The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 207

Phew... I'll prepare these next couple of days and personally go to that fallen city for on-site research.

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soup!

Chapter Ninety-Nine: Deer Shadow in the Deep Mirror

Just as the inchworm was dealing with the daily work at the newspaper while preparing for his trip to Morion... he learned from a casual conversation with the newspaper's editor-in-chief that a highly experienced investigative reporter was about to return to his post.

Upon further inquiry, it was learned that the other party was "Rosalie," a reporter who had participated in the coverage of the fallen city.

The inchworm had no liking for those fools who spent their days chasing after aristocratic gossip, but it held a sliver of admiration for this insightful investigative journalist.

It's truly remarkable that someone could dedicate so much energy to such a thankless and arduous task and achieve some initial results. In fact, according to several colleagues who spoke over drinks, Rosalie was transferred to Mordway precisely because of this.

After a whole day of writing, even though the inchworm was a disciple of the moth, it still couldn't help feeling exhausted.

During this period, he worked almost non-stop, alternating between day and night.

During the day, he worked intensely at the newspaper office; at night, he conducted undercover investigations, procured necessary weapon supplies on the black market, and secretly contacted transport companies willing to send him to the outskirts of the fallen city.

When he finally finished all his tasks and lay down on his bed in his residence, he fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Consciousness rises, dreams emerge.

It was a grand and absurd dream. The inchworm glimpsed a distant and broken door, through which the translucent antlers like branches and the graceful, harmonious body of a deer were reflected. They appeared and disappeared, like fleeting shadows and shimmering light.

The inchworm instinctively wanted to approach the other, but vaguely realized that the door and the doe's position were far beyond its reach.

The two sides were separated by a long staircase that seemed to stretch endlessly.

The steps were studded with thorny, caltrop-like blades and sharp fragments from shattered glass. Just seeing them, let alone stepping on them, made his eyes feel bloodshot, enveloped in a terrifying pain.

Just as the inchworm was feeling confused and bewildered, a letter printed with deer hoof wax floated down in front of him like a feather.

In a daze, he opened and tore open the letter.

[To Cyril Humphrey.]

I have witnessed your efforts in investigating the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower, and therefore, I will send someone to assist you. Soon, the Moon Familia's 'Rosalie Noralia' will return to Foy; explain your purpose to her, and she will accompany you.

[You can also contact Bartley, the Hunter's Supervisor. He can also offer you some assistance.]

Finally, when contacting these two, please mention that it's on behalf of 'Dr. Fran.' She's a friend of mine in the Hunters and can be trusted.

[—The Hermit.]

It is... a letter from the Hermit Lady.

Upon seeing the contents of the letter, Liu, who was in a dazed state of dreaming, suddenly woke up, and the hazy scene immediately became more and more real.

The first emotion that came to mind was genuine joy.

The hermit lady had acknowledged the progress he had made over this period, proving it hadn't been in vain. This was evidenced by her sending others to assist him. As for how she knew about his progress… it wasn't hard to guess.

The inchworm raised its hand and gently touched its left eye socket.

This eye was created by the other party, so the Hermit Lady could naturally monitor her movements in real time. As she said... this gift did not come without a price.

Secondly, if it were being "monitored" in this way by a fellow esoteric Buddhist disciple of similar rank, the inchworm would inevitably feel intense unease, anxiety, and even restlessness. It would stop at nothing to eliminate the inchworm, even if it meant gouging out its entire eyeball.

But if that person is an apostle of the Moth, the situation is different. The colossal statues of gods high in the heavens also observe mortals, but no one feels uncomfortable because of it; rather, being able to receive their attention is a blessing in itself.

"And this dream..."

After the inchworm read the letter, the entire dream structure began to gradually fade away. However, he was able to examine the surrounding scenes and wonders from a more rational perspective, almost like a "lucid dream."

Although everything he saw was beyond the scope of his mystical knowledge, it still stirred an irrepressible tremor within him. It was an almost instinctive yearning, like a moth that may not know why it chases after light.

A moment later, as the antlered doe let out a long cry, all the physical forms in the dream vanished.

All that remained was utter darkness.

After an unknown amount of time, the inchworm opened its eyes.

"Hmph... Was that deer shadow from last night the Hermit Lady's 'messenger'? A dream creature so powerful it's almost unbearable to look at, yet it willingly accepts such a command... Unbelievable."

He covered his forehead, the contents of last night's dream clearly visible in his mind, without the slightest forgetting.

