Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

Chapter 107 The Difficult but Correct Path

the next day.

Vera went back to prepare for her exams. Gordon, Charlotte, and Eve went to see Professor Winslow in the northern suburbs of Lundnim.

Although Gordon has proposed the Blackwater Syndrome, Winslow will have to step in to turn it into a real national-level project and secure substantial research funding.

Because it was summer vacation, the professor went back to the countryside. His residence, Grey Oak Estate, is located in Herfordshire, occupying a hillside all to himself. The main building is four stories high and faces a beautiful oak grove.

Gordon rode a horse, while Charlotte and Eve rode in a carriage, and they stopped in front of the professor's house.

Gordon would never have been qualified to bother the professor before, but now he is a trusted disciple of the professor and holds the major research topic of Blackwater Syndrome in his hands.

"Does the professor live here alone?" Charlotte asked as she got out of the car.

"That's pretty much it." Eve looked up; she knew Winslow better than Charlotte and Gordon. "His three sons are a lawyer and a doctor, and they all have their own careers and families."

"It sounds like a great success, except that no one is having dinner with the professor anymore," Gordon concluded.

"The professor must be very happy to see us today," Charlotte nodded vigorously.

The door opened, and a middle-aged housekeeper came out to greet them.

"The professor is already waiting for you in his study. He drank several cups of coffee when he heard you were coming," the housekeeper said kindly.

"He must be very happy to see me come back alive," Gordon remarked.

Stepping into the foyer, it wasn't as opulent as the Montfort mansion, but it was still very spacious, with scattered souvenirs, plant specimens, and maps decorating the rooms.

The rooms here are very large, each large enough to accommodate an entire family. Clearly, the Winslow family once had a lively and bustling atmosphere, but now it is excessively quiet.

"How's the renovation of Golden Oak Manor going?" Seeing other people's big houses reminded Gordon of that collapsed manor.

"After selling the rest of the monster, the money can be used to repair the wall, the outer huts, and the foundation of the first floor."

"Once the sludge industry makes more money, we can build the second floor, and maybe we can move in by this time next year." Charlotte had also thought of this.

"What are you talking about?" Professor Winslow came down from the second floor. He was wearing a brown wool vest and didn't look as stern as he did at the university.

"Professor," everyone greeted him.

"Gordon, Miss Monford—Grant." Winslow nodded to the students, his gaze falling on Eve.

"Long time no see," Eve greeted Winslow.

"How are you doing in Luming?"

"Translate, research, and publish new content."

"You occasionally participate in extremely dangerous activities, right?"

"Yes, occasionally." Eve gave a cryptic smile. "There's more to it on the mainland, and it's noisier than on Logris Island."

o

Winslow rubbed his forehead and led them to his study. Gordon glanced at Eve; only in Winslow's presence did she seem like a student.

"Eve has provided crucial assistance on several occasions in our research on the Blackwater River and the King Fisher," Gordon explained.

"I do what I can do, that's all," Eve said modestly.

"But you still stubbornly insist on proving that St. Joshua is not the only God, questioning the authority of the Royal Church, and regarding the Theological Council as a group of hypocritical scoundrels deserving of damnation." "I personally believe some of those descriptions are accurate, but we cannot exonerate you," Winslow said tactfully.

"Then I'd rather not have it."

Upon hearing Eve's answer, Winslow took a deep breath.

"We desperately need to hire her as an occult consultant on the topic of Blackwater Syndrome," Gordon tried to help. "But we won't talk about the past, we'll just look forward. She'll handle the parts she's good at, and the results will be included in the research group."

"Many people will be unhappy about this. They don't approve of the stance Eve represents," Winslow said, expressing his concerns.

"I don't understand, Professor. She's doing research, not committing a crime. Blackwater Syndrome can't be solved by working alone; we need everyone's help," Gordon said.

A complex expression appeared on Eve's face, and her gaze involuntarily fell on Gordon.

"—" Winslow thought for a moment, "—Then, Eve, you can no longer use your thesis as a weapon to attack the Royal Church."

