I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Richard patted his belly in the carriage, enjoying the delicious meal at the Dawn family's table.

He had just sat down in his room when the food in his stomach had already been mostly digested by his [Eating] skill.

On the panel, the progress bar for "Eating" lv.2 is full.

It was the family feast at the Dawn's house that pushed it across the finish line.

Invest points to upgrade.

[Eating] lv.2→ lv.3.

Richard closed his eyes, feeling the slight change within his body.

[Eating - Filtering]

The body has acquired significant resistance to toxins, putrefactive substances, and parasites.

The trait was activated, but Richard didn't feel anything for the time being.

He didn't go to test the poison, and there's no need to do so now.

[Eating] The most basic skills of controlling food intake and extracting all the nutrients have been solidified to an even higher level.

If I eat bland oatmeal porridge again, my body will probably cling to every single benefit of the oatmeal, not wanting to miss a single one.

After reaching level 3, Richard decided to preview the advancement requirements and traits for level 5 as well.

"【Eating】Lv.5 Unlock Conditions:"

Level 4, progress 100%;

Points 2;

"One actively ingests a portion of the resources behind the veil, or a portion of deep etheric condensate, and has it fully metabolized by the body."

"Unlock the trait - [Corruption]".

It can safely ingest and metabolize the bones and flesh of the evil beings behind the veil, as well as various low-polluting substances, without becoming contaminated, and extract usable nutrients from them.

Richard placed "filtering" and "repairing corruption" side by side in his mind, and through careful comparison using "critical thinking," he figured out the key to their success.

[Filtering] This section is for "draining".

Toxins, decay, and pests—the body recognizes them as filth, but it stubbornly pushes them out as they are, protecting itself from harm.

This is a gate; it only blocks, it doesn't take.

The segment on "Transforming Corruption" actually involves the work of "transforming".

Those bones and flesh that shouldn't even be swallowed, those pollutants that an ordinary body simply couldn't withstand...

It no longer pushes them outwards, but breaks them down, crushes them, and reassembles them into nutrients that the body can use.

Turning decay into wonder.

Richard recalled the book "Products Behind the Curtain".

In the section on "bone and flesh" in the book, the author writes very strongly: most of them are harmful, so please do not eat, wear or store them.

That phrase "Do not consume" effectively excluded the entire category of things behind the curtain from the realm of things that ordinary people couldn't even touch.

The remains of ghouls, the adipocere of swamp corpses, the flesh and blood that had rotted in the ether... just smelling them would be unlucky, let alone eating them.

However, after the [Corruption Removal] skill is activated, this line is moved.

Richard's breathing unconsciously slowed down.

Walking controls the path, sleeping controls the rest, and breathing controls the injury.

In addition, there's this [transformation into decay].

What others saw as a dead end, he found food everywhere.

It might not just be about surviving on food; it could even allow the body to advance further...

The idea was swirling in Richard's mind when he read the unlocking conditions again, and his enthusiasm cooled down considerably.

"Actively ingest a portion of the veiled resources or a portion of deep etheric condensate, and have it completely metabolized by the body."

This is somewhat like the chicken-and-egg dilemma.

【化腐】is the ability to “safely consume harmful substances”;

To unlock the [Corruption] ability, he must first consume a portion of the products from behind the curtain.

Without the protection of the "Corruption Elixir," why would he dare to eat it?

Richard thought about it and realized that it wasn't entirely hopeless.

Even the products produced behind the curtain are divided into different grades.

Those bones and flesh that are "harmful and should not be eaten" are extremely dangerous and should not be touched at the moment;

However, plants like gray clover and multi-eyed black sphagnum have low toxicity and have been soaked in ether for a short time.

With the filter acting as a gatekeeper, and by carefully taking only a tiny amount, it's not necessarily impossible to get through.

As for that "a portion of deep etheric condensate"...

Richard's gaze unconsciously drifted to the small bottle he kept close to his body.

The liquid that Prometheus gave him was originally a potent medicine for nourishing rare and precious objects and for prolonging life in times of war.

But the more I thought about it, the more I felt it was inappropriate.

That stuff is as potent as injecting adrenaline into your veins. Prometheus said it shouldn't be used to treat circulatory damage because it's "too strong."

