The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 183

“Detrika, don’t you need to disguise yourself to join your gathering? And isn’t it inappropriate for you to bring strangers to the meeting?”

Fran had a strange enthusiasm for infiltrating other religious groups, so he was quite meticulous when asking about precautions.

“Hmm…our gatherings are all anonymous, and they provide masks and hooded robes to conceal identities. If Miss Vivian has similar clothing, she can wear hers.”

Detrick explained in as much detail as possible.

"As for the 'stranger' part... to be honest, nobody cares about that."

As she said this, she glanced up at Fran discreetly. Meeting his amber gaze, she looked away nervously.

"My comrades will probably only care if you can afford to buy the money they get for their 'work'. Of course, it doesn't necessarily have to be physical goods; it could be intelligence or something like that..."

"So this is the pattern of the Six-Eyed Ravens' gatherings."

Fran touched his lower lip, his eyes revealing understanding.

From a professional standpoint, the raiders of the Six-Eyed Raven do indeed need a place to quickly sell what they acquire in exchange for money or other things. This can also be simply summarized as "sell stolen goods."

This differs from most secret cults, whose gatherings either involve internal deliberations like those of the Hunters or, like those of the Crimson Cup, are directly addressed by the highest-ranking priest.

"If I were to prepare my own disguise... it seems I don't have any suitable clothes on hand right now. I only have one that I can barely make do with."

Fran recalled the few pieces of clothing he kept in his medicine box and then wondered whether he should change into them.

A funeral maid's standard robe, a Star Abyss Academy academic gown, and a moth-shaped gauze robe obtained from Dorothy in the future.

The first two outfits are out of the question; for a Hunter to join such a gathering is like a hound entering a mousetrap. And the Star Abyss Society, with its near-law-like status in Foy, would similarly arouse the vigilance of those present.

"It seems the little gift I casually took from Dorothy was indeed a bargain; it seems useful anytime. Those guys at Lantern and Moth, even when framed, mostly don't bother to come forward and clarify..."

She quickly made up her mind and took out a gauze robe from her medicine box and draped it over her doctor's coat.

"Ms. Vivian, this is..." (The rest of the text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated gibberish.)

Looking at Fran, who had changed into mottled silk gauze, Detricka asked with some curiosity.

"A little bit of disguise."

As he spoke, Fran covered his face with a veil, simply concealing his mouth and nose.

Dorothy's robe came from Ahanta, the capital of Attila. The fabric was expensive, and the veil was adorned with chains made of gold thread.

"Is this the attire of the Moth Cult?"

When Derica saw Fran, whose demeanor was completely different after changing his clothes, she was somewhat surprised.

"Yes, genuine Ahanta silk. It comes from the priest of the 'Mirror of Enlightenment Club' in Norlington."

Fran nodded slightly, and even his tone inexplicably carried the ethereal and intriguing quality of a fortune teller.

"This is indeed a brilliant disguise..."

Watching Fran instantly switch into character and feign her pose, Detrica couldn't help but admire her professionalism.

The disciples of the Lamp and the Moth are often loners and mostly indifferent to anything other than self-promotion. This makes them very suitable as a disguise… in any case, the Obscure Society won't interfere.

Although the alleyways were dark and winding, with Detricka leading the way, the two encountered little difficulty in their journey. Soon they arrived at the outside of an old courtyard.

The courtyard wasn't large, but it was certainly spacious enough. Apart from a decaying old oak tree, there were no other striking features.

Fran stood before the door, waiting for Detrick to come forward and announce his arrival.

This place possesses certain characteristics of a secret realm, capable of concealing one's presence and evading detection. However, it seems unstable and could dissipate at any moment. This influence likely does not originate from the ritual array, but rather from some relic.

This also explains Detrika's earlier statement that "the meeting place is not fixed." After all, apart from madmen who have the ritual array engraved on their bodies, no one can frequently change the location of the ritual.

Speaking of which, what would the secret language of the Six-Eyed Raven's cult be? Is the meter different from that of the Sun-Casting or the Red Cup?

