The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 165

At this moment, Fran had taken off her thin pajamas and changed into her usual dress and doctor's coat.

Sigrid gently pushed open the door and entered, then saw Fran sitting in front of the dressing table. She then, as if on cue, went over, picked up the comb, and began to re-braid the braid beside her hair.

How is the research on casting progressing?

Feeling Sigrid's fingers brush through her hair and skillfully tie it up, Fran inquired about her gains from the STC.

"The progress is very fast, it should be said to be unimaginably fast. If the melting and casting of material three goes smoothly, it will probably only take half a month to produce a sufficiently stable finished product."

When Sigrid told Fran about this, her eyes gleamed with barely suppressed excitement.

This kind of challenging casting work greatly arouses her passion.

Meanwhile, the AI ​​loaded with STC is an almost omniscient teacher, able to provide detailed and clear answers in the shortest possible time no matter what difficulties arise during the trial process.

"Is it a problem with materials? I remember we still have some living metal in stock... We've also collected materials like ceramic steel before. Spirit bones can be sculpted using instruments, so we won't run out."

After a moment's thought, Fran decided to help the maid speed up the research process.

“That’s great! Oh… I mean, thank you for your help, Dr. Fran.”

Sigrid couldn't contain her excitement and almost hugged Fran. However, she quickly realized that she seemed to have acted too rashly, and then somewhat embarrassedly let go of his hand.

“If you don’t use the materials, they’ll just collect dust. Sigrid, as the only craftsman in Fog City, they can only realize their greatest value in your hands.”

Fran smiled slightly and then offered a reassuring remark.

“Oh, Dr. Fran. There’s something else I need to tell you…”

As she said this, Sigrid's eyes, which were as black as molten gold, took on a serious look, as if it were quite important.

"Last night, the AI ​​lady in that terminal... asked for my name."

"Oh?"

Generally speaking, artificial intelligence in a deep dormant state does not exhibit human-like characteristics. This piqued Fran's interest in this development.

"What was your answer? And did she say anything else after that?"

“I told her my name. She seemed very happy.”

Sigrid recalled the events of that time, and then continued her story.

"After that, she wanted to tell me her name as a matter of courtesy, but... she seemed to have forgotten her original name."

Fran nodded slightly, unsurprised.

"That's normal. Many artificial intelligences lose information over the years due to the erosion of chaos. But even one whose self-awareness has been almost completely eroded... probably won't retain any useful data."

"After all, it's an old relic from the dark age of technology."

That being said, she remained very interested in this AI that had suddenly shown signs of awakening. This might be related to the integration of the STC module.

“There’s no need to worry about any risks, Sigrid. Generally speaking, she doesn’t harbor any ill will towards ‘humans.’ Besides, you were very polite, which is a significant plus…”

Fran paused briefly before speaking the second half of his sentence.

"Moreover, the storage cabinet she's in is completely isolated from the outside world, so even if she's really gone mad, there's no weapon she can use. But if that's really the case... I'll format her."

Sigrid felt slightly relieved upon hearing this, at least this AI lady wouldn't pose a threat.

In fact, she could sense the other person's dazed and cautious feeling when they were in contact with her.

As for Sigrid herself, she was more inclined to believe that the AI ​​was friendly.

Dr. Fran said that AI generally doesn't harbor ill will towards "humans." But... can he really still call himself human?

Even though Sigrid had already emerged from the shadow of the Final Program after Fran's guidance, a hint of sadness still flickered in her eyes when she thought of this.

"Are you thinking about something that makes you unhappy?"

Fran looked at the half-braided hair at his temples in the mirror and couldn't help but chuckle.

As the best psychologist in Norrington, she never ignored the emotional changes of those around her. Sigrid's emotions, however, were even more difficult to understand.

"No {″si scar≯⊙23 noon thorn,／蝟；＞4% off proxy purchase■∴：Yes…"

Not wanting the doctor to worry about her, Sigrid began to explain somewhat flusteredly.

"You can't avoid seeking medical help because you're sick, Sigrid."

Fran maintained his gentle smile, then raised his slender index finger and placed it between the lips of the person in front of him.

"That's how humans are; from the moment they are born, they never stop doubting their own 'existence'."

As Pascal said, man is a thinking reed. Even though the form changes and the vessel is replaced, your core essence remains the same as it was at the beginning. There is no need to doubt the fact that you are a 'human being'.

“I think, therefore I am.”

Upon hearing this, Sigrid's eyes, as black as molten gold, flickered slightly before she remembered to respond.

"Yes... thank you for your guidance, Dr. Fran."

She nodded slightly, expressing her sincere gratitude to the doctor in front of her.

Dr. Fran always seemed to possess a keen and perceptive sense, able to sense the emotional fluctuations of those around him.

Her words of comfort were equally precise and effective. In just a few words, perhaps without the other person even realizing it, the dust that had risen in their emotions was swept away.

This made Sigrid feel a unique kind of "care," which, though elusive, was undeniably real.

Perhaps that was the doctor's way of expressing goodwill.

At the same time, a few lights flashed briefly on her terminal, as if she were pondering what the doctor had just said.

...A moment later, Sigrid had finished braiding her hair.

Fran glanced at the now neat, pale hair in his glasses, then raised his hand and gently gathered it up.

"If she shows signs of waking up again later, we might as well talk to her more. Since she doesn't have a name... why don't you give her one?"

"Ah."

Sigrid accepted Fran's instructions, and her expression brightened again.

"...if that lady is willing."

Fran slowly rose from her seat at the dressing table, then patted her cheeks to dispel the lingering sleepiness.

