Rhodes Island does not exist.

The Doctor let out a breath.

That leaves only moving forward.

"There are still thirty-two sections to go," the doctor said quietly.

In his mind, this is what the map of this corridor looks like.

From the number 1 he first carved on the outer wall to the number 16 he carved and saw the number 1 on the inner wall—this marks the end of the surface path in this corridor and the beginning of the inner path.

Therefore, when he moves from the number 1 on the inner wall to the number 16 on the inner wall, he will inevitably see the number 1 on the outer wall. This marks the end of the inner journey and the beginning of the outer journey.

So all he needs to do next is complete the path on the surface again to get around to the back of that strange eyeball.

If his reasoning is correct.

-

But the truth is, there is never a perfect line of reasoning.

"Being fooled."

The doctor silently repeated the sentence to himself, his brows furrowed.

His initial conception of the Möbius strip framework does not seem to hold true.

Because about half a minute after he started from the position of number 1 on the inner wall, he was greeted not by number 2, but by number 7.

Moreover, the number 7 is not even upright; it has been rotated approximately 200 degrees, becoming an upside-down 7.

The situation is now much more complicated.

Because the doctor had absolutely no idea where space had broken apart.

Perhaps as he carved numbers along the way, the spaces between them became misaligned. What he thought was a 6 might actually be a 9.

But no one can explain it clearly.

"Although things haven't been going very smoothly, we can't rely on the sea for everything."

With a sigh, the doctor leaned against the wall and sat down. Somewhat dejectedly, he reached into his pocket and squeezed the last bottle of seawater, feeling a sense of resentment.

Feeling the texture of the glass bottle in his hand, the Doctor was reminded of the bottle of Originium he had left behind.

Wait a minute, wouldn't it be a waste to just leave the Originium there like that?

It's not just a loss, it's practically bankruptcy.

"Damn, it's on fire."

Upon realizing this, the doctor immediately stood up, leaning against the wall like a spring.

"No matter how many cycles there are, there will always be a day when we reach the end. I don't believe we can't go back."

With the pickaxe gripped tightly in his hand, he charged forward once more.

For him, the most important thing at this moment was that bottle of Originium.

Losing two fingers or toes is not a problem, but if you lose the Originium, you will completely lose the initiative in front of Specter.

That's right—he plans to use Originium as leverage to threaten Specter when necessary.

think carefully.

Since this seawater can attract strange creatures and be used like a magic weapon in the hands of the ghost shark, there must be some connection between the two.

Perhaps Ghost Shark is an anomaly, but because her power is far greater than that of other anomalies, she appears in this form.

No, if Ghost Shark is a monster, then what is the self that she keeps resurrecting?

The doctor suddenly began to doubt his own existence.

Could it be that I am actually a weirdo?

No, the more I think about it, the more confused I get.

"It's really awful to have all the crucial information controlled by others," the doctor sighed as he pondered as he moved forward.

The deeper the Doctor ventured into Rhodes Island, the more he touched upon fragments of his past memories and saw scenes he had witnessed in the past, the more he felt he was being controlled by Specter.

It felt as if Ghost Shark, located in room 403, could see exactly where he was, what he was doing, and even what he was thinking.

Perhaps even the fact that I can be resurrected is within Specter's plan, and I am just a toy to her.

"No... that's too negative a thought."

But despite its negative aspects, it is understandable.

After all, his mad self had left a message on the ground, telling him not to trust the nun.

And there are no other nuns on Rhodes Island besides Specter.

The problem now is that the doctor doesn't know who to trust.

On Rhodes Island, it's not easy to distinguish whether something is good or bad.

So ultimately, it all comes down to insufficient intelligence.

Chapter 69, Section Sixty-Eight: Deep-Sea Tales - Part Four: Slow-Release Drugs

A crescent moon rises and hangs over the city wall; the moon rising over the city wall shines on Liangzhou.

Liangzhou, a city of seven miles and ten thousand households, is home to half of its people who are non-Han and know how to play the pipa.

"A Night Gathering with Various Judges at the Liangzhou Inn" by Cen Shen

-

Everything has a beginning; everything has a beginning.

The same applies to the doctor's trip to Iberia.

That was an opportunity.

A small but very important opportunity.

-

Date unknown, Asturias town on the Iberian border.

This poor and desolate town is geographically located within Iberia, but it is actually governed by Lateran.

But after the last natural disaster struck and the town moved south, even Laterano couldn't control it anymore.

No, it's not so much that they can't control it, but rather that they don't want to.

"Sir, you've been sitting in this chair for four hours. Although we don't force customers to order, if you're just waiting for someone, I suggest you go inside and sit down. Otherwise, it will affect our business."

The bartender casually wiped the glass and spoke in a suppressed, impatient tone.

As he spoke, he would occasionally glance at the large box next to the man in the trench coat and hood, and then exhale hot breath from his nostrils.

“I have a few extra plates.” The doctor pointed to the empty plates on the table.

Three hours earlier, there were fifteen peanuts and eight pistachios on the plate.

"...Sir, if you're here to deliberately make fun of me, then I have nothing to say." The bartender sighed. "Normally, I would just kick out any customer who's taking up a seat, but today..."

