickly deduce that someone buying such large quantities of poisonous herbs was either a rival healer looking to challenge him or someone planning something nefarious, like murder. But if it were a murderer, they wouldn't be so bold as to make their intentions known so openly. So, there was only one logical conclusion—someone had come to challenge his authority.
The witch doctor walked out of the back room and immediately saw Matthew standing at the counter, smiling calmly. His pupils constricted as recognition flashed across his mind. He had seen Matthew earlier that morning in the crowd. Matthew's handsome face had left an impression, and his demeanor made it clear he wasn't an ordinary person. Forcing a smile, the witch doctor approached Matthew. "Sir, didn't we meet earlier today?"
"Indeed. I saw you treating someone in the crowd," Matthew replied with a slight nod, not denying their previous encounter.
"May we speak privately?" the witch doctor asked, gesturing to the room behind him.
"Since the chief healer himself is asking, how could I refuse?" Matthew replied, smiling as he followed the witch doctor.
Hearing Matthew refer to him as the chief healer, the witch doctor's eyes flashed with shock. How has this man learned of my title?! His wariness of Matthew deepened.
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