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

Percy reluctantly went to open the window to ventilate the room.

Gordon asked the students to step back a little.

Then ask Peter to get a rubber tube.

Finally, Gordon made a small incision under the organ Charlotte said would swell, inserted a tube, and connected the other end to a valve-controlled gas collection bottle.

He slowly pushed the catheter in, and the internal outline of the rabid dog's corpse, the changes in air pressure, the resistance as the catheter moved forward... all entered his nerves layer by layer.

Although he couldn't see, he was able to accurately penetrate the catheter into the rabid dog's chest cavity.

It's like going into a coal mine without a lamp, relying solely on the wind and echoes to determine your direction.

Most students only saw Gordon insert a tube into the body, but Winslow realized that the tube was exploring the area of ​​greatest pressure in the chest cavity.

Gordon stopped what he was doing and opened the brass valve on the gas collecting cylinder.

Squeak...!

The big dog barked!

A sharp exhaust whistle suddenly sounded, almost like the whistle used by factories when people are leaving or starting get off work.

The murky gas, carrying tar, rushed wildly into the gas collecting bottle. Within seconds, the entire bottle looked as black as someone with late-stage lung cancer and began to shake violently. Peter had to use both hands to hold it down.

The students in the front row crowded around and saw what was happening. They wiped the cold sweat from their foreheads, and several girls backed away in fright.

If Percy had made that slash, the high-pressure corpse gas, mixed with the rotten tissue, would have burst forth.

At that time, everyone's faces will turn as black as their uniforms.

After letting go of the rabid dog's pent-up anger, Gordon magnanimously waved goodbye.

"Let's go, Percy," Gordon said.

"Thank you for your permission," Percy said through gritted teeth.

"You're welcome."

Percy opened the chest cavity with bone forceps; his movements were precise and efficient.

Gordon observed from the sidelines.

Interestingly, Gordon noticed that its lungs were severely deformed and enlarged, and that in addition to the normal lung lobes, it had an extra set of "accessory lungs" that were stained black by tar and formed a thin shell.

  

If a normal animal looked like that, it would have died long ago.

But this is a demon.

Coal smoke, burning fires, and factories... this alien demon grew up in harsh industrial environments.

The soot damaged the lungs, causing accessory lungs to grow. A vocal sac grew in the throat to produce a faint sound, attracting the attention of workers leaving get off work. Like the Deepclaw demon, it evolved well-developed forelimbs for crawling in narrow spaces.

Perhaps it was originally just an ordinary dog, but under the influence of extreme environments, it turned into a demon.

Gordon couldn't help but connect it with Vera's situation.

Environment shapes life.

If you put a rabid dog in an environment without fire or industry, will the abnormality in its body gradually dissipate?

Is it possible that it will eventually become a normal dog?

Just like mediating Vera's source substance illness.

Although the spark of civilization was started from seven plus eight, the direction was clearly correct.

"Found it... This thing is indeed a demon. You wouldn't find this in a dog's belly." Percy dug an unusual gland out of the center of the rabid demon's chest cavity.

It was dark red, covered with charred black lines, and shone faintly in Gordon's eyes.

[Burning gland. Energy is about to run out.]

"If this Otherworldly being had continued its evil deeds any longer," Winslow concluded, "it might have become a true Source."

“If that’s the case,” student John pushed up his glasses, “…should the factory just let it continue harming people? Wouldn’t it be even more valuable if a source substance appeared within it?”

John regretted asking the question as soon as he finished; it made the person uncomfortable.

But everyone in the class started to get excited.

Source material signifies wealth and power. If the price is merely the deaths of a few people...

"Yes, even higher." Winslow calmly affirmed this judgment. "In principle, Source Matter can indeed appear in extreme environments, and natural science does not make moral decisions. But I hope my students have a basic understanding that humanity pursues Source Matter to make human life better. If you use others as a price simply for Source Matter, please be prepared to be used as a price by others one day."

Everyone silently remembered it.

……

When the bell rang, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Some people immediately took off their gloves and aprons, while others went to find train tickets back home. This was the last class before the Relief Day holiday.

"You can leave if you want, but don't forget, I'll be collecting today's autopsy report on the first class after the holiday," Winslow said.

The students let out a groan and had to return to record all their observations of the large dog.

Gordon was still thinking about the rabies demon when Winslow called him back.

"Gorden," he said, "do you know why I put you in charge of supervising the other students?"

"Because I am brilliant and handsome, and possess a leadership quality that you can still keenly detect, even though I try my best to hide it," Gordon said.

"no."

Winslow denied it very quickly, as if he had expected Gordon to give that answer.

"Peter can't handle it all by himself."

"No, not exactly," Winslow said slowly and deliberately.

That's because of me...

"I lent you books, gave you samples, and let you participate in experiments privately—that's something only you and I know. But sooner or later, you'll have to act on my behalf, speak for me, and even publish some papers," Winslow interrupted.

"Understood." Gordon nodded. "I need to become Winslow's student first."

"More or less," Winslow replied knowingly.

"But I feel there's another purpose behind it..."

“Of course,” Winslow said. “Someone came to the school today looking for someone who could be of use. I have to see how each student performs before I can decide who to recommend.”

"Who?"

"Ah...he's here."

