The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 116

"Leaving aside the many obscure parts of the original text, the specific meaning is actually quite simple. The only deity who has shed all worldly blood, while still human, depicted the stairway to the mysterious origin. It consists of seven leaps, hence it is also known as the 'Seven-Step Theory'."

Elsa listened attentively, and as she gradually understood what Fran was saying, her eyes began to show undisguised surprise.

"Ms. Flamel, is the 'Seventh Ladder' theory about 'ascension' in a mystical sense?"

"Yes."

Fran nodded, confirming her idea.

5. "However, this system originated from the Lost Age, and much of its content is no longer applicable. For example, I believe that only individuals at the fifth tier or above can become heirs through sacrifice, but in recent years, some priests at the fourth tier have also become heirs."

"It's just that on average it's much weaker, and it doesn't contain any divinity."

As Teru listened to Fran's description, Elsa fell into deep thought before speaking again after a long while.

Why are you telling me all this?

"Whim."

Fran had anticipated this question, so he answered it with ease.

"For ordinary people, ignorance is the greatest protection. But for the White Cup disciples who want to understand this world... knowing more may allow you to live longer, or at least not die without knowing why."

As he spoke, Fran raised his hand and parted the fog, revealing a wooden door.

Behind this door is the Mandala Tavern.

Since Elsa is not yet fully recovered, she set up the exit of the Fog Within the Door inside the tavern. Entering directly through the main door would be too conspicuous, so this time she entered the storeroom through the back door first.

However, this time... something unexpected happened.

A bartender was retrieving ingredients from the storeroom when he suddenly felt a chilly, damp mist wash over him, causing him to sneeze.

"What's wrong? It feels drafty. Is the door not closed properly?"

When he looked in the direction of the chill, he found that the back door had been filled with grayish-white fog.

"What is this...?"

The bartender's voice trembled inexplicably, tinged with disbelief. He staggered back, then turned and ran, about to leave the storeroom.

The next moment, countless black tentacles wrapped around him from behind like a spider web, sealing his mouth and nose before pulling him back.

"You ran decisively, which is a good habit."

Fran slowly approached him and offered a comforting compliment.

"Woo!"

As the gray-robed woman drew closer and black tentacles emerged from her sleeves, the bartender was filled with terror and nearly fainted.

He knew that taverns were frequented by all sorts of people and that secret gatherings might take place there, so he always kept to himself and never inquired about anything outside of his duties.

I never imagined that something like this would happen despite being so careful...

Fran approached the young bartender, holding the chain of his brass pocket watch, and gently dangled it in front of him.

"You are the bartender at the Mandala Tavern. You came to the storeroom just to get some wine. Today is just an ordinary day, nothing unusual has happened."

"so……"

At this point, she released the bartender, allowing him to continue along this established logic.

"So, I didn't see anyone in the warehouse... I took the materials and went back to my post..."

The bartender's pupils were unfocused and dazed, and his words sounded like a dream.

"Yes, go back to work."

Fran patted the bartender on the back, and he immediately snapped out of his daze, looking around in confusion.

Although he made a "look" gesture, he ignored Fran and Elsa in front of him, scratched his head, and went straight back to his post with the original liquor that was to be mixed.

Elsa, standing to the side, pursed her lips somewhat nervously, carefully suppressing her surprise.

Thought, memory, dreams—these are clearly the domains that the refutants of the White Cup are most adept at. But how could Flamel, as the mirror-shiner of the Lamp Church, so easily interfere with thought?

"Hypnosis is just a trivial trick."

Fran gave a simple and somewhat perfunctory explanation, then led her out of the warehouse.

Around ten o'clock is the busiest time at the Mandala Tavern, with dim lighting and noisy chatter. Under such circumstances, two people walking out of the storeroom would not attract any attention, even if they were two women.

However, out of a desire to avoid trouble, Fran held onto the brass pocket watch to minimize his and Elsa's presence and prevent any unforeseen complications.

