Rhodes Island does not exist.

"Why are you so sure?" Even the doctor was starting to find it unbelievable.

“Because the Inquisition judges heretics, blasphemers, and enemies of the Lord, there is no reason for a devout believer like myself to be judged,” the young monk replied.

"For example, the person who is about to be tried at noon today, she was arrested and brought to trial because she blasphemed God and broke a law, right?"

"Yes, that's true." The doctor had to admit.

“The sinners are judged, while the innocent are judged bystanders,” the young monk said. “It is gratifying to witness the punishment of established sins, and it is understandable that I, as a believer, find it interesting. Rather, I think it is one of the joys bestowed by the Lord.”

This time, the PhD student was stunned and speechless.

Although he did have some knowledge of Lateranism's laws and doctrines, he was still no match for those within the clergy in a debate.

What's more, this time he encountered this kind of person.

"And besides," the young monk continued, "as the victim in this trial, you should be happy to see the guilty party being tried, shouldn't you? After all, the trial is protecting your interests."

"Should I... be happy?" The doctor looked at the young monk's youthful features and asked subconsciously.

"Shouldn't we?" the monk tilted his head and looked at him, asking rhetorically, "As the victim, are you going to defend the perpetrator?"

"No, that's not how it is..."

The doctor really wanted to argue that the matter was not simply a matter of victims and perpetrators.

But does explaining it guarantee that the other person will understand?

Looking at the monk before him, the Doctor realized that he and the monk were destined to never understand each other.

So what about this church?

If this young monk's thinking is considered normal within the Church, then what about Iberia?

-

Thank you segment.

Thank you to "Lazy Procrastinator" for the razor blade and monthly pass, thank you.

Chapter 82, Part 81: Deep Sea Tales - The Mysteries of Seventeen Races

Amen!

The concluding prayer before the meal, just like the one last night, was repeated before the doctor once again.

The dining room was filled with the sound waves.

The priest sitting across from the doctor today is not the silver-haired priest from yesterday, but another stern-faced priest.

Although, in the doctor's eyes, the people here are all rather serious and unsmiling.

In addition, the doctor noticed something else during the meal.

The bald priest from yesterday—or rather, the priest with congenital intellectual disability—did not appear in the dining hall.

For some reason, the professor didn't want to ask.

After all, he wasn't familiar with the person in front of him at all.

If it were that silver-haired middle-aged priest from yesterday, perhaps I could have asked him a couple of questions based on the temporary acquaintance I'd made last night. But this guy in front of me, forget it.

The meal proceeded in silence and continued until the end.

Just as the doctor was about to get up to take the plates to the recycling bin, the bishop walked towards him.

"The public trial you are participating in today will be held at 12:40 noon, so our lunch will begin at around 11:30. After lunch, we will proceed directly to the courtroom."

The bishop came to explain the specific arrangements for tomorrow to the doctor.

"You can make the arrangements. As a guest, I usually have no objections." The doctor nodded, his expression calm.

“That’s settled then.” The bishop smiled in response. “Around eleven o’clock we will explain some important points about the public trial, and then we will have dinner. You are free to spend the time you have before that. You can go sightseeing in Iberia or go back to your room to rest, as you please. You are also very welcome to observe our services.”

"Ah, thank you." The Doctor accepted the Bishop's offer. "Then I'll just wander around the city. I also have some professional interests that I'd like to explore more about the city—by the way, are there any places in the city that are off-limits?"

“Generally speaking, areas that are off-limits will have signs and guards, so you can’t get in even if you wanted to,” the bishop said. “You can visit with peace of mind.”

"Then I feel a little more at ease," the doctor replied with a smile.

So the two parted ways in the dining hall.

-

At eight o'clock in the morning, there were hardly any people in front of the church square in the afterglow.

Even the Iberian Papal Knights we saw yesterday were nowhere to be seen, as if this wasn't their shift time.

"Then let's first find out about the city's medical standards and drug supply." The doctor took out a notebook from his pocket and flipped through its contents, muttering to himself, "I wonder if the Oripathy issue is considered a sensitive matter in Iberia. If it is, it's best not to ask about it casually."

But how can we know whether something is sensitive or not if we don't ask?

Children's words have no restraints, children's words have no restraints.

When it comes to socially sensitive questions, it's definitely more appropriate to ask children.

They are often bold enough to speak the truth and are not afraid of the rules and prohibitions of the adult world. If you want to understand the local customs, culture and taboos, asking children is undoubtedly the most effective way.

"But I have a feeling it's going to rain today."

Looking up at the slightly gloomy sky, the doctor sensed the approaching misty vapor through the dark blue clouds.

"It was perfectly sunny yesterday, but it looks like the sky started to darken as soon as I arrived." The doctor shook his head, chuckling to himself, as he slowly lowered his gaze.

He looked towards the front of the church square.

Two angel statues stand on either side of the front of the church square.

The angel on the left has six wings on its back, a face as angry as thunder, a spiked halo above its head, holds a heavy machine gun, and a belt of Originium bullets hangs from its left forearm all the way to its right shoulder. It is covered in blood.

The angel on the right has four wings on his back, and his entire face is covered by a hood. The only thing that is conspicuous is the two light repeating guns in his hands. He looks like a peerless dual-wielding master.

"To be able to control two guns at the same time... this angel is truly amazing."