Thinking of this, Fran slowly took two steps forward, wanting to hear the "whispers" between Detricka and the guards inside the five gates.

The thief knocked lightly on the door as if to let the family know, then cleared her throat.

"Gah—gah, gah—"

The cawing of a crow came from her throat, with a strange rhythm.

At first glance, it doesn't sound much different from the cawing of the crow Munin, but there is a unique pause between the vibrating sound and the resonance.

Upon hearing Detricka's whisper, the old gate of the courtyard opened. A somewhat sinister-looking old man chuckled softly, his cloudy eyes scanning the visitor up and down.

"Hey, you only arrived close to moonrise, I thought you'd been arrested."

"You're cursing me again, Zarik. Can't you say something nice?"

Detrick waved and responded quite familiarly.

Instead of letting her in as usual, Zarik pressed her for more information.

“This isn’t a curse…it’s just a guess. You just came back from Norrington by boat with a buyer. How am I supposed to know if she’s a big spender or just someone trying to get close to you?”

"Norlington is notorious for its paranoia; how can you prove you haven't posed a danger to the Order?"

Upon hearing this, Detricka narrowed her eyes slightly, and a hint of impatience appeared on her face.

"Do you really think I'd have the time to come here after being caught by hunters? Stop talking nonsense."

Often, the more you explain yourself when faced with criticism, the more insecure you seem. Therefore, try to maintain a calm demeanor and project an almost confident air of frustration.

Seeing that she seemed unaffected, Zarik didn't dwell on the matter further. Instead, he asked another question.

“That’s true. As long as we don’t cause trouble in Norrington, the hunters aren’t really that interested in us… But does the buyer behind you really have enough funds?”

Detrick curled her lip in disdain upon hearing this, then took out a gleaming gold coin from a hidden pocket in her collar and waved it around in a showy manner.

"This is the payment she gave me for guiding me. Do you think she's qualified?"

"Oh……"

When Qi saw the alluring golden luster, Zarik's cloudy eyes lit up instantly.

"The Meredith family's wolf-head coins ceased circulation fifty years ago. The delicate texture and the anti-counterfeiting engravings embedded in the coin...it's so beautiful. May I touch it?"

"No."

Idriska rejected his request quite decisively.

4. Although this old miser probably just wanted to observe carefully, he wouldn't resort to such a low-level trick as switching the items in front of him.

But after experiencing Ms. Vivian's incredible thieving skills... she is now unwilling to take any risks.

Liu: "Tch, so stingy..."

Zarik withdrew his calloused hand somewhat sullenly, then looked at Fran with a slightly obsequious expression.

"Madam, you are a qualified sponsor. We wish you a pleasant conference."

"Welcome to the 'Third Habitat'."

Fran didn't speak, but simply glanced at him indifferently, which was his response.

Zarik was not offended by the other party's cold attitude; on the contrary, the fact that she was willing to respond was already a sign of goodwill.

It's perfectly normal for someone who would use a wolf-head gold coin as a tip to be so arrogant.

"Since you've already covered your face with a veil, I won't try to sell you those inferior masks anymore... However, if you'd like, you can register a code name."

"If you wish to attend the 'Third Habitat' gathering again in the future, you will receive even more appropriate hospitality."

Zarik led the way with great enthusiasm, occasionally glancing discreetly at Fran's attire.

How many years has it been since I last saw the beautiful colors of the Yahanta silk? And the ancient patterns of the lamp and the moth... Is she the priestess of the Misty Society? But ordinary disciples of the Lamp Cult cannot use this kind of material.

They either held the rank of high priest or came from a distinguished family.

"A code name..."

Fran murmured, pondering the question. Her voice no longer held the reassuring laughter of the past; it was now flat and cold, like a still, deep well.

"Let's call him 'The Hermit'."

Ultimately, she decided to stick with the title she had used in the Star Chart Research Society. After all, it was just a disguise, and there was no need to make up a new name.

"As you wish, Lady Hermit."