With a creaking sound of wood, the two walked through the corridor and up the stairs to the third floor of the tavern.

Fran glanced at the room number, didn't think much, and headed straight for number 8.

“Ms. Flamel, do you know in which room this gathering will be held?”

Seeing her reach out to push the door open, Elsa couldn't help but ask out of curiosity.

"Of course, it's just a simple numbers game."

Fran stopped what he was doing and began to explain.

"That vampire entered the sewers around mid-September, and you disappeared after the gathering in early October. Your room number that time was 2. Following the cycle of the numbers '142857', your room number in mid-January should be 8."

"You should know this too, right?"

Elsa nodded slightly, having no objection.

She had indeed calculated the next meeting number at home these past few days, but when she arrived, her mind was full of information related to the Seventh Ladder Theory, and she hadn't thought of this for a moment.

Besides that, Elsa was very concerned about the other things Fran had just said.

Ms. Flamel seemed to know a great deal about the monster, even the exact time he entered the sewers... and that he was a "vampire"?

"Do you...do you know that monster in the red leather robe?"

Of course, I even performed the autopsy on that guy myself… Although Fran wanted to tell the person in front of her that, she didn’t. That would make her identity easy to verify.

"It's a pity that he was already dead when I saw him."

Fran spoke casually, not delving deeper into the topic, and instead raised his hand and pushed open the door to Box 8 without any hindrance.

The reason she chatted with Elsa for a few words by the door was actually to unlock it.

For the Crown Thief, opening this lock, which contains only a faint spiritual power, is a piece of cake. Even if it were replaced with a bolt, it wouldn't make a difference... because she can simply steal the wooden bolt from the inside of the door.

°五？ ％陆liu｜[糤柶』∪泤珥 Update Group: "Who?"

The five people who were chatting before the meeting in the private room looked at the newcomer warily.

The gatekeeper, Guns, was puzzled. He clearly hadn't felt a key being inserted into the lock... How could the door have opened by itself so quietly? Could it be that the Hunters had come knocking?

Schmidt looked closely and spotted a familiar figure among the two newcomers, causing him to frown.

Elsa.

Wasn't she suffering from a mental illness and unable to leave her home? How did she end up here?

Elsa felt a little embarrassed by being stared at by so many eyes at the same time, and she couldn't help but turn to look at Fran beside her.

Ms. Flamel is a friend of Mr. Nichols; a simple explanation should resolve the issue...

Under the watchful eyes of the group, Fran simply lifted the hem of her grey gauze skirt and performed a polite, albeit casual, gesture. To conceal the stitches on her hands, she carefully wore silk gloves.

"Greetings, everyone. May the lamps burn brightly and the moths linger."

“I am the mirror-wiping member of the Misty Society, and I have come to this meeting on the recommendation of Miss Elsa. You may call me ‘The Hermit’.”

Guns's eyes darkened upon hearing this.

Her robes were embroidered with both lamps and moths—was she a member of the Unifying Faction of the Misty Society? No wonder she was able to open that lock. Lamps excel at solving puzzles and spying, while moths excel at escaping and deception; a Unifying Faction possessing both could naturally break through the lock's restrictions with ease.

He curled his lip slightly in an unfriendly manner, making no attempt to hide his hostility.

“If I remember correctly, that child doesn’t deserve it…”

Before Guns could finish speaking, Nicholas, who was seated at the head of the table, nodded, seemingly acknowledging the unexpected arrival of the two.

"Welcome, Hermit Lady."

"Perhaps you already know my name from Elsa, though there's nothing shameful about it. But here, I hope you'll call me 'astrologer,' or simply the organizer."

His expression was quite indifferent, seemingly unaffected by this sudden situation.

“Okay, Mr. Organizer.”

Adhering to the principle of never standing if one can sit, Fran naturally went to sit down at the council round table. She also made sure to pull up another wooden chair for Elsa to sit next to her.

Once the two were seated, Nicholas's voice rang out.

"I need to clarify a few points for new members in advance."

