The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 208

Soon, its gaze pierced through the dim light inside the Black Sea Tavern and locked onto its target: Bartley, who was drinking.

Although he was still chugging "Anglerfish" stout glass after glass, Bartley was there to do serious business.

Just like the last time he came to the Black Sea Tavern, it was to meet the intelligence merchant Louisa... but the events that time took an unexpected turn, escalating into a violent and deadly conflict. He spent a considerable amount of time recovering from his injuries afterward.

"Phew, the dark beer at the Black Sea Tavern is definitely the best. The stuff I've been drinking elsewhere these past few days can't even compare to horse piss."

"After what happened here last time, I thought I'd be blacklisted and never be seen again. I never expected to be able to drink here again."

Bartley downed his glass, let out a sigh, and then brushed the creamy foam from his lips.

“Mr. Bartley, you were the victim of that assassination attempt. The White Cup Order has always refuted the absurd notion of ‘victim blaming,’ so how could we possibly blame a loyal customer for that?”

Sitting across from him at the thornwood table was Professor Utus of the White Cup Oceanography Department.

On his table sat a glass of amber-colored golden rum. Compared to beer, which is not easy to preserve in large quantities and has a slightly lower alcohol content, this type of distilled spirit is more suitable for seafarers who spend long periods of time on board ships.

“Hey…” Bartley grinned slightly, revealing a rough, low laugh.

"If it weren't for Louisa's assassination attempt, I wouldn't have known that this place I've been drinking at for so many years was owned by you."

Upon hearing this, Utus shook his head and began to explain the origin of the tavern.

"If the word 'we' refers to the White Cup Order, that's not accurate. This tavern is Captain Niflår's personal property, used to subsidize the daily expenses of the 'Levia,' and has no real connection with the Order."

"That's it."

Bartley nodded to indicate that he understood. He then steered the conversation to the main topic.

"Since you've chosen this time to meet me, you must have some requests. But I'm going to the lost city of Morion soon to avoid those guys at Star Abyss Academy who suddenly went mad for no apparent reason, and also to track down the Nightmare Guest."

"They probably don't have time to take on freelance work."

Upon hearing his words, Utus did not show disappointment. Instead, his eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a smile that was difficult to decipher.

"That's quite a coincidence; our request happens to be related to this. The captain wants to investigate the sacrificial rituals within the fallen city... I will accompany him on this trip."

"At the same time, the transportation issue can also be left to us. The freeze-up period at Morion Port has ended, and even if evil creatures appear, the Leviathan can make a short stop."

"Oh?"

Bartlett opened his eyes with interest, thought for a moment, and readily agreed.

"In that case, I won't refuse. I will assist you to the best of my ability, without affecting the content of my own mission."

How to get to Morion was a problem that had been troubling him for some time.

Since the natural disaster, the railway lines in the fallen city have been completely paralyzed and destroyed. While traversing the wilderness alone is not impossible, it would be far too time-consuming and would limit the amount of supplies one could carry.

Since the person with the white cup can solve this problem, he is quite happy to hitch a ride on their coattails.

"In that case, let's set off immediately..."

As he spoke, Utus suddenly noticed something on Bartley's shoulder. It was a black callbird, its expression calm and natural, occasionally tucking its beak under its wing to preen its feathers.

"Mr. Bartley, is Agent Vivian nearby?"

He asked with some curiosity.

She hasn't contacted me during this time.

After saying this, Bartley followed Utus's gaze and saw the raven Munin perched on his shoulder.

The callbirds possess some spiritual qualities, which allows them to appear silently and stealthily in certain places, almost like ghosts.

"A callbird?"

He noticed a small, rolled-up letter tied to Mu Ning's slender toes, took it off, and began to read it.

[The Moon Familiar 'Rosalie' and the Moth Disciple 'Siriel' will soon be traveling to the fallen city of Morion. If possible, Mr. Bartley would appreciate it if they could accompany them. They are currently at the Foy Daily News. —Fran Hesser]

Due to space limitations, the letter is quite brief.

"I see……"

After reading the letter, Bartley showed a hint of understanding. Finally, he asked Utus for his opinion on the other side of the table.

“Mr. Utus, I’m afraid I need to take two more people with me on this trip. One is a member of the Moon Clan, and the other… is probably from the Moth’s side, but they shouldn’t be from the Misty Society.”