……

Above the foggy street, a blurry figure emerged from the wind and snow, gradually appearing in the thin mist outside the street.

Her black nun's robes billowed and fluttered in the passing cold wind, making a rustling sound.

Exhaling a wisp of white mist, Haida pushed open the door and entered the Fog Street Clinic.

The first thing you see is Fran sitting on the sofa, drinking hot cocoa.

Good day, Dr. Fran.

Upon seeing Haida arrive, she stood up, picked up another porcelain cup still steaming with heat, and handed it to the nun who was still in the entryway.

"Welcome, dear Sister Heda."

"Thank you for coming to the clinic in this weather. Although it's not as cold as last month, the snow still shows no sign of stopping... How about a cup of freshly brewed hot cocoa?"

"Sigrid controlled the heat very well this time; she didn't melt the cup."

"……Thanks."

Haida was already used to the doctor's routine hospitality.

She did not refuse, but simply raised her hand and steadily took the porcelain teacup, blew away the mist, and took a sip.

"So, when do we leave?"

Fran skipped the unnecessary pleasantries and went straight to Haida asking about their upcoming itinerary. When communicating with the Hunters of Secrets, efficiency is often just as important as the content.

The nun had come for this reason. She put down her porcelain cup and then began to explain the arrangements.

“Whenever you like, Dr. Fran. My quarterly assignment to Gormouth has been issued, and if you have nothing else to attend to… you can leave now.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

　Leek, ☆er★four∈—糤ˉ■糤〇∮·soUSuO: ————

(I have a day off today and am trying to work through the night to finish the next chapter.)

Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Six-Eyed Raven

The Abyss, Leviathan.

This is a large steamship painted in dark gray, powered by a secret furnace core produced by the White Cup Order.

Although it hasn't been in service for very long, many dents can be seen on the metal hull. Most of them look like bullet holes, while a small portion... looks like sharp marks from teeth or hooks.

Of course, most of the obvious marks have been repaired or the entire piece has been replaced.

At this moment, Fran is standing on the corridor outside his cabin on the ship, feeling the sea breeze.

Heda stood quietly beside her, her grey-chestnut eyes gazing at the boundless, deep black waves. She was like an obsidian statue.

Although it was still snowing in Norrington, the temperature gradually began to rise once we entered the sea, and even the wind blowing on our faces no longer carried a biting chill.

"Gentlemen, are you settling in well on the ship?"

As a deep male voice rang out, Professor Utus gradually walked towards the two of them.

Oh, although he was a genuine professor of oceanography, this guy lacked the refined demeanor of the other White Cup Examiners. Rather, probably no one on the ship was more like a sailor than him.

Of course, the word "like" is inaccurate, because Utus was indeed a sailor... and the first mate of the ship.

"It's alright, I'm not having any trouble adjusting. Besides, the facilities here are very complete, not much different from those on land."

Haida turned to look at Utus and gave a reply.

As a funeral maid, she possessed extraordinary patience for harsh environments. And the ship's conditions were far from bad, not at all requiring any special adaptation.

The Illevier was generally used by the White Cup Order to escort important personnel or for scheduled cruises, and therefore was equipped with many daily living facilities, making it almost equivalent to a small cruise ship.

This allows ordinary people, even those without long-distance sailing experience, to quickly adapt to life at sea.

"Hey..."

Upon hearing Haida's description that it was "not much different from the ground," Utus couldn't help but grin.

"Our religious order is very knowledgeable in this area. If this were a ship from thirty years ago, everyone would have to eat rotten potatoes together. And the whole journey would have been almost twice as long."

"As for now... those academics have even opened viewing windows on the ship to watch dolphins."

In fact, he knew that worrying about the two people feeling uncomfortable was really unnecessary.

First, there's Dr. Fran, who's suspected to be the current Medical Secretary. Worrying about such a being getting seasick is less worrying than worrying about the siren drowning while singing. As for Sister Heda… that's a different story altogether.

A hundred years ago, some regions had a superstition that "women were not allowed on ships." But if it was a funeral maid... no one would care about the former taboo.

Liu, putting aside the difference between men and women, these hunters are so ferocious they seem inhuman. Bringing one onto the ship would indeed greatly improve its safety. Even pirates would give them a wide berth.

"Then I won't disturb you two any longer. I'll go back to work now. Dinner will be delivered directly to your room. If you need anything else, just call the waiter."

After exchanging polite greetings, Utus returned to his cabin.

In fact, the Hunters Order does not necessarily have to use the White Cup Order's ships; they also control many shipping companies that originally belonged to the Meredith family.

However, the General Affairs Committee believed that the Leviathan was safer. After all, a professor from the Oceanography Department was in charge of safety.

The ship's captain... was a white-collar honorary professor: Niflü Gmilton.

Although he never taught at Norrington Central College, in terms of his understanding of the Abyss, probably no one in the world could compare to him... He could be called a living legend of the Abyss.

Fran rested his chin on his hand, looking almost bored.

A completely unchanging, monotonous landscape can easily become tiresome after a while. Thinking of this, she began to talk to Haida beside her.

"Hmm...Speaking of which, I happened to run into a navigator when I was making house calls yesterday."

Is he your patient?

Heda clearly knew that Fran would make house calls on the last day of each quarter, so she was curious about her specific experiences.

"No. And he was already dead when I saw him the second time."

When Fran recalled the guy whose knee he had shattered twice, the first emotion that came to mind was guilt... probably because shattering the same knee twice was just too cruel.

"Who needs treatment?" With nothing else to do, Haida inquired about the details of the house call.

"A wealthy earl. Hmm... but he's dead too."