The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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It was a spacious and exquisite doll workshop, the entire room maintaining a meticulous minimalist style, devoid of any decorations or furnishings. Hundreds of doll models, not yet undergoing further processing, were neatly arranged on both sides of the workshop, in order from flawed to high-quality products.

"So this is it."

Fran looked around with a touch of nostalgia, a hint of understanding appearing in his amber eyes.

The doctor had visited this dreamlike doll workshop before, back when she conducted Child's first dream reading at the Mirror of Enlightenment Club in Norlington. At that time, she had thought how wonderful it would be to move the entire workshop there…

Crossing the long corridor formed by countless dolls, Fran saw a familiar figure at the end of the workshop.

That was the owner of this dream, Child.

At this moment, he was dressed in a white scholar's uniform with a style reminiscent of a lost era, and in his arms was a withered old man who had been dead for a long time. This was his creator, the unknown puppet master.

At this moment, Child's expression was one of indescribable complexity.

Sadness, confusion, and bewilderment coexisted.

He is a new individual, but the human spirit within him endows him with sufficiently mature thinking abilities. It is precisely because of this that he has fallen into confusion due to his reflections on the current situation.

He carries the heavy burden of the creator's wish to continue civilization, yet he is also caught in the cataclysm of an era's destruction. What should he do now? Where should he go? Should he grieve for the "father" who has died before him?

The vast workshop was silent, and the collapse of the tower was as slow as a feather falling; no one could answer Childe's questions.

He pondered again and again until he was completely buried in the rubble of the broken wall. But he quickly crawled out again, unharmed except for some dust on his clothes.

Fran stood in front of Child and tentatively waved, but the other didn't react. ♂＋↑

"Just as I thought, it's impossible to interfere with pre-existing memory fragments."

She quickly came to a conclusion.

Just as Fran was about to turn back and instruct Luara to devour the disordered excess of consciousness, the surrounding scenery changed without warning. The once pristine ruins seemed to have been weathered for a thousand years, their original shape no longer recognizable.

Dressed in his academic gown, Child also donned a leather jumpsuit, looking like a weary traveler. His indigo eyes held a sense of vicissitude and resolve, the confusion seemingly completely dissipated.

The scene we see now is a memory from another time, a thousand years after the beginning of time, or even hundreds of years after the end of the era.

"You've arrived, you madman seeking the ruins of the Pure White Era."

He slowly turned his head and looked in Fran's direction.

However, Fran did not respond. He simply turned slightly to the side and then took a few light steps to walk away.

Child's gaze wasn't focused on himself; clearly, his words were directed at someone else. Following the direction, one could see a young man in a researcher's uniform.

He wore round-framed glasses with gold wire mesh, had pale skin, and delicate features.

Through the subtly reflective lenses, one could see a pair of intense yet deep, cool green eyes, with an emerald-like quality.

"In fact, I am not interested in the glory and achievements of the past. The idea of ​​'restoring the glory' is probably only useful when it is inspiring. If such slogans are shouted too often, it would be bad if we actually believed them ourselves."

"What I pursue is not in the past, nor can I obtain it now; I can only place my hopes on the ever-extending future."

The visitor gently pushed the bridge of his nose with his ring finger and adjusted his round-framed glasses.

Child remained expressionless, seemingly already guessing what the other person wanted to say.

"I guess what you're pursuing is 'truth,' right?"

"Yes... that's right."

"Although the term is somewhat vague and has been misused by certain fools in several sects, it is indeed true."

The young scholar wearing round-framed glasses nodded, acknowledging the other person's guess.

"The truth I pursue is the objective reflection of reality, matter, existence, and the principles governing the world in my mind. What I am obsessed with is the rational process of turning the unknown into the known and gradually dismantling the high wall of agnosticism."

"Before we delve into this obscure philosophical question, please allow me to introduce myself. Grantham Isaac. You may have heard of this name before, but that's irrelevant..."

"As members of the New White Cup Order, we call ourselves 'Refuters'."

Upon hearing Grantham's words, Child's previously calm gaze flickered imperceptibly for a moment.

He had initially assumed the man before him was either a rigid scholar clinging to outdated dogma, or an opportunist coveting the power of ancient mysticism. After all, most of those labeled as madmen were like that, with few exceptions.

“Child, this is the name given to me by my ancestors who created me.”