"It's fine, you can arrange the accompanying personnel as you see fit. As long as you can make sure they are trustworthy enough."

Utus would certainly not refuse any additional assistance.

However, he also had some doubts about the identities of these two people. Normally, the hunter supervisors of the Hunter Cult were used to working alone, only acting in groups when carrying out purge orders. It was even rarer for them to bring other members of the cult during a search...

Moreover, they are the Moon's Kin and the Night Moth's Disciples. One of these sects originated from vampires, while the other is mostly composed of deceitful liars, both of whom are not well-liked by hunters.

Seeing that Utus had no objection, Bartley finished his last glass of "Anglerfish" stout and then got up to leave the tavern.

"Alright, then let's do as you say and set off tomorrow."

If the letter had come from someone else, he would probably have had to reconsider. But since it was Dr. Fran's request... he had no choice but to accept it for now.

After all, the chainsaw sword "Sharktooth" that she gave him was far too valuable, and he had to find a way to repay this favor.

……

Nighttime, Foy Daily News office.

To avoid becoming the subject of gossip among their colleagues, Inchworm and Rosalie chose to leave work at different times and reunite after leaving the newspaper office.

After all, most people who choose journalism as a profession possess a strong sense of curiosity. Not to mention those who spend their days chasing after gossip; any interaction with the opposite sex around them seems to awaken some kind of professional instinct within them…

Just as the two arrived at the edge of a dark alleyway, intending to discuss their journey to Morion further... they suddenly noticed a burly, robust figure approaching from their direction.

"Gah!"

The leader, Muning, let out a cry.

Bartley stroked his roughly trimmed beard and looked at the two men in front of him.

"A black-haired woman with eyes that seem to be disguised in some way. Are you the Moon Clan member that Dr. Fran mentioned in his letter?"

After saying that, he turned his gaze to the inchworm beside him.

"A young, pale-faced fellow with silver glasses, he looks like he's got a lot of ulterior motives. Oh... you're that Moth Disciple?"

Upon seeing the newcomer, Rosalie pursed her lips.

Although the Moon Familia were no longer the prey of the Hunters as they once were, she still couldn't help feeling a little intimidated when a hunter exuding an imposing aura approached.

Is he the hunter supervisor that Cyril mentioned, the one who could offer assistance?

Even the thick leather coat couldn't completely conceal his bulging muscles, the several tearing scars on his face left by sharp claws and teeth, and the hem of his coat clearly concealing weapons...

It must be said that the hunters at the funeral home can easily instill a sense of security, or perhaps fear.

Before she could even decide how to begin, the inchworm, with the exceptional linguistic skills of a disciple of the night moth, was the first to respond.

"Thank you for the compliment. I will take the description 'full of ghost water' as a form of recognition."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Manager Bartley."

Bartley merely snorted in response, then offered a somewhat cautionary reminder.

"A smooth-talking brat."

"Just call me Bartley. I absolutely hate being called 'Supervisor,' so don't make me hear that title a second time. Of course, I'm the only one who feels this way; the other hunters don't have this taboo."

Out of investigative journalist's professional instincts, Rosalie couldn't help but feel a little curious.

She considered her words for a moment before asking a follow-up question.

“Um, Mr. Bartley… why is that? Isn’t the rank of supervisor a recognition of a hunter’s abilities?”

"That's right, your statement is correct."

Bartley paused for a moment, then began to explain.

“When I was young, I worked in Loretown… Some of the ‘supervisors’ there were no different from bureaucrats, and were even worse. They were more interested in worldly money and power than in purifying evil.”

"Just as I thought, after the chaos in the North, most of the people at the Hanging Blade Training Ground where I used to work became despicable traitors under corruption. They went from being 'hunters' to being the hounds and servants of the Loreton nobles, or to becoming robbers, kidnappers, or even slave traders."

"sad."

As he said this, a hint of fierce coldness appeared in his eyes.

"It's a real pity. He was in such a hurry when he escaped Loreton that he lost control of his emotions. He accidentally crushed the head of the former training ground supervisor and couldn't keep it..."

Normally, Bartley wouldn't deliberately mention this unpleasant past to others.