If you were to swallow a whole portion, who knows whether you'd unlock a special ability or burn yourself out first?

Ultimately, the path through the grass and trees is the safest.

However, to meet this condition right now, we need to wait until we have enough money and choose a safe time when we can be alone and undisturbed, and where we can use [Healing] as a backup in case something goes wrong.

It can't be rushed.

Richard kept this in mind as a long-term account.

I'll get my hands on this skill of "exploiting everything behind the scenes" sooner or later.

………………

Old Bige has been working in the morgue on the second basement level for several days now.

One end of the worktable was piled with a jumbled death register, while the other end held the jobs that had just been delivered this morning.

When the stretcher was brought in, the two handymen turned their faces away.

"Mr. Bigelow, yet another body whose origins are unclear."

The older handyman placed the order slip on the table.

"It was fished out from the canal. No one came to claim it from the section near Mill Street, so I'll leave it here for now."

"Understood." Old Big waved his hand.

The handyman walked away quickly, not wanting to linger in this unlucky place for even a moment longer.

Old Big put on his reading glasses and peeled off the oilcloth.

The thing lying on the stage can no longer be called a face.

Above the cheekbones, the head was a sunken gray-black area, as if someone had hollowed out the features bit by bit.

The skin and flesh clung to the bone, as if it had been roasted by fire and soaked in water.

Old Biggs certainly recognized the influence of the Echo Society.

He followed the procedures first.

They cut open the clothes soaked in the mud of the canal to examine external injuries, measure dimensions, and record bone age.

When you get to the chest cavity, just like last time, cut off the external incision and burn it immediately.

When he got to the limbs, he lifted the deceased's left arm out of the mud and wiped it down from the shoulder with a wet cloth.

It brushes past the elbow, past the forearm, and down to the inside of the wrist.

He stopped.

There's something on the skin on the inside of my wrist.

Two small dots, with a curved arc below, form a smiley face.

The gas lamp wick burned steadily, the flame stood upright, and there wasn't a breath of wind.

Old Big looked down at the smiley face on his wrist for a long time.

He put down the damp cloth, turned the deceased's left hand over, and then over again.

She has small hands and thin wrists; she is a woman.

On the outer side of the wrist, near the ulna, there is a slight bump left after an old wound has healed.

Old Big pressed his thumb down on the bump and gave it a hard press.

More than a decade ago, I was a teahouse girl in the southern part of the capital.

She shielded a drunk customer from a shove, and her wrist hit the corner of the table.

I had just become a coroner at that time, and I knew a little about bones. I tied the girl I liked to a board for half a month.

The day she finished tying it up, she even joked that she had tied it too tightly, and her fingers were numb.

Old Big gently placed the little hand back on the table.

He straightened up, took off his reading glasses, and wiped them with his sleeve.

The smiling face is still there; it was drawn when I learned she had tuberculosis.

The girl said to him, "Don't keep that long face, boss. It makes me feel like I'm about to die."

Having no other choice, he picked up a piece of underburnt charcoal from beside the stove and drew a smiley face on the inside of her wrist.

He said at the time, "Look, now someone is laughing for you. Look at this when you feel like crying."

She actually laughed.

Old Big stood motionless in front of the stage.

One by one, the broken threads in my mind were reconnected.

This is exactly what he has been doing all his life.

Evidence cannot speak for itself; he has to piece it together one by one.

The Ying Sheng Society specifically targets those who are about to die.

In a city, the number of people nearing death is the highest.

Their last breath was caught from below by a hand.

If you catch it, you become a tool.

She remained in this half-dead state as the anchor of the response, for over a decade.

Old Big's Adam's apple bobbed.

After going around in circles for more than a decade, she finally returned to where she was.

"...You know where you should drift."

He reached out and brushed back a strand of muddy hair from the deceased's forehead.

………………

Richard went to the branch office as usual on Sunday, but didn't see anyone.

When asked, the young clerk on duty turned a page in the register.

"Old Big," the clerk said without looking up.

"It's been soaking underground for the past few days. It goes down early in the morning and doesn't come up until evening."

"The autopsy room?"

"Um."

Richard didn't ask any more questions and went downstairs.

The thick wooden door to the autopsy room was ajar.

