The man was dressed in a gloomy black color, and the cross hanging from the necklace in his hand was pointing at Song Wenchuan sharply.
His voice was raspy as he pressed his palms against the chaise lounge and sat up.
Inside the simply decorated room, there was a huge bookshelf against the wall filled with various books. Apart from that, there was just a chaise lounge and an office desk.
The air smelled old and woody.
Mixed with the weird atmosphere was a ridiculous scene.
"Mr. Song?"
"A hypnotist?"
The two spoke in unison and paused.
They looked at each other and the priest's calm blue eyes began to shift.
"You must be the alternate personality in Mr. Song's body. Mr. Song, do you remember what just happened?"
He spoke fluent Mandarin. Without looking at his face, one would think he was a locally-born Chinese.
"Alternate personality?" Song Wenchuan held his head and laughed. "No, I am my own individual person."