"First, the Star Chart Study originated in Golmouth. The order is called the Star Abyss Society, and it worships the Abyss Well that swallows nebulae. The meetings are entirely anonymous, so please choose your own code names. Also, unless permission is granted, attendees are not allowed to disseminate or leak information from the meetings."

"Secondly, although our gathering does not comply with the city hall's regulations, it does not violate the hunters' commandments. If the hunters discover it, we will only have to pay a fine, of which I will cover 60% and the participants will share the remaining 40%."

"Third, transactions involving ancient artifacts should be conducted privately. The gathering is solely for academic and informational exchange."

Fran rubbed his fingertips through his velvety gray silk gloves, looking somewhat absent-minded.

"I see."

However, she still agreed.

Nicholas didn't pay any attention to Fran's nonchalant attitude.

Both the lamp and the moth are known for their eccentricities, not to mention the unifying faction that simultaneously integrates two contradictory genders into one. In his view, the fact that the hermit lady can communicate is normal enough.

"Please have some tea, it's 'winter buds' from my hometown of Golmouth."

Before Nicholas could finish speaking, Schmidt beside him had already prepared two cups of tea and placed them on the round table in front of Fran and Elsa.

The teaching assistant with the white cup didn't seem to care about pouring tea for the students; he even gave Elsa a warm smile.

Forward "Thank you".

Qunfran glanced at the light liquid in the porcelain cup, lifted her veil slightly, covered her lips, and drank half of the cup.

Although the Fog Street Clinic still has plenty of stock, and the quality is even better... why not try it? The winter buds have a very distinctive Goremouth flavor, crisp and with a long finish, which is why Torres would serve it to their distinguished guests.

When Nicholas saw that the person wiping the mirror had indeed drunk the tea, a subtle glint flashed in his eyes.

“Alright. As is customary at the Star Chart Study Group, each person will first share a piece of recent information. The Hermit is a new participant, so please begin.”

4. "Okay."

Fran smiled and nodded, offering no objection.

4. "Hmm... I've recently discovered something very strange. Where should I begin?"

"There was a secret gathering that required complete anonymity, yet a natural history student was allowed to participate under her real name, and even told the organizer's name. Why? Was it because she had no further chance of leaking information?"

"Coincidentally, there were rumors of cannibalistic monsters lurking in the alley next to the gathering. But the people at the gathering didn't seem to care about that."

"And even more coincidentally, that monster kidnapped her late at night after a gathering ended. He placed her in a swaddling cloth of flesh and blood, waiting to be served at the feast of the gods..."

"Ladies and gentlemen, is the arrangement of fate too deliberately tight? Or is it a script written by humans, a 'feeding'?"

The atmosphere, which was already tense because of her arrival, now took on a slightly tense tone.

Before she could finish speaking, something unexpected happened!

"boom!"

Nicholas slammed his fist down on the round table, and with the loud thud of his fist came a burst of crimson flash from the muzzle of his gun. Fran, who had been leaning forward, suddenly fell backward, seemingly struck in the forehead.

"Ms. Flamel!"

Upon hearing the sudden thud of the bullet leaving the barrel, Elsa was startled and immediately went to Fran to check on her injuries.

She felt her mind instantly become a jumbled mess, all her thoughts tangled together, turning into an intractable confusion.

Why would the organizer attack Ms. Flamel? And were her recent remarks implying problems with the star chart workshop? But her recommender, Mr. Schmidt, was a disenfranchiser of the White Cup; how could he betray such a great pioneer…?

No, now is not the time to think about that. How is Ms. Flamel's injury?

Just then, Fran's voice rang out again, like a ghost from the abyss, lingering and persistent.

“Elsa, that’s why I say we shouldn’t blindly believe in the ‘seventh step’ theory.”

"Many esoteric Buddhist disciples painstakingly climb the second or even third step to become 'alders.' But even a single bullet that penetrates their brain can take their extraordinary lives."

Something unfolded from beneath the gauze robe behind her, precisely stopping the steel-core bullet.