The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 243

Derica offered a slightly hesitant greeting, occasionally glancing up to observe the nun following Fran. She wore a deep black leather hunting outfit, had a tall and well-proportioned figure, and possessed cold, chestnut-grey eyes.

Even though they are on the same side, the raider will always feel uneasy when facing a genuine Funeral Court hunter. Just like a hare to a falcon, an antelope to a cheetah, a mosquito to a wolf spider…

Of course, the so-called natural enemy relationship is not absolute. In some places, plunderer fanatics harbor deep hatred for hunters and may even launch attacks against them. However, this is Gormouth, and in the absence of a conflict of interest, no one wants to cause unnecessary trouble.

"Good day."

Adhering to the usual simplicity of funeral maids, Heda responded to Detrica's greeting.

At this moment, the nun's face was ashen, indifferent and calm, showing no emotion whatsoever. However, if someone were to observe closely, they would notice that she slightly narrowed her eyes when she heard Fran addressed as "Vivian."

A barely perceptible smile seemed to flash by.

“It’s only been a few days, Detricka, don’t be shy. Although our previous deal is over, you’re still my informant. Tell me more, what exactly is this ‘anomaly’ you’re referring to in the underground exchange?”

"Ok."

Detrica breathed a sigh of relief when she found that the "Vivian" before her gave her the same feeling as always. In Golmouth, it was nothing new for temporary informants who had lost their usefulness to be disposed of afterward.

There are two advantages to doing this: firstly, it allows you to recoup the promised reward; secondly, it ensures that the intelligence and your own whereabouts will not be leaked later.

However, it seems somewhat inappropriate to use this line of thinking to speculate about Ms. Vivian. Her style of doing things is quite different from some of the profit-driven fellows in Gormouth, and she herself belongs to the Secret Court, carrying the rigorous contractual spirit of the Hunters.

"Well, where should I begin? Let me first introduce the underground exchange in the Belfarin district... The tavern we're in, 'Forkbell and Bone Cup,' is the secret entrance to the exchange. Its main business is selling goods of unknown origin that may also pose a risk."

"For example, there are damaged spirit-infused materials, jewels and artifacts stolen from other countries, or special books that are not convenient to circulate on the market. The types are very diverse, the quality varies, and some even contain curses."

When the curse was mentioned, Detrica pursed her lips, a hint of worry on her face.

"Speaking of which, I know an unlucky buyer. He bought an artifact that he had clearly examined very carefully, but it had a nested structure... and contained a variant of the 'Delayed Breath Curse' inside."

"The Curse of Delay? That's a classic spell."

Fran was clearly interested in this news. She tilted her head slightly, adopting a listening posture.

"So, did that unfortunate patron die or grow old as a result?"

"In fact, no."

Even Detrick herself felt a sense of absurdity when talking about this.

"The stagnation curse on that relic seems to have lost most of its power over time, while the remaining spiritual essence has acted on his fastest-growing tissue... namely his hair."

"He went bald after his attempt to dispel the curse failed."

Upon hearing this, Fran narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Hmm... Although it's a 'weakened variant,' it seems to be even more frightening than the original. At least in terms of its insulting nature. However, I suspect the unusual activity at the underground exchange has nothing to do with those unreliable relics."

"Yes. Although those relics posed a considerable risk, the transaction process itself was in accordance with procedures."

Detrick nodded slightly and then began to recount what she had learned recently.

"The problem lies with the slave storage facility of the 'Snow Country's Edge' caravan. It was attacked last night, several guards died on the spot, their bodies covered with claw marks and bite marks, and most of the slaves that were originally for sale were released."

"Front of the Snow Country..."

Upon hearing the name, Haida's grey-chestnut eyes narrowed momentarily, then hardened like frost. For this nun, this expression signified that she had found her prey and was eager to begin the hunt.

"Even after his defection, 'Broken Blade' is still so eager to adorn himself with fancy empty titles, shameless as ever... Please show me the way, Miss Detrica. I need to see those slave traders from Loreton."

“Okay, okay,” Detricka replied somewhat awkwardly.

Even though the nun's cold tone wasn't directed at her, she still couldn't help but shiver. It seemed that for those hunter traitors from the North, the escape of the "cargo" might not be the worst thing that had happened in the past few days... after all, that was only an economic loss.

Now they are likely facing a real threat of death.

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With everything under control, how could Ri Geng escape?

Chapter 138 Pure White

As the name "underground exchange" suggests, it is indeed located underground.

The exotic tavern "Bell Fork and Bone Cup" is not the only entrance, so the number of customers here is not very large, and most of them are ordinary drinkers.

But as you walk through the hidden staircase and truly enter the trading area, you'll see numerous simple shops and stalls, as well as a bustling crowd.

This is a newly opened underground district, with concrete walls and ceilings, winding and long, stretching as far as the eye can see. The space isn't particularly cramped, but the atmosphere still feels somewhat claustrophobic due to the limited lighting provided by a few mystical lamps hanging from the ceiling.

