The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 184

Soup (Only two days left for perfect attendance)!

Chapter Seventy-Six: The Inchworm in the Forest

As the sacrificial ceremony came to an end, the raider who had presided over the ritual removed the raven-eye gem and placed it on a shelf beside him, a shelf used for displaying goods for sale.

His actions caused a slight stir among the people present.

This means the gathering is about to enter the part everyone is most concerned about... namely, the trading of the looted treasures.

The Six-Eyed Raven Order chose to have a high priest conduct the "Third Habitat" ceremony, partly out of respect for the Plum Moon Festival, and partly because... the collectibles to be sold this time were unusual and required security.

“Before the transaction begins, I’d like to reiterate the rules of the ‘third habitat’ in case any buyers who come here are unaware of them.”

The priest, wearing a raven mask, had a strangely hoarse voice, but his words were clear and did not have the coastal accent of Golmouth.

"Initially, it's a free trade process. You can state your needs or what you're selling, such as information, relics, or other materials containing spiritual elements... If both parties agree to the transaction, we won't charge any extra fees."

"However, if the order needs to help verify the traded items, a 3% commission will be required."

"Followed by this, a formal auction of the deposited items will take place. The goods come from the collection of the Order and from the sellers' prior entrustment. We will provide authentication and guarantees for the goods, and charge a 5% commission to both parties. Large transactions may enjoy tiered reductions."

"Finally, I am the officiant of this Plum Blossom Festival. You may call me 'Gray Trace'."

After finishing his explanation, the self-proclaimed Gray-Scarred Raven-Feather High Priest tapped the altar beside him, signaling the start of the free trade. Soon, some regulars who frequently attended the gatherings began to promote the items they wanted to sell.

"I have a scimitar here, a relic from Attilion, etched with the prayers of the Suncasting Order. It can ignite flames with just a little spirituality... 350 silver coins, any design will do, no bargaining. Take it or leave it."

The speaker was an old man wearing a mask from the Third Habitat. Only his arms, visible beneath his black robe, revealed some distinguishing features.

His arms were long, his fingers had prominent knuckles, and were covered in calluses. He seemed to be a craftsman.

"A bottle of the marrow essence of the disciples of the [Flower of Creation] has become inactive due to being stored for too long, but it can still be used as medicine or pigment. Some people also apply it to their faces, which is said to give them unparalleled inspiration."

"After all, it's a spirit-infused material, so 80 silver is a very fair price. However, I only accept Norrington currency."

The speaker was a young woman; although her face was obscured, her words carried a poetic quality.

While she was speaking, another attendee was promoting his own goods.

"Hey... I have a rose oil diffuser here. It's mixed with pearl powder and special bone powder, and the spiritual essence they contain can help you and your lover rediscover the feeling of first love... that innocent, sensitive, yet passionate impulse..."

"65 silver dollars, believe me, it's absolutely worth the money!"

……

Fran listened to their description with great interest, but seemed to have no intention of buying. He simply turned his head slightly and asked Detricka, who was beside him, for a question.

"Detrika, does the name 'Ash Mark' have any special meaning?"

As a disciple of the Six-Eyed Raven, Detricka did have some understanding of her sect's code name rules.

After a moment's thought, she answered Fran's question.

“Unlike the ashes revered by the Mysteries, in our order, ‘ash’ simply represents a color. Some high-ranking disciples refer to themselves by the limbs of a raven, and ‘scar’ represents the scars left by a raven’s claws.”

“Such as those that refer to themselves by their ‘beak,’ ‘feathers,’ or ‘eyes’.”

Fran nodded slightly, then raised a new question.

"If I'm not mistaken, 'eye' should refer to the highest-ranking type?"

"Ah...yes. But my rank is too low, and I have never seen a Raider who can be called by his eyes. I have only heard some seniors mention it in casual conversation."

Detrika responded softly.

Although there were several screens around, it wasn't a completely enclosed room. She was always inexplicably apprehensive when talking to Fran, afraid that she might accidentally say something taboo and be overheard.

Fran showed little interest in the items being sold by the other attendees. She even raised her hand to cover her lips and yawned through her veil.

First, there are the relics produced by the Sunforge Order. Sigrid could easily mass-produce those little toys with just a little raw material; there's really no need to spend money to buy them. As for the pearl incense with its mood-enhancing effects…

As a seasoned and skilled pharmacist, Fran could easily create a similar drug.

