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Fran quickly used Soul Shaping to extract Victor's soul essence and, based on his experience, performed Epileptic Fire Therapy on the deep-seated dark wounds.
The scene was filled with blazing light and pervasive heat, making it appear exceptionally brutal and terrifying.
But in reality, her technique was quite precise, with almost no flaws in terms of power control.
The deep yellow, chaotic flames themselves represent the pure chaos that destroys all spirits and tangible things... Any mistake could directly burn Viktor into a severe Alzheimer's patient, or even directly extinguish his spirit.
When it was all over, Victor had returned to human form and collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, every sense seemingly rejoicing at his survival.
Even with the high priest's control over his body, he still couldn't control his loss of composure. As the flames approached his soul, all his premonitions and intuition were severed, leaving only the thought of "death."
Like having your head stuck in a meat grinder to remove a tiny tumor from your face, his survival is undoubtedly a miracle.
But for the doctor in front of him, this level of "miracle" seemed replicable, mass-producible, and effortless. The lesions were removed in an instant, the whole process smooth and natural, as if perfection was within reach.
“Your treatment is complete, and our doctor-patient relationship has come to an end. I will arrange follow-up appointments if any other symptoms appear. The address is 02 Greenwood Street, West Norlington, the Mirror of Enlightenment Club.”
"You can make an appointment with Ms. Tong En."
As soon as he finished speaking, Fran, dressed in a white coat, disappeared into the streets and alleys along with the thin night fog.
-
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soup!
(My grandfather passed away the day before yesterday. I handled his funeral arrangements, wore mourning clothes, and kept vigil for three days, working through the night. I am utterly exhausted and have no energy left to continue writing. My statement about working full hours at the beginning of the month was not a flippant remark. I hope you all understand. I am deeply grateful.)
Chapter 205 The Finale of the Abyss
After finishing the tasks related to the Ant Scale Gate, Fran took out a brass pocket watch from his sleeve and glanced at the time.
At 24:20, although it was late at night, it wasn't too late for this doctor who was used to being a night owl.
Just as she was about to knock on the door through the fog and return to the clinic, she suddenly stopped and paused what she was doing.
Detricia and Lauris also absorbed a certain amount of Abyssal Essence in the Bonestone Sanctuary, resulting in atavistic symptoms resembling those of apes. While not severe, they were in a rush to get some sleep and apparently didn't take any action to address it…
"Fine, it's all fieldwork anyway, it's just a matter of working a little overtime, let's go check it out together."
After a moment's thought, Fran stepped through an abandoned door in the dark alley into the Fog Path, and then headed toward Oak Shadow Nest.
With the remnants of Munin's feathers and a few traces of the Mist of the Door remaining on Detrick, locating the little guy was a piece of cake for her.
In a makeshift shelter near the oak grove, Detricka, wrapped in a leather overcoat, suddenly tilted her head back and sneezed.
“Strange… The weather in Mordway isn’t even getting cool yet, so he shouldn’t be catching a cold.”
She was trying to fall asleep, but found it very difficult.
Due to the lingering atavistic symptoms, Detricka's appearance is somewhat unsightly. While she doesn't yet exhibit obvious ape-like features, the thin layer of black fur covering her skin is rather unattractive.
The High Priestess of the Remains has promised to find a cure for her and Lauris, but this is ultimately due to the influence of the Abyssal Spirit Essence, and it is difficult to find a suitable cure in a short period of time.
And whenever the night grew quiet, Detrick would find it hard to stop thinking about Ms. Vivian.
Whether it's a difficult or complicated disease, a chronic illness, or a perplexing mystery, it seems to be solved immediately in her hands.
Like peeling back layers of silk, clean and efficient.
Ms. Vivian's whereabouts are currently unknown, and if I want to contact her... it seems that the only way is through dreams.
Thinking of this, Detricka inexplicably recalled the white glass deer with translucent antlers on its forehead, and the hoof that the deer had imprinted heavily on her forehead.
Despite being kicked, Detricka was not afraid of the doe from her dream.
She could sense that the other person was doing this more to deepen her dream state and further awaken her will to survive.
Detrica is currently undecided about whether to seek Ms. Vivian's help.
As an informant and subordinate, if you have to seek help from your employer for everything, it makes you seem useless... lacking the ability and awareness to solve problems independently.
Oh, although that seems to be the reality.
But to express it so openly and without any pretense was somewhat hurtful to her self-esteem... If possible, she would try her best to demonstrate the value and professionalism expected of an intelligence officer.
Just then, Detricka faintly smelled a cool, damp scent entering her nostrils.
Although it didn't trigger any spiritual awareness, what did the increasingly dense, even solidifying, fog signify? Dawn was still far off, and there had been absolutely no sign of fog or rain in recent days.
This was clearly a harbinger of Ms. Vivian's arrival.
Good night, I hope I haven't disturbed your rest, Detricka.
After the routine evening greetings, Fran approached Detrick slowly. He then gently touched the tear trough under her lower eyelid with his thumb.
You can vaguely see the slightly bluish circles under her eyes, which means she probably didn't get enough rest yesterday.
Well... even setting aside the differences caused by gender, any ordinary person would have difficulty falling asleep normally if hair grew on areas of their body that shouldn't be covered.
Not to mention other more obvious ape-like features such as finger-like toes, elongated upper limbs, and shortened lower limbs.
"I think you and your senior might need some help right now."
Fran withdrew his hands and placed them behind his back, a warm smile gradually spreading across his lips.
In most cases, Fran maintains only limited goodwill towards ordinary people who are unrelated to her. She doesn't mind offering a helping hand, nor does she mind remaining uninvolved; her decisions depend entirely on her mood at that moment.