"I'll try my best." Eve nodded to Winslow, then nodded to Gordon. "Thank you for getting me this opportunity, Mr. Vic."

"So, regarding Blackwater Syndrome—" Winslow turned to Gordon, "what progress have you made?"

"It's all here," Gordon summarized the situation.

Charlotte's collected patient case files, Gordon's experimental archives seized from Greenwood Mansion, Eve's investigation into the mystery of the Blackwater River—the documents piled up on the table. Winslow glanced at them, then at the faces of the three students, and couldn't help but feel gratified.

"Especially these," Gordon said, pointing to the message left by the doctor at Green Shade Mansion.

Winslow flipped through some of the experimental reports and immediately spotted the research on human limb reattachment, organ replacement, and abnormal tissue fusion. Some of the reports were marked with information such as "failed," "needs further observation," and "reproducible."

"This is what I often call a misguided person. I've heard of him. He used to be a very good surgeon, but then he stopped treating people like human beings. What we need to do is make the world a better place, so that everyone can live more peacefully, not cross the line of basic human decency," Winslow concluded.

"Speaking of making the world a better place—" Gordon took out a piece of paper and scribbled on it, "I plan to experiment with a treatment for Blackwater Syndrome."

According to Gordon's research, he believes that pollution circulates and settles in the human body, and direct precipitation may lead to concentrated outbreaks of pollution.

To this end, he plans to first develop a special precipitating salt that can selectively adsorb scaly crystalline salts, preventing them from continuing to circulate in the human body. Then, he plans to promote metabolism, combined with fluid replacement, electrolyte replacement, and liver and kidney protective medications, to allow the body to quickly eliminate the precipitates through excretion and sweating.

"Are you looking for a material that can 'stick' to extraordinary properties?" Winslow asked after his research.

"Yes." Gordon managed to describe a structure similar to a chelating agent.

"It's somewhat feasible, but I'm not entirely sure about it at the moment," Winslow pondered.

"—We can use the spiritual crystals of the light aspect." Eve followed Gordon's thoughts. "The nature of light restrains the nature of the sea. It can thoroughly reveal spiritual pollution, while the sediment is responsible for separating the extraordinary from the human body."

"In the intestines," Gordon thought as well. "Salt deposits are not easily absorbed by the body, but they remain remarkably active in the gut. They capture those properties, fix them in place, and eventually leave the body through metabolism and excretion."

The two quickly chatted for a few rounds, gradually sketching out the outline of the special medicine.

Winslow asked a few more questions, which Gordon answered one by one, and only then did he feel relieved.

"You've done a great job. This content is sufficient to support the construction of the research topic. From discovery, naming, classification, and even treatment. This is enough to warrant a national grant," Winslow acknowledged.

"How much?" Gordon rubbed his hands together.

"About 2500 gold pounds." Winslow said, then, seeing Gordon's reaction, realized he had misspoke. "This is the hope for curing all the infected people in the city, not for you alone."

"I understand, and I will use it reasonably and within my means—"

2500 gold pounds. Gordon felt like he was about to take off.

"In short," Winslow brought the topic back on track, "Eve is in charge of researching this photosensitive phase of precipitate, Gordon is in charge of treatment plans and experimental design, Miss Monford is in charge of collecting and classifying cases, and I'm in charge of applying for funding."

"Yes." Charlotte was pleased. She had always been considered one of the lazybones in the class, but now she had finally secured a proper academic position.

"It seems we're missing one person—" Gordon scratched his head. This is when Peter's value becomes apparent, but Peter is returning to the Ross Empire. "We need someone to keep records, handle procurement and processes, and organize our brilliant ideas."

"We need to find a suitable person to join the research group." Winslow leaned back in his chair. "This is your responsibility, Gordon."

"Understood—" Gordon became serious; he needed to select new members for this nascent Winslow School.

Winslow took out a piece of paper and signed the project registration form.

Thus, the "Blackwater Syndrome" project officially rose from a private investigation to a research project recognized by the college and even the country, and had sufficient grounds to apply for research funding.

After Charlotte and Eve left with the materials and the mission, Gordon couldn't help but ask the professor for more information.

