The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

But thanks to the Moth Disciple's special sensitivity to "dissonant" factors, he still managed to glimpse something amiss during the duration of this lucid dream.

When this secret technique is in the state of "law", its overall structure presents an extremely self-consistent closed loop. However, when it is in the state of "fallacy", it will show a strange instability, just like an equal sign that should not exist appears between unequal numbers.

"--I see."

When the inchworm opened its eyes again, it was already the next morning.

"Stability comes at the cost of limitation, while disorder is rewarded by the removal of shackles. Using [Unequal Delivery] will come at a greater cost, and since the spell itself should not even be possible, the success rate is hard to guarantee."

"All of the above prerequisites are exchanged for the fact that the types of things that can be exchanged are no longer limited to 'inorganic matter'. As long as one is willing to pay a sufficient price, this secret technique can even directly exchange the other party's heart or brain... It should not be underestimated."

After finishing his study of the esoteric arts, he glanced at the clock on the wall.

It was already 6:30 a.m., and he needed to organize his findings, then quickly wash up before heading to the classroom to teach his students before 8:00 a.m.

-

The headquarters of the Hunters of Mysteries, the preparation room bathroom.

Under the showerhead, the cold liquid slid down Haida's collarbone to her ribs, then along the neat and clear muscle lines of her abdomen, down her calves and ankles, and finally into the circular drain on the floor.

A misty white fog enveloped her.

Logically, a cold shower shouldn't create steam. The reason the bathroom is filled with steam is because of Haida's body temperature, which is significantly higher than the human limit, and the hot breath she exhales further intensifies the evaporation of the water.

The palpitations and mania were hard to calm down.

But it didn't seem like the premonition of falling into madness. Sister Lin's intuition told her that this seemed to be a beneficial transformation... It was hard to describe the specific feeling.

Haida inhaled deeply, then exhaled, completing one gas cycle.

She brushed a strand of damp hair from her forehead, reached for the bathroom shelf beside her, and took a vial containing a crimson liquid from the hanging funeral maid's armor. It was a blood extract specially provided by Fran.

Heda opened the seal on the test tube and drank the contents in one gulp.

The burning, throat-searing madness, the deep-seated instability, and the pure desire for violence all subsided in that instant. However, Dr. Fran's blood was not an inhibitor; it was actually more like a catalyst... With each sip, the nun felt a kind of "sublimation" drawing ever closer.

During Dr. Fran's last quarterly rounds, Heida handled the vast majority of the frontal battles, which alleviated her anxiety to some extent.

But it's not enough.

She yearned for life-or-death struggles in the hunt, for tearing apart tough bodies with claws and teeth, for the exhilarating feeling of draining the last bit of strength from her heart. Other desires, however, she refused to speak of and completely relinquished.

That is the deep hunger of killing and chewing the prey, swallowing it whole.

This hunger seemed to be able to be satisfied only by blood and flesh imbued with spirituality, and perhaps Dr. Fran gave her several vials of his own blood in order to quench this peculiar appetite.

"It takes longer to clean myself than before."

Heda turned off the showerhead, then picked up a towel and began to scrub her skin and hair with a delicate yet rough touch until her entire body was dry again.

After that, she put on her undergarments, lining, and the complete nun's armor, layer by layer.

"Hopefully, Dr. Fran didn't have to wait too long."

As the water stopped flowing and the pattering sound faded, the nun faintly caught a whiff of Fran's scent.

Clearly, the doctor had arrived in the preparation room at some point.

Haida pushed open the bathroom door, and following the scent of osmanthus that lingered in her nostrils, she quickly fixed her gaze on the figure sitting upright on the sofa.

Fran was lying on his back, his slender legs, encased in black silk stockings, were gracefully crossed at an angle. At the same time, he kept reaching into his small wicker basket, taking out soda crackers and putting them in his mouth.

"Hmm~ Your eyes show no surprise at all. It seems that even while taking a bath, Haida, your senses haven't relaxed."

Fran's slightly puffed cheeks twitched as he swallowed the vanilla-sweet soda cracker.

Although the man wore his usual smile, a hint of melancholy flickered in his clear, amber eyes. He seemed slightly disappointed that Haida had emerged from the bathroom wearing a full nun's robe instead of just a towel.

“Dr. Fran, after undergoing the ‘Primitiveization Surgery,’ all my senses except for vision have been greatly enhanced, with the greatest increase being in my sense of smell. Your scent is very unique and familiar to me, so it is relatively easy for me to distinguish it.”

Haida offered an explanation.

After approaching the sofa and sitting down next to Fran, she inquired about his purpose for coming.