However, both shops and stalls have their own lighting equipment, so there won't be any situation where the goods are not clearly visible.

To avoid causing unnecessary panic with her highly recognizable funeral maid armor, Haida specially put on a large travel robe before entering. Besides concealing her identity as a hunter, it could also slightly cover her power sword, which was nearly as tall as a person.

Fran also changed into his own silk robe embroidered with moth patterns.

"Phew... Entering the underground exchange through other passages requires some simple checks to prevent law enforcement officers or people carrying dangerous goods from sneaking in."

"However, we are using the supply channels of the Six-Eyed Raven Order, which saves us a lot of unnecessary trouble. If it weren't for the token given to us by High Priest Grey Scar in advance, we would have had to go through a lot of procedures to get in, and the intelligence gathering work would not have been so smooth."

At this point, Detrika couldn't help but feel a little emotional.

Because the "Hermit" lady twice provided the order with invaluable esoteric documents... she has become one of the most important patrons in the eyes of several Ravenfeather High Priests. However, her whereabouts are a mystery, and her identity is quite enigmatic, making it impossible to fathom her background.

Therefore, Detricka, who accompanied her several times, was regarded as the only "middleman" who could contact her. She gained some attention from the Six-Eyed Raven Cult.

Otherwise, given this plunderer's current social standing, he is far from being able to hold exchange tokens.

"Um, shall we head directly to the Snow Country's Edge shop now?"

Although she could sense the deep killing intent emanating from the nun beside her, Detrick, out of caution, first inquired about the specific itinerary.

Upon hearing this, Haida did not respond directly, but slowly turned her head and looked calmly at Fran beside her.

For this nun, seeking her opinion before taking any action had almost become a habit. Although she could be a bit unconventional at times, and her perspectives were often eccentric and unorthodox, she was ultimately reliable.

"Ms. Vivian, besides going to the 'Broken Blade's' base to investigate, do you have any other plans?"

As she opened her mouth, the word "Dr. Fran" was already on the tip of her tongue, but she quickly corrected herself and didn't actually say it.

"Since we're here, why don't we take a look at what's for sale along the way? Don't worry, it won't take too long."

Fran did not intend to head straight to Broken Blade's shop.

After all, Haida's trip to those slave traders in the northern kingdoms wasn't to sit down and discuss business peacefully. If she made any noise, the guards outside would notice something amiss, and she probably wouldn't be able to purchase goods so openly anymore.

Of course, Fran had many ways to end people's lives quietly and without leaving a trace... but she wasn't keen on this kind of business of actively taking lives. This wasn't due to her professional nature as a doctor, but simply her personal habit.

Moreover, this was Haida's hunting expedition, and she had no intention of overstepping her bounds.

"Ah."

Haida had no objection to this.

She consistently followed the doctor's decisions. The hunters of the Funeral Court were not without their own opinions and inclinations, but when there was a more capable "brain" in command, they preferred to act as pure executors, or rather... weapons.

Upon seeing this, Detrika was somewhat surprised.

She roughly understood the attitude of the Eight Hunters from Norrington towards the traitor, treating him like a grain of sand in their eye or a fly in their cup—they would almost certainly eliminate him on sight.

Even so, the nun did not seem to go against Ms. Vivian's wishes in the slightest.

Of course, Fran could understand Haida's eagerness to cleanse the traitors, and she did not intend to start selecting goods without any preparation.

"Is it time to get up?"

As she spoke, she gently shook the large pocket of her doctor's coat. Then, a jet-black raven, as black as silk, poked its head out. It blinked slowly, visibly dazed, as if it had just woken up.

“Go and monitor the slave shops of ‘Snow Country Edge’. Hmm… those guys are easy to identify. Because they live in the North for many years, the winter elemental essence on their bodies is even stronger than that of ordinary hunters.”

"Gah!"

Mu Ning cautiously looked around, then let out a soft cry. After confirming that no one was paying attention to it, it slowly flapped its wings and leaped into a dark corner.

"This way we won't have to worry about those 'Broken Blades' leaving beforehand, and we can also find out their numbers and defenses at the same time."

After completing this measure, Fran turned around and explained to Haida with a slight smile in his eyes.

"Thank you for your trouble, Ms. Vivian."

Haida nodded slightly, then let out a soft sigh, allowing her intense hatred for the remnants of the Northern Kingdom to cool down somewhat. For a hunter of secrets, maintaining composure and eliminating the enemy are equally important.

The reason why this nun had such a clear reaction can be traced back to an incident during her reserve service... At that time, she followed a hunter mentor and traveled through the Black Wasteland and many towns, completing a hunt for an outer priestess over several months.

Her mentor died in the cold and remote north sometime later.

His body was pierced by bullets and blades from the traitors, and his mangled remains were buried in the snow and wind, unclaimed. His comrades who witnessed everything were unable to offer any help and could only retreat according to the original plan.

Many years had passed since the outbreak of the Loredon Rebellion, but a small number of secret hunters still remained on the covert front. Being trapped in the enemy's lair, they would face disaster once they were exposed.