Richard knocked, and Old Big's voice came from inside, sounding a bit more muffled than usual.

"Enter."

He pushed the door open and went in.

There were no corpses on the worktable, only a tall stack of death registration books, which were flipped through in a mess.

Old Big sat behind the table, wearing reading glasses, holding a yellowed old file in his hand, his eyes unfocused.

The copper penny he usually twirled between his fingers lay quietly on the table, unmoved.

"They're here." Old Big raised his eyes slightly, then lowered them again.

"Have you been down there the whole time these past few days?" Richard pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Um."

"What are you translating?"

Old Biggs pressed his hand on the old file.

"Found some old stuff." He mumbled a reply, closing the file. "Nothing much."

Richard looked at him.

After dealing with him for the past six months, Richard has always remembered Old Big as a chatterbox.

He can spin a penny between his fingers and make it look like a magic trick, but he's also a loose cannon fodder.

He could rattle off Mrs. Mary's quotes, stories of his mentors, and the intricacies of autopsy without hesitation.

But today, old Big was unusually quiet.

The copper penny lay motionless on the table, its gaze constantly drifting towards the stack of registers.

"Old Big," Richard said softly, "what happened?"

"It's nothing." Old Big waved his hand and poured himself a cup of tea.

"It's just that... when people get old, they tend to bring up old grievances and remember all sorts of things."

He took a sip of tea and casually mentioned it.

"Oh, right."

"A couple of days ago, I saw a black dog by the small river east of the slag alley."

Richard's heart sank.

I've seen the black dog in a book before.

Nemesis also spoke about this at the Theological Salon.

A product of the Empire's homeland, a natural phenomenon-level harbinger of doom.

Those who have seen the black dog will encounter a major misfortune within three days to three months.

Those who are followed by it all night almost never survive the month.

"Black Dog?" Richard's voice tightened. "How...is it?"

"He squatted there and stared at me for a long time."

Old Big smiled dismissively:

"It was all black and shiny, it glanced at me twice and then left."

He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

"Even black dogs would find someone like me unlucky."

Richard sat on the stool, feeling cold all over.

The black dog stared at old Beagle for a long time.

This isn't just a quick glance and a walk away; they've got their eyes on them.

"Old Beagle," Richard straightened up, "you should know what a black dog is, right?"

"I know," old Big said, sipping his tea. "It's an old folk belief. What, you believe in this too?"

"It's not a matter of whether I believe it or not."

Richard's expression was very serious:

"Whoever the black dog is targeting is likely to be in trouble. Have you... gotten yourself into some trouble lately?"

Old Big's hand paused for a moment.

"Old Big," Richard raised his voice, "what exactly were those things you turned over?"

"It's nothing." Old Big pressed the old file under the register.

"I already said it's nothing. It's just a single old man reminiscing about the past. Don't overthink it."

"Come with me to the capital," Richard suddenly suggested.

Old Big was completely bewildered: "Go to the capital? What would I do in the capital?"

"I'll be leaving at the end of May," Richard said, looking at him.

"Come with me to Mrs. Mary's place. You can go and stay with your teacher for a while."

"Avoid what?" Old Big laughed. "Just because a black dog glanced at me twice?"

"It can't hurt to avoid it."

"Kid."

Old Big finally picked up the copper penny, but held it between his fingers without turning it.

"When I do things, my hands don't shake. If something really happens, no one will lose sleep over it."

"Don't say things like that again," Richard frowned.

"I'm telling the truth."

Old Big put the penny back on the table.

"Don't mention going to the capital again."

"With so many people dying lately, my autopsy work can't be done without human intervention."

"Mind your own business," he waved his hand.

"Summer training is important, but taking the college entrance exam is the most important thing in your life. Don't let an old man like me distract you."

Richard wanted to persuade him further, but old Big had already dragged over the stack of registers and put his reading glasses back on.

"Go ahead," he said without looking up. "Go do your thing, I'm busy here."

Richard stood there, saying nothing more.

He could sense that old Big was hiding something from him.

But the other party refused to speak or leave.

"Old Big," Richard asked again before leaving.

"If you change your mind, just let me know. I'll buy you a train ticket to the capital."

Old Big didn't look up, he just waved his hand.

"understood."