I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

After a simple lunch, the two flagged down a clanging tram at a street corner, paid two nickels, and squeezed into a seat at the back of the carriage.

The tram traveled west through the central green space of New Haven, eventually stopping in front of a building on the west side of the city that looked like a private museum.

Stepping off the tram, Evan looked up at both sides of the street.

"Look at their city planning."

He couldn't help but sigh.

The streets of Bolton were haphazardly built along the coastline and hills during the colonial era a century ago, crooked and twisted, like a tangled mess.

New Haven is completely different.

The entire city is centered around a central green space, with streets spreading out in a neat nine-square grid pattern.

The brick and stone pavement was well maintained, and neat rows of elm trees lined both sides of each street. The lampposts were all cast iron in style.

Ivan turned his gaze away from the street and onto the somewhat old, three-story detached house in front of them.

A bronze plaque hangs above the main entrance.

Armitage Museum.

"This is……?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

Hill had already climbed the three granite steps leading to the door.

"University of Michigan's office in New Haven."

She pushed open the oak door.

The small brass bell on the lintel rang out with a clear, crisp sound.

The two went inside.

Upon entering, you'll find a relatively spacious hall.

Several rows of dark red wooden display shelves were placed side by side on both sides. All sorts of strange and unusual antiques were displayed on the shelves.

A blackened bronze candlestick with a bird head pattern that is now barely discernible.

A human skull carved from crystal, with two small, dark red gemstones embedded deep in the eye sockets.

A stone slab with erosion marks on its surface, on which a few lines of unfamiliar characters can be vaguely seen.

There was also a small skeleton in a glass case, the type of animal of which was not clearly visible.

The entire hall was filled with a mixture of smells of old paper, sandalwood furniture, and some kind of spice of unknown origin.

Behind the reception desk directly in front of us sat an elderly gentleman with gray hair and wearing round reading glasses.

He was wearing a snow-white shirt with a dark green wool vest over it, and was looking down at a thick leather-bound book.

His overall demeanor is somewhat similar to that of Professor Mons from the University of the Wise.

The same meticulousness, the same scholarly air.

But the fine lines around his eyes were deeper, his brow bones were more prominent, and he looked energetic, like an old sword that was mottled but still sharp.

In a corner of the hall, several young people who looked like college students were carefully arranging the items on the display shelves, wiping each exhibit with white gloves.

Hill led Evan to the counter.

"Dr. Armitage."

Her tone carried a rare hint of respect.

"I'm bothering you again."

The old man looked up, smiled and nodded at her, then his gaze fell on Evan.

A glint of light flashed in those eyes behind the reading glasses for a fleeting moment.

"People from Arkham?"

Hill nodded.

She gave a brief and organized overview of Evan's situation.

He successfully transformed into a Witcher, single-handedly killed an apprentice-level Bloodthirsty Beast, developed a high tolerance for potions, and received a homecoming invitation that was to be delivered on December 31st.

"Doctor," she said in a low voice at the end.

"You've dealt with that person before. I'd like to hear your advice."

Dr. Armitage took off his reading glasses, carefully wiped the lenses with his shirt cuff, and then put them back on.

He didn't answer immediately, but instead scrutinized Ivan for a long time with a slow and precise gaze.

"The date is wrong."

He finally spoke.

"I can't tell anything."

He sat up straight again and closed the leather-bound book.

"However, a demon hunter who hasn't even become a formal apprentice was able to kill an apprentice-level Bloodthirsty Demon. His drug resistance is quite strong."

He nodded to Evan.

"Kid, you've got some talent."

He paused for a moment.

"Interested in being a researcher?"

Ivan grinned.

"I'll do it if you pay me."

Armitage paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Quite pragmatic."

He stood up, leaning on the counter, and pointed to the old oak chair behind Evan.

"There's money to be made. The reward for completing an investigation mission ranges from five to one hundred dollars, depending on the difficulty."

"Although there is no basic salary, you can be affiliated with the University of Michigan."

"Their status is equivalent to that of a police detective. They can legally carry firearms and access police files."

"If anything happens to you, as long as it's for the sake of maintaining world stability, we'll get you out of there."

He picked up the blue-and-white porcelain teacup from the counter and took a sip.

"You can also come to the University of Michigan for further studies in the future."

After hearing this, Ivan grinned even more broadly.

"What else is there to say?"

He took the initiative to step forward.

"Please give me a contract."

The subsequent process proceeded without any setbacks.

Armitage led the two to the inner room behind the counter and took out a beautifully printed contract from a locked oak cabinet.

Evan read the contract twice, word for word, and then signed his name at the end.

Armitage got up and went to the black telephone by the wall, shook the handle a few times, and connected to a police station number.

After a brief exchange, Evan's identity was officially registered in the police system.

When he returned to the counter, he had a small, dark blue notebook in his hand.

The cover is made of soft cowhide, with the Miskatonic University crest embossed in gold.

Opening the inner pages, the first page is a temporary photograph of him, taken by Armitage just now with an old-fashioned shutter camera.

Below is his name, age, and registration date.

Turning to the next page, one finds a dense array of stamps from the City Hall and the New Haven Police Department.

Ivan gently stroked the edge of the small notebook with his thumb, a sense of indescribable peace welling up inside him.

Legal status.

Legal possession of firearms.

Legal access to files.

For a poor student from the bottom of society, this little blue notebook represents a leap in his status!

After their identities were processed, the three of them went up to the second floor together.

Armitage's office is located on the west side of this small building.

The windows face the central green space, where the light is soft.

The office furnishings, like the old gentleman himself, were simple, clean, and everything was in its proper place.

One wall is a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, crammed with all kinds of leather-bound books and scrolls.

On the other wall hung a yellowed old map, marked with place names Ivan had never heard of before.

At the very heart of it is a small town, circled in red, called Dunwich.

Armitage sat behind the dark oak desk.

He extended his hand to Ivan after Ivan sat down.

It was a small bag that looked to be made of thick cowhide.

"This is?"

Ivan took it with a puzzled look.

Armitage smiled.

"Open it and take a look."

Ivan bent down and untied the thin string at the top of the bag.

There were four small glass bottles neatly arranged inside.

Each bottle was wrapped and secured in soft cashmere fabric, sealed with wax, and had a small handwritten label affixed to the cap.

"A magic potion?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

Armitage nodded.

"Consider this a perk for your generation of new witchers entering the profession."

His voice carried a hint of proud gentleness.

"The University of Michigan is the only university in the world that offers formal degrees in occultism and alchemy."

"Sixty percent of the potions consumed by your lineage of witchers today are provided by us."

He nodded toward the bag.

"It can save your life in a critical moment."

Hill then stood beside Evan, his tone unusually solemn.

"Evan, let me formally introduce you."

"Dr. Henry Armitage. A legend at the University of Michigan! A guardian of truth! A true hero of humanity! A legendary investigator!"

She looked directly into Evan's eyes.

"He is a truly steadfast and righteous master. My senior brother and I have absolute trust in him."

"If you ever encounter anything that defies common sense, you can consult the doctor."

Armitage was a little embarrassed by the straightforward praise. He laughed and waved his hand.

"That little girl has such a sweet tongue."

He leaned back in his chair.

"I'm old."

He looked out the window at the central green space.

"It's your world now, the world of young people."