Generally, dreams originate from subconscious emotional redundancy, and most of the things presented are quickly deleted by the brain through forgetting. But the contents of last night's letter seemed to be branded into the inchworm's mind, with even every punctuation mark clearly visible.

He glanced at the time; it was nearly 7 a.m. the next morning.

Time to get ready and head to the Foy Daily News office for another day of round-the-clock work...

Thinking of the newspaper, the inchworm couldn't help but ponder the contents of that letter regarding the helpers.

One was Rosalie, a member of the Moon's Familia, and the other... was actually a Hunter named Bartley. He had been mentioned in the intelligence I obtained from the Obscure Society; that guy was a funeral director who used a meat saw as a weapon.

He once single-handedly chopped dozens of armed pirates into pieces in a Black Sea tavern, and even managed to fight his way out of the encirclement when facing Louisa, who had transplanted shell fragments.

"To be able to command a funeral director, those fanatical hunters aren't so easily swayed... Or perhaps, the Hermit Lady is able to influence the Hunter's Order in some way, or through someone else?"

"Speaking of which, it's surprising that reporter Rosalie has connections with the Hermit Lady, and is even a member of the Moon Familia."

Before knowing of the woman's existence, the inchworm thought he had an intimate knowledge of Foy City, and even the entire Golmouth region. But after meeting her at the Third Habitat... he realized how laughable his previously self-righteous ignorance was.

The inchworm got up from the bed, finished its daily grooming in the bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to heat up some toast with Modaway cheese.

For a Foy resident with a decent economic situation, this was a fairly common breakfast. But to save energy and time, he also ate only cheese toast for lunch and dinner... and spent almost all his other time at the newspaper office compiling and organizing information.

Newcomers with great ability but no connections are always bound to suffer this kind of exploitation.

However, after the inchworm sent a few friendly greetings to his harsh boss and a few senior colleagues who liked to act like they were old-timers one evening a few days ago... his work schedule became much lighter.

The reason they still seem so busy is largely because they spend their evenings conducting unannounced visits to the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower.

This is no easy task. For some reason, the Star Abyss Society has been unusually sensitive to this lately. Foy is alright, but it's said that the Tide Listeners of Mordway have already entered a state of martial law.

Their condition was an absolute overreaction. They were like a pack of starving wild dogs, trying to bite into any meat they could find, almost hysterical.

Something must have seriously crossed their line, otherwise those guys who spend their days stargazing would never be so angry.

After walking for more than half an hour, the inchworm arrived at the Fuyi Ri SOUSuo:∴≈泗{∠罢牭三sanlin№坞报社.

He saw a woman with black hair and black eyes sitting next to his workspace. She hadn't appeared before, and... her skin had an unusually pale and cold look, which she tried to conceal, but a closer look would reveal some clues.

The black eyes are likely a disguise for their original eye color...

But aren't the Moon Familia supposed to avoid sunlight? So why does she appear in the morning?

The inchworm looked out the window and saw only a deep, dark gray haze, as if it were a harbinger of a typhoon and rainstorm.

It is said that most of the Moonkin have now lost their undead characteristics and are therefore no longer as afraid of sunlight as they used to be. Although they can still be burned by the midday sun, they can barely walk outside in relatively gloomy weather.

When Rosalie saw an unfamiliar person come to her workspace, she roughly guessed who he was.

If nothing unexpected happens, he should be the new colleague who joined the newspaper. I saw his name on the attendance record.

Good day, Mr. Sylvie.

Rosalie offered a polite greeting. But just as she was about to give a brief self-introduction, she heard the other person respond almost immediately.

"Good day, Ms. Rosalie."

The inchworm answered without hesitation, as if the two were old acquaintances rather than strangers.

"Ok?"

Rosalie was a little confused, so she raised her eyebrows slightly and carefully examined the person in front of her.

He wore a pair of silver-rimmed square glasses, and the double-breasted metal buttons of his winter coat were neatly fastened to the collar. He spoke in an orderly manner and did not have the infamous coastal accent of Foy City... He seemed to be a well-educated type.

"Mr. Cyril, do you know my name?"

“Of course. You are in charge of the section concerning the fallen city of Morion, which I happen to be very interested in. I have also learned about your situation from other sources.”

Seemingly worried that Luo Jiushali might misunderstand, Si Chi Huo Jin 8 tried to explain as clearly as possible. Three,◇3『'|∈♂

Then, his gaze swept around subtly, making sure no one was paying attention to the conversation.

It's still early, and there aren't many people in the newspaper's offices yet. So there's no need to worry too much about being spied on or eavesdropped on.