There happened to be one of those things in her graduation assessment for Medical Secretary Viola.

This is the classic stimulant, Bylestim, made from demon blood and spirit bone powder. Just a few milligrams are enough to kill a mortal in an intense, ecstatic pleasure.

Incidentally, what Fran previously gave the ascetics at the Hunger Club was a diluted solution of bud stimulation.

"Ms. Vivian, aren't you interested in these goods?"

Derica was puzzled when she saw Fran resting his cheek on his hand, looking as if he was about to fall asleep.

In fact, because it is the Plum Month Festival of the new year, the quality of goods from the Third Habitat is much higher than usual. Sellers are mainly offering items containing spiritual elements, not ordinary goods or junk.

Although Ms. Vivian's vision is certainly higher than that of ordinary cult disciples, it is appropriate to purchase one or two items to perfect the patron's disguised identity.

"Don't be impatient, Detrica. This is just an appetizer."

Fran noticed the thief's unease beside him and gently patted her to comfort her.

Just as she was waiting for the free trade session to end, a man with a somewhat grating voice made a request. And the contents of that request... were quite intriguing.

"I want to purchase some information. If you are interested, please contact me privately. The fee is over 400 silver coins. If the information is detailed enough, I can increase the price."

"Does anyone know why Louisa, the intelligence broker at the Black Sea Tavern, went mad?"

After he finished speaking, the voices of the other regular customers around him discussing prices also quieted down a bit.

Some people were somewhat surprised by this. Louisa was one of Foy's most well-known intelligence brokers, and although she was old, her spirituality and mystical knowledge were almost on par with the fourth step, which symbolizes the high priest.

Others showed great interest in this, having learned more or less about Louisa's current situation through their own intelligence networks.

...The sinister and strange old woman was found on a dark street corner. When she was found, she had lost the ability to communicate and was mumbling incoherently.

Rumors have it that Louisa has made progress in her promotion to high priest, but it is unclear whether there was a mistake in the process or if someone has harmed her.

"Oh... I know a bit about it."

A moment later, Fran's voice broke the brief silence.

At the same time, it also attracted the prying eyes of the other attendees.

The man who made the request was prepared for no one to respond, but when he heard that someone was willing to provide information, he couldn't help but focus his gaze on the speaker.

"Okay, let's talk privately then."

"However, let me state upfront that I will evaluate the information you provide and will only provide payment after confirming its accuracy. If you only know some ambiguous information, there's no need to waste each other's time."

Fran ignored his slightly harsh words and simply gestured for Detrick to wait there for a moment. Then she slowly stepped out from behind the screen that blocked the view.

"What a coincidence, I also hate wasting time."

The man looked at her clothes, a strange glint appearing in his eyes.

The Unification Faction? Most of the guys who still uphold the theory of the unity of two faiths are real old fogies, and some are even survivors from the lost era... But people of that rank would never have the time to participate in peripheral gatherings like the "Third Habitat".

Even if one truly seeks something from the Six-Eyed Raven, it should be at the Oak Shadow Nest.

In any case, a lady who can afford Ahanta silk probably wouldn't bother to cheat herself out of this small amount of money.

"You two, please come this way."

As they spoke, a waiter approached and led the way to the meeting room.

As a disciple of the Six-Eyed Raven, he possessed a mature and sophisticated understanding of reading people. Undoubtedly, both of them were qualified guests, thus deserving of more appropriate service.

As Fran and the client entered the meeting room, the waiter slowly approached Graymark and gave him an inquiring look.

The Six-Eyed Ravens don't receive any commission from these free trades of intelligence, yet they are still enthusiastic about facilitating them. The reason is simple... these ravens can obtain another, more valuable "commission" through other means.

"Heh... there's no need to listen to their conversation. You can try it if you want to become an idiot." 迩○∞匛<◆■“琳三唔@●露≠"澌刺≌{蝟〓4摺=代°」购｀‰：

Grayskin shook his head, not instructing him to follow the usual procedure of eavesdropping in the secret room.

The man was a highly experienced disciple of the Moth Cult, while the woman who called herself "the Hermit" belonged to the ancient Moth Unification Sect. If either of them had such ideas, they could easily weave in some maddening content into their conversation.

-

Inside the meeting room of the third habitat.

"Madam, you may call me 'inchworm'."