“Mr. Grantham, given what you have just said, there is a possibility that we can have further conversation. I will ask you three questions, and if your answers satisfy me, I will give you the ancient legacy of the Pure White Era’s ancestors.”

Grantham raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised.

Through the great forerunner's dream-like ramblings, he learned the location of this White Cup ruin. Because it was situated in Philanes, the "Shattered Land," determining and exploring the ruin's exact location consumed considerable time and effort.

He had thought that this place would contain some kind of lost secret artifact, or perhaps mechanical technology... but he never expected that it would be a living person who called himself Child, and that the other party seemed to know something about the outside world and himself.

"I can answer questions, but it's best if they're not too abstract riddles."

After a moment's thought, he nodded slightly in agreement.

"Ah."

After a moment, Child began asking questions.

"What were the principles of sexuality that the great pioneers grasped?"

"Enlightenment, cups, casting. In even more ancient times, there were abandoned lights."

Grantham answered decisively, without the slightest hesitation.

Child did not respond to whether it was right or wrong, but immediately followed up with a second question.

"Why did the ancient people of Baibei, who pursued rationality, ultimately abandon the upward-swirling light of the lamp?"

Upon hearing this, Grantham subtly licked the corner of his lips, as if he sensed a strange fervor burning within him.

"Because of 'distrust'."

"The light embodies the principles of reason and the pursuit of knowledge, while also possessing the nature of prophecy and divination, which we see as a contradiction. The light, which transcends the physical body and is cold and indifferent, belongs to the colossal giant that hangs high in the sky, not to the weak mortals that walk on the earth."

"Desire is a sweet and intoxicating temptation, while the pursuit of knowledge is a journey to transcend cruelty. How can we make such a hasty definition? The pursuit of knowledge to dispel ignorance is also the 'desire' that flows endlessly in the blood of mankind."

"Can't flesh and blood climb mountains? Why should we abandon everything to pursue that distant, ethereal radiance?"

Upon hearing this, Child raised his head slightly, focusing his gaze on the far horizon, as if looking up at something.

The next moment, he asked the third question.

What exactly does the name 'White Cup' represent?

"This proposition is too vague, and I'm afraid I can't give a definitive answer. However, based on my association and interpretation, 'white cup' should refer to..."

Grantham pondered for a moment, then spoke his mind after a few breaths.

"Crucible".

"Its imagery represents the origin and development of alchemy, medicine making, and casting techniques, and is probably unrelated to some ancient being from the Dust Order era."

Upon receiving this answer, Child breathed a long sigh of relief, feeling almost as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Very well, Grantham, I have verified your qualifications."

As he spoke, he placed his palm on Grantham's forehead, and prayers emitting a pure white glow appeared like ants marching in formation. The vast amount of esoteric knowledge contained in the three Type I rituals flooded into the latter's mind, almost bursting his brain.

This is an incomplete study, which only provides the framework, principles, and operational logic, and there are still many gaps in its understanding.

If that weren't the case, he would probably have died on the spot.

Fran leaned against Luara, observing quietly, seemingly quite interested in the exchange. It not only revealed the origin of the White Cup but also disclosed many secrets about the rise and fall of the Debunkers.

Very good. After returning to the Fog Street Clinic, I can update the section on the White Cup in the "Thousand Teachings Classic".

"call……"

Grantham rubbed his head, which was in excruciating pain, and slowly regulated his breathing.

But the smile in his emerald eyes burned like fire, completely uncontrollable. The more unbearable the physical torment became, the more intense that smile grew.

“Child, don’t call it a gift, it’s more like a ‘transaction’ between us? I can feel you taking something out of my head…”

He squinted, slowly raised his head, and looked at Child in front of him.

"Yes."

Child readily agreed.

"The existing consciousness within my spirit has accumulated too much redundancy and cannot be maintained for long. On the other hand, the newly formed consciousness after the reset is too naive and cannot fully control the body..."

"Therefore, I replicated your existing personality model as a self-disciplined mode for dealing with enemies in an emergency."

〇♂⊥粦▲〗柒陆÷］九1＞偲傘戮索~索△→：——

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complex! live!

Chapter 183 Concealing Form and Shadow

Having read this, Fran understood why Grantham had been so confident in covering the rear for the rest of the Order during the Great Plague.