“Wait a minute.” The doctor shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you don’t offer non-alcoholic beverages, and I don’t drink alcohol.”

"Would you like a few more nut platters?" the bartender asked, wiping another glass.

"Without water to drink, you'll get thirsty." The doctor shook his head again.

"No problem, I'll go to the kitchen and get you a glass of cool boiled water, and then bring you two nut platters, how about that?" The bartender's face lit up again when he heard that the customer was willing to order.

“Yes, because to be honest, I’ve been sitting for four hours and haven’t had a drop of water.” The doctor nodded, looking very anxious.

"Got it."

The bartender put down his glass, slipped through a curtain, and then, after a series of clattering sounds, placed a tray with nuts and a glass of water in front of the doctor.

"Although I don't know who has such a big influence that has kept you waiting for four hours, please take your time." A smile returned to the bartender's face.

"Perhaps there were some mishaps on the way...but it's alright."

The professor picked up his water glass and drank it all in one gulp, then slid the empty glass to the bartender. The young man then put down what he was doing to refill the professor's glass.

"By the way... there's something about what you just said that's been bothering me." Looking at the bartender whose figure flickered in and out of sight in the kitchen, the professor asked, "You said you usually kick customers out, but you didn't today. Why is that?"

"……what?"

“Ah… this.”

Perhaps because he hadn't heard clearly from the kitchen, the bartender only realized what the doctor was saying a second or two later, and then lightly walked out while holding his water glass and lifting the curtain.

"Didn't you know? Some important people are coming to inspect this godforsaken place today, so security is really tight." He piled the water glass in front of the professor, then went back to doing his chores.

"A big shot... what kind of big shot?" The doctor raised an eyebrow slightly, a look of curiosity appearing on his face beneath the hood.

"They were sent from Golden City." The bartender gestured south. "They said they want to take over the jurisdiction of this place from those guys with fluorescent light tubes on their heads. They're currently conducting an on-site investigation of the local environment and the quality of the residents."

“Golden City…Iberia, huh?” The Doctor nodded. “This place is within Iberia’s territory, so it makes sense.”

"Reasonable my foot. You wouldn't believe it, I get a headache just looking at those Iberians." The bartender said, actually rubbing his temples in a mock-serious manner.

This subtle movement pulled aside the bartender's hat, drawing the doctor's attention to the bartender's race.

“Filin’s ears…you’re not a local?” the doctor asked.

“How could that be?” the bartender chuckled. “You can’t tell from my accent that I’m from Iberia or Lateran. This is a genuine Victorian Lentinium accent, no doubt about it.”

"What are the Victorians doing here?" the doctor asked, somewhat curious.

"Sigh, it's all because of this." The bartender sighed, then casually rolled up his sleeve, revealing his grotesque left arm.

“Stone disease, sir.” The bartender shook the layer of Originium crystals that had even begun to pile up on his arm. “If anyone saw that in Victoria, they’d be taken to the Infected prison as test subjects.”

"Tell me, I have an illness. If I go for treatment, I'll die. But if I don't go for treatment, I can live a good life. Isn't this world strange?" The bartender sighed and shook his head, and casually tried to pull his rolled-up sleeves back down.

But the doctor grabbed his left arm and stopped him.

For a moment, the bartender was stunned.

"Sir, what are you doing... what are you doing?" He tried to pull the doctor's hand away, but he was also a little scared. "If you touch this stone, you'll get sick."

“It’s alright, I’m a doctor, a doctor who treats Oripathy.” The doctor looked up at the bartender, a glint of light hidden in his eyes beneath his hood.

"Wait, you said you are..."

“Your Oripathy is already very serious,” the doctor continued, “If you continue to ignore it, you will only have three to four weeks to live at most, maybe even less.”

"Three to four weeks, meaning less than a month, but..."

"but?"

"But there's no cure for Stone Disease. I've heard of things that can alleviate it, but they're ridiculously expensive—I'm just a worker in Lontinim, I simply can't afford them..."

"Because no one cares about the poor infected people, only the powerful and wealthy can get treatment," the doctor said. "The market price of drugs is more than ten times the cost price. There are countless profits involved in every link of the chain, so ordinary people not only can't afford them, but even if they want to, they have no way to buy them."

"Take this, take it."

Before anyone knew it, the doctor had opened the box at his feet and taken out two sealed syringes, which he then placed in the bartender's hand.

"This is...?" The bartender, who had once thought the doctor's box contained gold and silver banknotes, was now speechless.

"It's just a cheap medicine to relieve Oripathy, which I made myself," the doctor said with a smile. "Give me an injection in the affected area tonight before bed, and another one at the same time next week. Also, pay attention to your diet and regular sleep schedule, and that should help you feel better."

"But why are you giving me this... We've only just met, and we don't even have a relationship that's worthy of this..."

"No, that's not the case."

The doctor met the bartender's gaze and shook his head while holding his right hand.

"There are many infected people like you on Terra, and I don't have the chance to help all of them."

"But at least I helped one person today, and that's enough."

-

-

Thank you segment.

Thank you for the monthly pass and the razor blade.

Chapter 70, Section Sixty-Nine: Deep Sea Tales - Travelers from Five Small Towns

"Ding ding, ding ding."