Having learned about the principles of how the Sarkaz used firearms, he knew exactly where the Sarkaz's racial talents lay, and he also knew exactly who was truly the best in this racial group.

Because firearms are a high-level application of refined Originium Arts, it is no exaggeration to say that a Sakura who can simultaneously wield two firearms is essentially a person with two brains... or rather, two halos.

That's what the doctor thinks.

And the Sakortas he knew generally agreed with his idea.

After all, not all Sarkaz can use guns. Some angels will not be able to use this cool and stylish but slightly troublesome weapon because they cannot pass the gun license test.

"Every race has its own troubles."

Gazing at the angel statue before him, the doctor couldn't help but sigh.

Speaking of which, what was the original race of the Iberians again?

Then, this question suddenly popped into the doctor's mind.

"If nothing unexpected happens, it should be Li Boli."

The doctor pondered, recalling the feather he had picked up yesterday evening that had fallen from the bishop's body.

But even though that's what they say, I didn't see any particularly distinctive Liboli on the street yesterday, not even a few fallen feathers.

"The people of Iberia don't seem to have very distinct racial characteristics," the doctor said, frowning as he recalled his journey from the city gate yesterday.

Looking back now, it seems that this is indeed the case.

Not to mention the obviously distinct Felin and Luper, even some races with less distinctive appearances were nowhere to be found in Iberia.

wrong.

The doctor suddenly remembered something.

Iberia is a coastal city, and no matter how natural disasters ravage it or how the city-state itself relocates, it never leaves the sea.

In other words, the native race here should be more like the Agor than the Liberi.

The Agor race happens to be one of those races whose racial characteristics are not particularly obvious.

If racial characteristics are not obvious, it is difficult to accurately determine a person's specific race based on their appearance.

After all, no one would suddenly lift up a woman's skirt on the street to see if she has tentacles underneath. That's neither logical nor criminal.

If someone actually did that, they would certainly receive more than just the answer to the question; they would also get jail food from the police station.

"We can only observe further." The doctor turned his gaze to the road leading to the residential area outside the square and took a slow breath.

-

Thank you segment.

Thank you to Nan Yuan Hui Ma Mei for the monthly ticket and the knife (a symbol of gratitude) when the stars fell.

Two updates today.

Chapter 83, Part 82: Deep Sea Tales - Eighteen White Travelers

On a cloudy day, you cannot tell the time by the sun.

But this era is no longer one where one can only rely on celestial phenomena for work and rest. Compared to calculating by looking up at the sky, clocks are clearly more convenient.

"nine thirty."

The professor sighed as he stood in front of the gate of an open-air mansion.

In the past hour, he has gained nothing.

After all, the bishop had told him that.

"The reason why the residents here are not xenophobic is simply because you have the guidance of the priests."

He should have thought of it earlier.

Without the guidance of the priests, he, as an outsider, would certainly not have been welcomed by the locals.

"But who knew even the kids would avoid me?"

The Doctor shook his head.

But that's probably how it should be.

Even adults would avoid such a person, so how could they possibly allow their own children to come into contact with them?

“I was rejected like this when I went to Letania before.” The Doctor wandered aimlessly, recalling some past events. “What was I doing there… I think I was going to attend the Witch King’s Assembly? Oh, I forgot.”

Beautiful memories are not easily preserved, but painful scenes always remain vivid in one's mind.

The doctor was well aware of this.

"But after walking around, I thought the city of Iberia would be even more backward," the Doctor muttered to himself.

The folk tales I once saw at the street stalls in Longmen resurfaced.

“Witch hunts…the inquisition…and the stakes.” He sketched out a series of cruel scenes in his mind. “It looks like it’s either fiction or it’s from the past. I was hoping to see charred crosses in the square.”

It's clear that the story had a profound impact on the Doctor, to the point that it directly changed his impression of Iberia.

This is understandable, given that propaganda and public opinion are of utmost importance in today's world.

If propaganda and public opinion are done well, and a voice is gained in literary and artistic works, then even if you are the initiator of a genocidal massacre, you can be portrayed as a bitter and resentful anti-hero.

This is artistic embellishment.

In this light, perhaps Iberia's poor reputation is also due to these strange customs and stories that are spread from one person to ten, and from ten to a hundred.

After experiencing the culture of Iberia firsthand, the doctor felt that it wasn't actually that bad.

At most, it's just some religious fanaticism and excessive xenophobia.

"However, it may be precisely because the xenophobia was so strong that those people created a lot of stories to smear Iberia after they left Iberia."

The professor muttered to himself as he strolled along, smelling the salty sea breeze.

"The Tribunal, Levini, the Iberian Papacy... Although nothing has happened since I arrived yesterday, everything feels too peaceful, so peaceful that it's unsettling."

A dangerous intuition raced through the doctor's mind.

"After attending Levini's trial and confirming that she can receive a normal life as a dependent, we should go back—oh no." The Doctor slapped his forehead, almost forgetting the main purpose of his trip to the southern border. "I still have to wait for someone... The priests in Asturias said they would help me bring her to Iberia, but that's the only thing we can do today."

He organized his to-do list.

If things go according to plan, he can meet the person he arranged to meet today, and leave Iberia directly after handling everything, without any lingering.

Although I still care a little about the woman carrying the greatsword who brushed past me when I passed the Gate of Saints yesterday, it was just a fleeting encounter after all, and I let it go.