"Is there something you need to tell me about your arrival at the Order of the Hunters?"

Although Dr. Fran would visit her occasionally when there was nothing urgent, he generally wouldn't choose to appear directly in the cult's preparation room. What would usually prompt her to make a special trip was related to a new patient she had carefully selected…

By now, Heda had a better understanding of Fran's criteria for judging patients, but she still didn't quite understand how Fran found these people.

When asked by the nun, Fran frankly explained the purpose of his trip.

“Dear Hedda, I would like to know if there have been any missing persons cases in Norlington recently? Not just known local residents, but also illegal immigrants and homeless people on the outskirts of the city.”

　SouSUo:si¨2/＜≥≤糁］≤三∥?〇□×wu “有”.

Hai Da readily admitted to the situation and then explained what she knew.

"The security situation in the city has been quite stable recently. However, according to an observer in charge of the northern suburbs, the number of homeless people and the homeless population appears to have decreased slightly. This was just a routine report sent to headquarters yesterday, and there is no further evidence at present."

“Some suburban border areas border the Black Wasteland, where supervision and control are relatively weak, and the Secret Service only obtains information by embedding a few simple intelligence stations.”

Upon hearing this, Fran clasped her hands together, a smile appearing in her eyes, as if Haida's words confirmed her thoughts.

October is coming to an end, and her monthly house call is being triggered in the last few days of the month.

[Dear Dr. Fran, the monthly outpatient appointment for October has been triggered. The target is two random 'Skinners' within the city limits of Norrington with an erosion level of 50% or higher, suffering from the 'Shedding Plague (Mild)' disease.]

Please find patients yourself this month and complete the treatment process within this month.

Besides providing precise medical services to an individual, Fran sometimes also needs to heal groups suffering from plague or deep pain. This is often done on a charitable basis, without seeking any return other than the "monthly house call" fee.

The problem is that the patient's location was not mentioned in this month's case information, which made her feel somewhat embarrassed...

Although obtaining intelligence posed no technical difficulty for her, as a doctor, she lacked interest in anything outside her job description. Fortunately, the information provided by Haida helped her determine the patient's approximate location.

The area has shrunk from the entire Norrington region to the northern suburbs, to at least one-sixth of its original size.

"So, I wonder if Sister Haida has any free time today to accompany me to the northern border?"

Fran gently fiddled with the soda crackers in her hand, glancing up at Haida.

-

-

soup!

Chapter Seventy-Four: Swaddling Clothes

North of Norlington, on the outskirts of the city.

Fran and Heda were strolling along the dilapidated and desolate streets of the border region. When the two were not speaking, the only sounds were the echoes of their thick-soled leather shoes and hunting boots.

Clearly, the nun did not refuse Fran's invitation to travel.

As one of the few funeral directors, she no longer needed to perform most of the routine patrol work, but when she had spare time, she would still instinctively squeeze such things into her schedule.

What have Vivian and Bebesa been up to lately?

Fran looked up at Haida beside him and asked a question.

Although it was a long time since the two of them had traveled together, out of the doctor's habit, she still expressed her concern for Vivian and Bebeza.

“Vivian is currently at the intelligence station in the Southern District, handling liaison with the Six-Eyed Raven Order. The Raiders want to open an auction house in Norrington through their relationship with the White Cup Order, and the Hunters need to conduct a security review.”

"As for Bebesa, she was assigned to Vivian's group, along with that little nun named Eve."

In peacetime, the requisition attendants tend to travel alone, which is an unspoken custom in the funeral home.

Therefore, when Haida was promoted, she was only a nominal superior to her former team members, but the original organizational structure remained unchanged.

In short, Vivian will become the commander of the task force if Haida does not take the initiative to take over.

Given that Bebeza was a saber-toothed creature without preparatory training, she desperately needed an experienced and reliable senior as a guide. Therefore, Vivian, who had demonstrated exceptional abilities during the upheaval in Gormouth, took on this important task.

"It seems Vivian will be quite busy with her fifth period."

Fran briefly imagined Vivian with a saber-toothed creature and a serious young nun, and couldn't help but sigh.

In some ways, the detective is indeed the most reliable of the three.

Due to the special need to travel across the northern border, Fran was wearing the Ahantasaury robe from Dorothy, while Haida had added a dark leather overcoat to her original funeral maid robe.

While this attire prevented others from immediately identifying the Sea Dare Hunter, it only amplified the sense of intimidation it exuded. After all, few could feel truly safe around a hooded figure over six feet tall with cold eyes, carrying a two-handed straight sword...

"The northern border is still as desolate as ever, and there seem to be even fewer pedestrians than last time I came. Hmm~ maybe it's because 'Hungry Club' was still open back then?"