Zarik respectfully agreed and then wrote the name down in the booklet in his hand.

"After this gathering, someone will provide you with the order's token. You can then use it to enter the gathering."

"Ah."

Fran ended the conversation succinctly.

As they ventured deeper into the corridor, the three arrived inside the old courtyard.

There were many marble chairs, spaced far apart and separated by screens to prevent peeping. Some of them were already occupied. A priest wearing a raven-feather mask stood in the very center.

Upon arriving at the venue, Detrick saw Zarik still standing to the side, her brows furrowed, and she urged him impatiently.

"Zarik, how long are you going to follow me? Are you no longer guarding the gate? I've never seen you so kind as to bring someone here before."

"Hey, my apologies..."

Zarik didn't show anger or resentment upon hearing this, seemingly unwilling to leave a bad impression on his new investor. He simply turned away slowly, preparing to leave.

After turning his body around, he couldn't help but purse his lips and click his tongue.

How come Detrick is so lucky to have climbed such a high branch... Such a generous buyer, the referrer can make a fortune just from the referral fee.

After Fran sat down, Detrika quietly leaned close to her ear and whispered her discovery.

“Ms. Vivian, today’s host is different from usual. Judging from his attire, he is a high priest. It’s probably because today is the ‘Plum Moon Festival’ and the order has arranged for a higher-ranking disciple to lead the gathering.”

She couldn't help but feel a little worried. While Ms. Vivian's methods of stealing were indeed very sophisticated, could she still operate with the same ease under the watchful eye of a high priest-level plunderer?

If discovered, there's a possibility of violent conflict. Then, caught in the middle, one would face a difficult choice of stance.

Fran seemed unconcerned; in fact, the appearance of the raven high priest even excited her somewhat. Being able to interact with a disciple of this rank right from the start would save her a lot of unnecessary trouble…

"It's alright. Perhaps this will even make the quality of the products sold in the East and West even better." > @si·〃】≥⊙）

Her tone made it sound as if she were truly a buyer searching for treasure.

As time passed, more people took their seats. The full moon, its light clear and bright, lost its haze and revealed its full form.

The moon has risen.

The host spoke slowly; it was the voice of a middle-aged man, rough and somewhat melancholic.

"At moonrise and dawn, whenever the celestial bodies are revealed, the shadow beneath your wings leaves a dark scar on the earth. Please feast on this meager offering; your pecking and sipping will open the ignorance from our minds."

A white plaster altar stood before the officiant, upon which were placed some brightly colored objects.

Although Fran, who remained seated, couldn't see what was on the altar, he could sense the spiritual energy emanating from it. It was probably some kind of spiritual material.

As the ritual array began to operate, the offerings on the altar vanished into nothingness under the shroud of winged shadows, along with all the dissipated spiritual energy.

A moment later, the shadow dissipated. A jet-black, eye-shaped gem remained on the altar.

That was a "gift" left behind by the six-eyed raven after it had enjoyed the offerings.

“Raven's Eye Stone. It can provide the spiritual energy needed for the advancement of our disciples and can also be used to assist in some rituals and mystical models.”

Derica quietly explained the gem in the altar to Fran, and unconsciously licked her lips halfway through, quite restrainedly avoiding looking at it again.

Is it also for sale?

Although he didn't actually intend to pay, Fran was still a little curious about it.

"Yes. However, there is also an internal bidding process within the cult, and most other buyers are not very interested. After all, it only has the greatest value in the hands of our disciples."

"That's it."

Fran gazed at the jet-black gem and couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion.

After the God of Hunting took one of his eyes, the Six-Eyed Raven seemed to have developed a strange obsession with eyes... Oh, since he is missing an eye, shouldn't he be called the "Five-Eyed Raven"?

Cough. This raven's eye stone, while having some value, is not enough to be her target.

After all, the talent advancement program requires "sending out invitations in advance," and the stolen items must be of flawless quality or higher. Treasures that can reach this rating are rare.

In fact, this participation was more of a test.

Therefore... today Fran is indeed a pure "buyer".

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