Child's spirit contains Grantham's consciousness from his youth, and to some extent, he also possesses the ability to revive the White Cup Order. Furthermore... he does not age, nor is he bound by the lifespan of a frail mortal.

In the event of an accident, he would be the ultimate guarantee for the survival of the Order and the Academy.

"This is the dilemma of the elderly. Once they reach this age, they have to find a qualified successor and are easily trapped in pessimism. But there's nothing that can be done about it, since death is imminent for this group."

Fran blinked gently, then lightly stroked Luya's soft, furry back beside him.

"Luya, consume the excess consciousness and reinforce the sealed memories as well. Mr. Child only needs simple maintenance on the hardware level, but the aging of the 'software' requires a deep overhaul with sufficient force."

"Na."

Luya nodded, then puffed out her cheeks and began to chew on the distorted phantoms that lingered throughout the dream scene.

The process of consuming the redundant information in her consciousness lasted for about an hour, until her lower abdomen revealed a beautiful oval shape, at which point she had completely swallowed up all the disordered fragments of information.

"belch."

Luya curled up on the spot, let out a satisfied burp, and then began to close her eyes for a nap.

As she ceased to maintain the stability of the surrounding dreamscape, Fran plummeted from Childe's deepest dream with a profound sense of loss. Meanwhile, the teaching assistant, the "White Cup," who was being treated, was not fully awake, though her expression in her sleeping state had become much more serene.

"The software issue has been resolved. Next, we can update the doll's external configuration. The maintenance experience I just learned from Ms. Tinuville last month is now ready to be put into use..."

Fran pursed his lips, then began installing a self-diagnostic maintenance device on Cai Erde using living metal.

The body currently used by Tinuvel, the ship AI of the Dark Ages, is based on the dolls created by the ancestors of the Pure White Era... Therefore, she is extremely skilled in this aspect of maintenance work and can be described as doing it with ease.

However, this also led to a further depletion of Fran's already dwindling stockpile of living metals.

Unfortunately, all the mechanical components of that previous space necromancer skinner were cursed, and the infection was so potent that it could even affect the user. Without a truly effective cleansing method, it's clear that it cannot be used as raw material…

About an hour later, Fran completed the in-depth maintenance of Child and the replacement of some aging components.

Based on the current condition of this white cup teaching assistant, as long as there is no serious and irreversible physical damage, he will not be troubled by hardware aging for another thousand years.

Of course, this time represents the theoretical maintenance cycle.

Strictly speaking, once Child obtained mechanical components made of living metal, he had almost completely overcome the aging problem. However, drawing such a conclusion directly would violate the spirit of rigorous experimentation; further long-term observation and specific analysis based on actual conditions are still needed.

After finishing his work, Fran pushed open the door and walked out of the reception room. Sister Heda had been waiting for some time in the inner passageway next door.

It could be seen that her gaze was fixed on the porthole, staring at the silent, surging darkness of the Sea of ​​Souls.

"Is the treatment complete, Dr. Fran?"

"Yes. Mr. Child's condition is not serious, but the treatment method is rather special compared to ordinary people."

Fran nodded slightly in agreement.

For patients with flesh and blood, the standard medical procedure is to "analyze the condition, find the lesion, and treat it."

The task of dealing with Child was to "stabilize the framework, clean up memory, and repair hardware and software." ∴$§

To become a doctor in the Fog City, one must not only be proficient in the art of flesh and blood, but also possess a great deal of knowledge in the field of mechanics... so that one will not be helpless when faced with special patients.

Sigh, jobs are getting harder and harder these days. As a doctor, I also have to work part-time as a mechanic, programmer, and even a loader/unloader of mechanical components from time to time.

“Dr. Fran, it will take us another day to get back to Gormouth. But the situation there is quite urgent. According to Whitecup’s intelligence, Vanfna Street has completely fallen… I wonder if the Noralia family can hold out until reinforcements arrive?”

Haida was slightly worried about this.

Fran seemed quite confident about this, as if he had already considered this issue.

“The Moonkin are a race born of the night, naturally adept at hiding and lying dormant. Besides, Marquis Jude is still alive... their family will not be wiped out, at least not for the time being.”

"In addition, I have prepared some small measures in Mordway. They should be able to help the Noralia family buy some time."

Upon hearing the doctor's answer, Haida lowered her eyelashes slightly, indicating that she understood.