Homeless people leaning against the street walls occasionally glanced up at the two walking figures, but averted their gaze upon seeing Haida's physique and weapons. Hunger can drive people to abandon reason and commit mad acts, but that doesn't mean they've forgotten their fear of death.

As Fran and Haida approached the border between the northern outskirts and the Black Wasteland, the number of pedestrians around them dwindled, and most of the buildings were closed, showing signs of being abandoned and vacant.

"Just here."

Haida stopped in her tracks and refused to move forward.

Seeing the nun's trembling throat and lips, Fran immediately understood her intention and did not stop her.

"Ah."

Before Fran could finish his reply, dark, murky scales of dust oozed from Haida's lips.

The smoke-like or ash-like dust spread out as if it were alive, silently covering every shadow and every corner of the alleyway.

Although the principle is no different from breathing dragon breath, in terms of effect, it is merely a means of expanding the range of perception.

Seeing the scene before him, Fran lightly raised his index finger and scratched his cheek, feeling inexplicably guilty.

Fortunately, she had made sufficient preparations for the prototype surgery and made personalized adjustments to the compatibility of the Black Erosion Dragon's genome... This allowed Haida to control whether the scattered scale dust exhibited biological activity through her subjective consciousness.

Without this measure, given the range and speed at which Haida spreads her scales, it would probably only take less than a week for at least half of Norrington's population to contract the Mad Dragon Disease, just like the flowerbeds in front of one's house would wither and fall due to the disease, leaving the gardener to be responsible for the aftermath.

However, if we consider a different approach, and deploy Haida in combat zones where the threat of disease is not a concern, then perhaps she could be used as a tactical, large-scale biological weapon.

After waiting a moment, Haida opened her eyes and slowly spoke.

"At the seven o'clock direction, deep in the alley, there is a very faint smell of blood. It is accompanied by the rancid smell of large areas of subcutaneous fat exposed to the air."

The smell of blood is extremely common on the northern border; both natural and unnatural deaths are frequent occurrences there. What truly drew Heda's attention was the rancid odor of oxidized fat.

"let's go."

With his goal clear, Fran patted his cheeks.

This action lessened the languor in her eyes, replaced by a renewed enthusiasm for work as she prepared to open for business.

-

Norrington, in the northernmost part of the Black Moor, is a desperate temporary home for the homeless, a place devoid of hope and future. All access to the outside world is cut off, like a deep well without ladders or ropes.

In the older administrative divisions, this area was also once part of Norrington.

However, during the end-of-period catastrophic event, this boundary was completely destroyed, almost turning into scorched earth.

As for the period after the beginning of the millennium, it was deemed to have no value for redevelopment and was thus abandoned. Even those at the very bottom of the social hierarchy, as long as they existed within this framework and had the possibility of sustaining their lives, would never come here. VIII.

As for why these homeless communities formed...

This is probably because illegal immigrants, wanted criminals, heretics, and people escaping debt but unable to flee to other countries need a sufficiently dark and deserted corner.

"Cough..." Three

A thin, almost emaciated figure was curled up on the bed, coughing intermittently. Several pools of bright red blood could be faintly seen beside the bed. They were dried, congealed bloodstains vomited on the floor.

Another person stood by the bed, holding a shriveled, hardened piece of black bread. Fortunately, it didn't appear to be moldy, and might still be edible.

The person keeping him company by the bedside would occasionally offer him black bread, but he seemed to have no desire to chew it.

"Brother Lu Xien, I don't want to eat anything. Don't worry about me anymore..."

Marlowe's voice was weak and feeble; with each syllable he forced out of his throat, the flame of his life seemed to dim a little more, and his eyes were as unfocused and lifeless as those of a terminally ill patient on the verge of death.

The man called Lu Xien trembled almost imperceptibly when he heard his voice, but his posture remained stubborn.

However, he put down the black bread in his hand and instead handed over water in a simple wooden bowl.

This time, Marlowe did not refuse, but silently sipped the liquid in the bowl. The water was not murky, or rather, the water itself was relatively clear, but one could see strands of crimson settling at the bottom of the bowl.

Without a doubt, it was blood.

Looking closer, there were several bloodstains on the black bread that Lucien had handed over. So, was it blood that he had inadvertently stained the bread and the bowl of water with when he killed their original owners?

It seems not.

The bloodstains on the bread weren't splattered; instead, they were neatly arranged human handprints. The shape and size of the handprints matched Lucien's perfectly.

For a fleeting moment, the dim daylight, obscured by clouds and mist, shone through the curtains and fell upon Lu Xien.