"Does Eve really have a lot of complaints about those royal state religions and such?" he inquired.

“There’s a very subtle historical factor here, Gordon,” Winslow said, his tone complex. “In the Middle Ages, many women who showed excessive intelligence in their youth were seen as witches who had made deals with terrifying beings,” and the Church was responsible for eliminating such people. Eve naturally faced discrimination in the overly isolated village where she was born.”

"Then I completely understand." Gordon snapped out of his reverie. "Aren't you also trying to properly teach this girl who's been labeled a 'witch'?"

"I can impart knowledge, but I cannot heal wounds, regrets, prejudices, and obsessions." Winslow shook his head. "You are all still young, or rather, too young. I only hope that time will make you better people, for the road ahead is both long and arduous."

Sometimes, letting go is better than not letting go.

In the afternoon, after they had lunch, they left Professor Winslow's house.

Gordon rode a horse, Charlotte rode in a carriage, and Eve parted ways at the crossroads.

She wanted to speak a few words to Gordon alone.

"Mr. Vic." She and Gordon stood under a birch tree.

"What? You're inviting me to afternoon tea?"

"More dangerous, but also more useful than afternoon tea."

"Please speak."

"I would like to invite you to join the Primal Knowledge Conference."

Gordon and she exchanged a glance; her golden eyes held an obvious attention and curiosity.

"What was so special about that meeting?"

"This is a conference that pursues extraordinary power, held regularly at the observatory in Lundnim, where members exchange the latest news, secrets, and various clues. Gordon, the source material clues you want can be easily obtained during the conference."

arrive."

What are the requirements for joining?

"Members must use code names. We will not investigate the real identities of other members. Any dangerous information must be submitted and discussed collectively. If an action would affect the organization's security, it must be declared in advance. These are not complicated terms; most organizations do this. Gordon."

'

"Come on," Eve said, extending her hand, sincerely hoping Gordon would attend the next meeting with her. "There, the Logris Empire's finest young extraordinary individuals will gather. Your absence will diminish its luster considerably. Lost rituals, clues to source matter, intelligence from overseas, and many more wonders—"

A hint of pride lingered in her voice; it was the world she had chosen, the world she wanted Gordon to see. And she believed Gordon would change the entire landscape of the conference.

Gordon did not answer immediately.

He looked at the clouds on the horizon.

"I," Gordon shook his head, "I refuse."

"Hmm?" Eve's gaze became even more curious.

"The rules sound reasonable, but I'd rather follow my own path and care about those I truly care about."

That's a bit much to me, considering you mentioned "collaborative research" and "organizational security."

"Um--

"I do hope you'll wholeheartedly join me, join us, and make the Winslow School bigger and stronger. We won't be any worse than them," Gordon said, turning the invitation back to Eve.

Eve's smile became more subtle. She realized that Gordon was inviting her to build a future that truly belonged to them.

Do you know what this means?

"I don't know, and I never will. But I hope to be the person you've always wanted to invite but could never get the chance to invite; that way, my value would be even higher."

Eve let out a long sigh.

A strange look appeared in her eyes—approval.

Some people are suited to join a system, while others are suited to build one themselves.

Although Gordon may seem ordinary, he actually possesses a subjectivity that surpasses that of everyone else.

"You don't really seem like the right person to join this meeting, Gordon. You have your own long road ahead of you. It's made up of your whole being, your desires, and your needs, and that's fine."

"Thank you," Gordon said to Eve.

"I wish you all the best for what comes next." Eve extended her hand. "Let's part ways here for now. I have some things to take care of in this county."

"Understood. Don't forget my needs." Gordon shook hands with Eve; her hands were covered in lace gloves, and the feel of them was somewhat unique.

"I know about the powerful beast-like source essence and the powerful source essence used for reasoning. Although you refuse to come, I will tell you immediately if I obtain any clues in the trade."

"Thanks."

He returned to his horse and slowly rode away.

"Isn't she coming along?" Charlotte poked her head out of the carriage. "I heard some gibberish."

"It's nothing, Charlotte." Gordon spurred his horse forward. "Let's go our own way."