Gordon followed Winslow's gaze.

Soon after, a man dressed in a black trench coat, wearing an octagonal badge, and with a face as cold as a dead man, arrived in the classroom, and all the students suddenly stopped talking.

An investigator for the Bureau of Otherworldly Affairs.

Gordon still remembers that during the incident where the old house was flooded with monkeys, the housekeeper desperately tried to prevent the agency from coming to inspect.

Now, an investigator comes before Gordon.

He pondered for a moment, probably not about whether he had blown Harold to pieces or dismantled the pumping station.

What they were more concerned about was... the Blackwater River.

Gordon has a wealth of information about the Blackwater River, ranging from esoteric Buddhism and the Deepclaw Demons to mermaids. If he were to reveal everything, it would be enough for a person to investigate for a lifetime.

"Welcome." Gordon stepped forward.

The visitor did not shake hands.

"Martin Hott." Investigator Martin took out a notebook.

[The Record Book of the Otherworldly Affairs Bureau. Recording your every word and action.]

"I am Gordon Vick."

"You said you wanted to check the students' backgrounds," Martin said, turning to Winslow.

"I thought you would arrive in the middle of class," Winslow said. "Now you'll just have to listen to me dictate."

"I checked the school's security measures on the way," Martin said, glancing at the opened demon corpse. "I see you've prepared for an autopsy."

“Yes,” Winslow said. “Since you have a need to recruit trainee investigators, I will also test everyone’s prospects. A comprehensive exercise can often reveal the individual character and habits of the students.”

Recruiting trainee investigators.

Gordon's heart skipped a beat.

It turns out that the dog's corpse was an exam paper, and everything was a test.

The professor is too cunning; he doesn't say anything, he just wants to see how valuable everyone's qualifications are.

Fortunately, I didn't mess around and finished the autopsy properly.

"Gordon Vick released the air pressure from the rabid demon's chest, averting an experimental accident. John Seymour recorded all the monster's information. Charlotte Monford discovered the sac-like structure on the monster's neck. Mr. Percy Graham opened the demon's chest cavity and found the anomalous organ," Winslow summarized.

The people whose names were mentioned stopped packing and listened to the conversation.

"Peter Gershkovich," Martin said, turning to Peter, "I heard you're in charge of the department's daily logistics. What are your thoughts on these college students?"

"Gorden is brave and can handle things on his own. Really, he can manage everything himself and doesn't need anyone to worry about him." Peter first said a few good things about Gordon. "John works very hard in his studies and life. Percy buys all his own supplies. And Miss Montfort is a college student too."

Charlotte's expression froze.

Martin silently ranked these people in his mind.

Winslow waved, and a few students followed.

"...I initially came here after reading the professor's paper published in a journal," Martin said. "It was a paper describing the effects of the precipitates on the Deepclaws. It mentioned that someone had made a judgment before the professor, but no contributors were clearly named."

Ah, that newsletter has been published. (Gordon Passage)

When anyone studies why the Deepclaw demons are attracted to a drop of water, they will first turn to this little record by Gordon and Winslow.

It has indeed been recorded in academic history.

"Gordon, what do you have to say?" Winslow said.

"I am the contributor who wishes to remain anonymous," Gordon said modestly. "I stumbled upon the truth while making a series of mistakes and finally decided to dedicate my academic work to the professor."

Martin sized up Gordon.

He wore an inexpensive coat and an ordinary uniform, but his eyes were bright and piercing.

"I don't need humble people. Winslow has a great eye for you," Martin said.

"You could say that," Gordon said.

Martin took out a long, thin sample bottle with a sealing wax cap on the mouth.

It contained only a few milliliters of murky water, with coal-gray flocculent matter settled at the bottom and a layer of oily sheen on the surface.

Gordon could even see a familiar spiritual glow; he knew this stuff as well as the soup in the cafeteria.

The faint glow within the mutated fish, the river water drawn by Harold's ritual, and the aura that the Living Water Compass would track.

A certain water-based spirituality.

"This is a sample taken from the lungs of the drowned person on the shore of Aston Street," Martin said. "The deceased was in a third-floor bedroom with intact doors and windows, and there was no water inside to drown him."

Gordon stared intently.

[Waste liquid. A byproduct of low-temperature coking.]

[Foam. A fermentation product of blood, grease, and excrement; it is not yet determined which department should be responsible.]

Brown algae. Enduring pollution for so long, they finally succumbed to their anger.

Other students gathered around to take a look and offered a few judgments.

"It looks filthy," Percy said. "Is there a dirty water tank near the deceased's residence?"

"Yes," Martin said simply.

"It has a... tar-like texture," John said. "Like industrial waste."

"But there aren't many factories near Aston Street, so they wouldn't make the drinking water this dirty," Charlotte said.

"It's possible that the water tank hasn't been cleaned for a long time, causing air pollution to fall into it, and then the animal carcasses rotted," John added.

"There are patches of brown algae inside." Peter stared at it. "It needs sunlight to grow, but household water tanks are all covered."

"To confirm the source, a three-day sedimentation analysis is needed," Winslow concluded.

"Gordon Vick?" Martin looked at him. "How long will it take you?"

"Now," Gordon said, "it all depends on whether you're willing to answer one question."