But he recently acquired a beloved and handy weapon, and was in a good mood, so he didn't mind spending some time explaining things to others.

"I'm sorry to have made you mention these things."

The turmoil in the Northern Kingdom was a wound that the Hunters could never forget, and Rosalie had heard of it. She lowered her gaze slightly, expressing her apology.

"Just some trivial old story."

Bartley waved his hand, clearly unconcerned.

"Sooner or later, we will kill all the traitors who have fallen into the mire. And those so-called behind-the-scenes figures in Loretown... They will all pay with their own heads for the blood shed by my comrades."

He let out a sigh of relief and began to ask the two of them if they were ready for their trip.

"By the way, have you arranged how to get to Morion?"

Indeed, we have already made progress in understanding this issue regarding inchworms.

"A sizable number of evil offspring roam the fallen city, and the surrounding area is far too dangerous. Ordinary transport companies simply dare not take their jobs. Even using black market transport channels inevitably takes time... and their prices are usually outrageous."

"However, I managed to find a few vendors with reasonable prices using some tricks. I can set off within a week."

"It doesn't have to be that troublesome."

A few days ago, Bartley might have been interested in this. But now that he has Utus's permission, he naturally doesn't need to put in any more effort in this regard.

"The White Cup Order's 'Levia' will take us to Morion. You just need to prepare what you need to take tonight, and we will set off tomorrow. In addition, a professor from the Department of Oceanography will accompany us to Morion Port."

"Although I've never seen that guy make a move, I can tell he's a real tough guy."

A professor in the Department of Oceanography with a white cup?

Before it could even realize that all its efforts from the previous days had gone to waste, the inchworm's eyes narrowed upon hearing this, and its thoughts began to wander.

The Hunter of Mysteries, the Moon Familiar, and myself from the Obscure Society… and now, the Exorcist of the White Cup has been added. All four members come from various cults with vastly different backgrounds and stances.

It was as if a pair of hands hidden behind the stage curtain were pulling invisible threads, bringing everyone together in the same scene.

Most people are either unaware of this subtle guidance and manipulation, or they feel resistance towards it. But the inchworm only feels a heartfelt joy, almost to the point of relishing it.

The dancers of the Crimson Cup only began to dabble in dance, an art far older than language, during the lost ages, and only to shed their physical forms in pursuit of painful pleasure... From the perspective of the Moth devotees, they simply do not understand its profound essence.

True dance is only for the beating of the heart and soul, swaying the body and turning the eyes in the fervent anticipation of transformation and change.

To be able to step onto the real-world "stage" orchestrated by the Hermit Lady, even as a puppet controlled by invisible threads, even as a mere supporting character, is an unparalleled honor for the inchworm.

-

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Perfect attendance is almost achieved!

Chapter 101 Vivian

The next day.

Led by Bartley, Inchworm and Rosalie boarded the Leviathan at Foyport.

Unlike when they arrived from Norrington, this large steamship no longer carried ordinary passengers. Moreover, every sailor was armed, seemingly ready for combat at any moment.

After all, they were heading to that infamous, fallen city... anything could happen along the way. They had to maintain the highest level of vigilance to prevent any unforeseen circumstances.

Professor Utus was quite enthusiastic because of the special relationship between the Moon Familia and the White Cup Order.

"Welcome, Ms. Rosalie. Please give my regards to the Order of the Moon of Metamorphosis."

“Oh, and Mr. Cyril. I just don’t know whether you are from the ‘Misty Society’ or a lone follower of the Night Moth?”

At the simply prepared dinner, he made a request to learn more about Sylir's background.

Aside from him, most of the people here knew each other's backgrounds and identities. Even those who hadn't known each other well had a basic understanding of one another. Bartley was a Hunter of Mysteries, his goal being to hunt down the Nightmare Guest; Rosalie was a member of the Moon's Familiar, probably wanting to uncover the past of the Lost City…

Professor Utus was commissioned by Captain Niflöll to verify a certain conjecture in Morion.

The origins and purpose of the inchworm remain almost a mystery, with only the knowledge that he is a disciple of the moth. Coincidentally, his cult is one of the most secretive, having almost no involvement or contact with other forces.

“I can be a member of a sham society, or I can be a lone wolf. It all depends on what I do for the person I serve.”