In fact, the nobles of the Northern Kingdom mostly adopted a policy of "recruiting" the captured hunters, as the more henchmen and lackeys they had, the better. However, the corrupt traitors, fearing that the hunters would take away their spoils, went to great lengths and held nothing back during the encirclement and suppression.

……

As Fran and his group gradually entered the trading area, the sales pitches soliciting customers became clearer and more frequent.

"The White Cup relic from Philanes was just unearthed from an ancient ruin there. Its effects haven't been tested yet. It costs 36 Gol silver, even pirates would consider it a bargain! You might just find something worthy of being added to the relic register. I'm only staying in Mordway for a week, so I won't have the chance to buy it again next time."

The speaker was a thin, wiry young seller whose face was covered by a dirty leather cloth, obscuring his features. His eyes darted around slyly, sizing up every potential customer.

He even had a pickaxe and a shovel next to him, seemingly unconcerned about others knowing where this guy got his goods.

"The tobacco is premium quality from Ahantas, only 20 Gol silver per pack. We also have various types of pipes and hookahs to choose from... In addition to these, we have some amazing products that will make you feel like you're flying after just one try. New customers can sample them for free..."

The speaker was a voluptuous woman draped in an Atilan veil, her face half-hidden, her voice alluring, adorned with gold thread ornaments in the style of the Land of Shifting Sands. Large swathes of fair skin could be vaguely glimpsed beneath the thin fabric.

However, when she looked at Fran walking by, the words that were about to come out suddenly stopped, and her eyes showed a hint of unspeakable astonishment.

The texture, the color, the style, and the exquisite, obscure pattern... Without a doubt, she was wearing genuine Ahanta silk.

That was "woven gold," far superior to any cheap imitations I could wear.

In Attilion, only the most unapproachable clergy and nobles could afford clothing of this material. Even those individuals would only wear it during sacrifices or on important occasions, yet she so casually wore it as a disguise?

Fran ignored the hookah shop owner's strange expression. As a highly professional doctor, she was not particularly interested in such unhealthy pastimes.

Besides all sorts of strange living creatures, this underground exchange even sells snacks, making its business scope truly comprehensive.

"Bacon and sausage, buttered toast, naan bread and meat rolls, boiled prawns, grilled squid, braised flower crab, fish fillets, scallops, abalone, black eel, razor clams, sand clams..."

"One silver dollar per plate, with free dipping sauce. Also available are coconut rum and Naurmaran iced tea, the prices are listed on the bottles."

It appeared to be a seafood barbecue shop, and it seemed to be doing quite well, with many customers lingering nearby. One has to admire their unconventional thinking—selling food in an underground exchange teeming with contraband…

Fran had little interest in the kind of aimless and tedious wandering.

This woman had little interest in anything that would drain her energy. The reason she suggested looking for Broken Blade's slave traders later was more to find out what types of contraband Mordway usually sold.

After wandering around for a while, she arrived at the shop where she had previously sold the white cup's relics.

"Sir, is there anything you'd like to see?"

When the young stall owner saw someone approaching, he immediately flashed a warm smile. Of course, his face was covered with cloth, so only a hint of a smile could be seen in his eyes.

"Are the goods you're selling really from Ferranes?"

Fran didn't directly state his intention to buy the goods; instead, he first inquired about their origin.

"Of course, I also have a ship ticket from Philanes to Foy from a few months ago. And, well... it's probably only the old ruins of White Cup that would produce these mechanical relics of unknown significance."

As they spoke, the stall owner actually pulled a creased ship ticket from his pocket. It was marked with the corresponding date and belonged to Lois Commercial Shipping Company, a subsidiary of the White Cup Order.

It's somewhat ironic that the White Cup Order's ships were being used to transport their own relics... but it was unavoidable, since the company didn't check passengers' luggage.

"In that case, I'll buy the three on the left side of this row."

As he spoke, Fran pointed to the three mechanical relics that were still covered in dust.

They are a broken metal music box, a rusty metal sphere, and an unknown mechanical device made up of several tightly meshed gears.

"Yes, sir. Oh, you are so beautiful and generous... I'll wrap them up right away. Rest assured, your beautiful robes will not be stained with a speck of dirt."

While showering his female customers with commercial flattery, the stall owner eagerly produced a reasonably clean leather package and bundled together the three relics Fran had specified. Such generous buyers were rare, and he had to provide commensurate service.

"100 Norrington silver, no change needed."

Fran took a banknote with the image of the first Meredith printed on it from his pocket and handed it to the stall owner.

Due to exchange rates and the weight of the currency, Norlington silver has a much higher actual value and purchasing power than Gore silver, and even local residents prefer this type of "foreign currency".

"Oh, please allow me to express my gratitude to you again... I hope to have the opportunity to trade with you again next time."

He took the 100-silver note, then expertly checked it against the occult lamp beside him. After confirming that it was genuine, he happily handed over the relics.

The transaction was clean and efficient, without much trouble.