The man was the first to state his code name. It was a general term for a type of moth, a subtle way of indicating his identity.

"The Hermit."

Fran responded to him succinctly, without saying anything more.

Upon hearing this, the inchworm narrowed its eyes slightly, pondering the possible meanings of the name.

Tarot cards? The Hermit card also has another meaning: "The Lamp Holder." This suggests that while this woman belongs to the ancient Unificationist school, she leans more towards the faith of the lamp?

This is not good news. The members of the Cult of the Light are mostly fond of mystification. Moreover, some of their disciples completely abandon their emotions in pursuit of the Light, to the point that they can display extraordinary cruelty at times.

"Lady Hermit, since you've accepted this deal, you must know something about it. Tell me, what exactly caused Louisa to go mad?"

The inchworm spoke, getting straight to the point without any unnecessary words.

Fran blinked slightly in his amber eyes, and after a moment's thought, gave his answer.

"Although the remains of the shell-like holy heir are dangerous and deadly, they are, after all, an intoxicating power that is hard to relinquish. At the same time, they are her only hope to continue to live."

"The immense sense of loss from gaining and losing can destroy most people's mental fortitude."

Upon hearing the information revealed in her words, the inchworm's expression immediately turned serious.

Lady Nymph knew that Louisa's ascension to high priesthood was through the remains of a shell-like creature... and that her way of speaking was very straightforward, lacking the ethereal and seductive feel of the Lamp Cult.

"My apologies, it seems you do indeed know the inside story..."

A sense of oppression permeated the air. The inchworm felt its breathing was very light, as if it had lost the ability to inspire the spirit in the person in front of it.

But he later discovered that his body was actually perfectly normal, and the feeling of oppression was more like an illusion.

Temple: "So, do you know why she became like that?"

"Hmm... answering that question doesn't seem to be within the scope of our deal. Mr. Inchworm, I have told you, as you requested, why Louisa has gone mad."

Sanfran's eyes were slightly closed, and only a calm indifference could be seen between his brows.

Lin: "That's a separate price."

"How many do you want?" the inchworm asked, looking at the other with some difficulty.

Now that she knows what's on Louisa's body, she must understand the true value of the remains of the Holy Heir. Therefore, the previously agreed-upon 400 silver coins are merely a bonus.

"Don't worry, I don't have the habit of raising prices arbitrarily. How about this... add another 200 Norrington silver to buy out all the information about Louisa, how about that?"

Fran didn't offer an outrageous figure, but simply raised the original price slightly.

“A fair price. You are a generous lady.”

The price was well within the inchworm's acceptable range, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He then wrote 600 on a check from Norlington Central Bank, signed by an unknown financial organization.

"So, what's the answer to my question?"

Fran maintained an indifferent expression, her slightly upturned, glossy lips hidden beneath the gold veil, making them difficult to see.

"It's very simple... because I removed the shell fragments from her body, thus preventing her from being corrupted by the flesh and blood of the Holy Heir and saving her from the fate of becoming an unclean thing."

"In addition, I also restored her health. Unfortunately, she didn't seem very happy about it."

Her voice was like a gentle breeze brushing past his ear, soft and harmless. Yet the inchworm felt a chill suddenly rise from below its spine, surging into its limbs and bones.

"So, the Hermit... it was you who took the sacred remains from Louisa?"

"I thought I had given a clear enough hint."

Fran raised an eyebrow and sighed softly.

"It's incredibly irresponsible of you to just put that kind of polluting stuff on your experimental subjects and parade it around like that. I guess I'll just have to swallow my pride and act as a cleaner."

Silently, the steel tailbone of the "Matching Spine" Sphinx emerged from beneath Fran's gray gauze robe. Its sharp, blade-like tip sliced ​​across the lacquered mask on the inchworm's face, like a long tongue flicked out by a snake.

"The short story is over. Mr. Inchworm's wife is dirty. Now, may I make the payment?"

-

-

Chapter Seventy-Seven: Deterrence and Obedience

"What do you want to do, Lady Hermit..."

The inchworm instinctively tried to retreat, but found that the strangely shaped, pitch-black tailbone had already surrounded it, blocking its escape route.

The steel spine so close at hand gave him an indescribable sense of oppression, as if it were a higher-ranking moth-like spirit. Even though he couldn't perceive its existence at all, the flow of his own power had become sluggish and hesitant.