Taking advantage of this brief moment, the inchworm's lips moved slightly, and following the instructions of the hermit lady in the dream, it uttered a soft whisper to Rosalie that only she could hear.

“Ms. Rosalie, while most others remained silent about the natural disaster in the fallen city, you were one of the few who insisted on visiting the victims. But without seeing it with your own eyes... you can never know the truth.”

"I wonder if you are interested in traveling to the fallen city of Morion?"

Upon hearing this, Rosalie frowned slightly, and a look of seriousness appeared in her eyes.

For a "strange colleague" you're meeting for the first time, this is an extremely inappropriate invitation. It practically screams "ill-intentioned."

But Cyril's composure makes one wonder where his confidence comes from.

Moreover, she faintly caught a whiff of the moth's spirit lingering around her nose. Undoubtedly, this was a deliberate act by him to reveal his identity.

"Unless there is a special reason, please forgive me for refusing. The fallen city is now nothing but a dangerous ruin, and I do not want to die hastily in that dark corner."

After a moment, Rosalie cautiously responded with a refusal.

But she didn't leave immediately, because she wanted to know Sylir's reaction. In a way... this could be considered a strategic retreat.

After being rejected as expected, the inchworm stopped the pointless banter and explained the reason to Rosalie according to the words in the hermit lady's letter.

“Ms. Rosalie, please forgive my rudeness just now. This matter was entrusted to me by Dr. Fran III.”

Although he didn't know who Fran was, the Hermit mentioned in her letter that he was a trusted friend of hers in the Order of the Hunters. He was likely a senior physician in the Medical Court, or perhaps the head of the medical department.

"..."

Upon hearing what the inchworm said, Rosalie narrowed her eyes and fell silent for a moment.

If it was Dr. Fran's request, then everything does make sense. This sudden and unexpected development is really typical of her style...

Out of respect for Fran, Rosalie agreed for the time being.

“Alright. Mr. Sylir, how many people do you plan to go? Let me make it clear beforehand, I’m not the type who’s good at combat; at most, I can ensure my own safety and assist with some blood-sniffing and such tasks.”

Upon hearing this, the inchworm scratched its cheek, its eyes showing a hint of embarrassment.

Unfortunately, I'm also somewhat lacking in this area...

His secret arts and spirituality specialized in deception and driving people to madness, but he himself wasn't much stronger than an ordinary person. That's why the Nightmare Guest could take his eyes in an instant, without even a chance to resist...

"However, we should be able to get help from a Hunter Funeral Director. He is a true killing expert."

"Ok."

Rosalie nodded slightly, no longer dwelling on the issue.

The memory of Sister Heda splitting the body of the evil heir with a single sword strike in the Norrington sewers left a very deep impression on her... to the point that "Hunter of Secrets" was a very reliable concept in her subconscious.

As the time drew near to the attendance deadline, other newspaper members began to enter the office, and the two stopped talking.

Upon learning that she was to travel to the fallen city of Morion, Rosalie's emotions were quite complex. She had always wanted to witness the true state of the city firsthand, but had been constantly hindered by various factors.

The Noralia family's dissuasion, the Star Abyss Society's interference, and his own inner fear of evil and death...

To some extent, Dr. Fran's request served as a powerful external impetus, finally leading her to make up her mind to fulfill this wish.

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Soup!! (Transitioning.)

Chapter 100 Night Moths Dancing

In the boundless gray-white sea of ​​fog in the foggy street, a crow with glossy black feathers flapped its wings and soared through the air.

At this point, both Mordway and Foy have established Fog Street clinics, effectively connecting them across a boundary, making travel between the two places exceptionally convenient. A flight of just a few dozen seconds is all it takes to return to Foy.

If Luyala is Fran's messenger in his dreams, then Munin is the one in reality.

During this time, it stood beside Vivian during the day, dutifully fulfilling its duties as a callbird.

And every night, after Vivian fell asleep, it had to work for Fran during this time, meeting with people Luya couldn't conveniently see. It truly experienced the intensity of working day and night without rest...

The Tear of Heil that was taken from the Seastone Gate wasn't obtained for nothing; it required considerable effort.

Fortunately, Mu Ning is a nocturnal creature, and he hasn't had too much work during the day lately, so he spends most of his free time catching up on sleep in Vivian's pocket. Therefore, he doesn't experience any lack of energy.

"Gah."

Passing through the drifting fog, Mu Ning landed lightly on a wooden telephone pole by the Foy Harbor.