Of course, if the other party is willing to offer a sufficiently attractive price for the transaction, then that's another story.
Detrica's atavistic condition is somewhat related to Fran; as an "informant," she is nominally his subordinate. Having contracted the condition through her work, the doctor has always been happy to provide free medical services, incidentally enriching his clinical case data.
"Ms. Vivian!"
In her haste, Detrika could not hide her delight.
"Shhh."
Fran put his index finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet.
This is a temporary settlement built by the Six-Eyed Raven Order for the raiders, located in the courtyard of a secluded sanctuary. Although Detricka has her own private residence, there are other believers in the surrounding rooms as well.
Considering that most of the courtyards chosen by the raiders as their habitat were in a state of disrepair, even after some repairs, the soundproofing here was extremely poor.
Making too much noise would disturb others' rest, or it might attract unwanted attention.
"There are some differences between atavism and skeletalization at the pathological level, but the pathogens are both pyrolytic agents. Therefore, I have made some modifications to the formula of the 'inhaled compound aphid extract'. According to the clinical data we have so far, it can be cured in one or two courses of treatment."
As he spoke, Fran took out two cylindrical metal cans and handed them to Detricka. (The remaining text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated gibberish.)
"This is a portable version of the nebulizer, with a dosage that can theoretically support three courses of treatment for a single individual. It comes with two simple breathing masks; simply wear them and inhale evenly. Take it once a day for 15-20 minutes each time."
"By the way, remember to stop taking the medication immediately after the atavistic symptoms disappear. Aphidin can be highly lethal once the intake threshold is exceeded, and even by my standards, it is a prescription drug that needs to be regulated."
After giving a few words of advice, Fran raised his hand to cover his lips and yawned lazily.
"Thank you for your help, Ms. Vivian. I will follow your advice."
Derica tried her best to remember the medication guidelines that Fran had just mentioned, not daring to miss a single detail.
If the doctor in front of you says that a certain drug has serious side effects, then it is best to follow the doctor's advice with reverence... otherwise the consequences may be unimaginable.
Seeing the young thief carefully holding the two jars of medicine and clearly listening attentively to his instructions on how to use them, Fran withdrew his gaze with satisfaction.
Although most of her patients are fairly mentally sound, routine reminders are still essential. In her early years, she had encountered people who were reluctant to seek medical help, stubborn, and prone to ignoring the doctor's advice.
Although the prescription says to take a maximum of three pills a day, would taking five pills help me recover faster? I feel my condition has stabilized and I don't have any other discomfort, so should I stop taking the medication this month? Will the medication you prescribed be harmful to my body? I feel that the folk remedies my neighbor's grandmother uses are very effective…
Given such complexities, Fran was always careful when instructing his patients.
That being said, Fran didn't actually care about the possibility of medical malpractice; everything she did stemmed from her perfectionist standards and professional ethics.
"By the way, Dejiu∷ˇ私ˉ£罢∝{尓≌<肆参钐℃×刢≤ ̄五刺◆∵蝟曺?代购:翠卡,There's something I need to tell you first. I'll be setting off back to Norrington tomorrow."
"However, if you are interested, we can still maintain our employment relationship... If I want to make a deal with the Six-Eyed Raven Cult later, I will contact you through a dream, so you'd better carry a pillow with you when you go out."
When Ms. Vivian mentioned that she was leaving, Detrica was taken aback.
That makes sense. She originally came from Norrington aboard the White Cup Order's Leviathan, and this trip was probably specifically for the Star Abyss Society and the Abyss Corpse. Now that everything has settled down, there's naturally no reason for her to linger any longer.
As the doctor beside her spoke of potential future collaborations, a flicker of excitement returned to Detrick's expression.
Often, high-ranking, clandestine figures will use intermediaries to contact other cults. This could be to mitigate risk, or simply because they are too busy to deal with trivial matters…
But none of that mattered to Detricka.
As long as you can maintain your "informant" status, it's undoubtedly a good thing.
Foy, Mordway, and probably the whole of Golmouth could not find an employer who treated his subordinates better than Ms. Vivian.
Although Detrick had received a substantial reward for the information she had provided, once the economic predicament was alleviated, a higher-level need naturally emerged... namely, the pursuit of ancient life and the hidden staircase.
Perhaps they are a little greedy, but greed is never a negative quality for the plunderers of the Six-Eyed Raven.
"Thank you for your favor and kindness. I will do my best to fulfill your request, Ms. Vivian."
At the Bonestone Sanctuary, Derica had said she was "willing to give anything" to ask Ms. Vivian to heal her senior, Lauris, but when faced with further questioning, she hesitated. In comparison, she seemed to have acted too frivolously.
Until she died, the reckless words she uttered back then still echoed in her mind, causing her to feel an indescribable shame.
After leaving the Star Abyss Academy, she questioned herself more than once what she really wanted.
A comfortable life, a pleasant environment, no longer having to struggle for survival in the mire of the Abyss Kingdom, no longer having to cower in a dilapidated hut worrying about tomorrow... this was once Detricka's highest pursuit.
Leaving aside the gems and crescent coins obtained from Prince Gunther's hidden mansion, the 300 Norrington silver and the wolf-head gold coin that Lady Vivian initially gave me were almost enough to meet the aforementioned needs. Moreover, she had saved me from near death when the Tidecallers invaded Oak Shadow Nest.
Detrika had nothing and a lowly status; all she could offer was loyalty.
She had thought it through thoroughly and no longer hesitated.
If she were to return to the Bonestone Sanctuary from last night, and were to face Ms. Vivian's question about whether she was willing to give her life, she would answer with an affirmative answer without hesitation.
-
Foggy Street Clinic.
After walking through the slightly cool, gray-white misty path, Fran pushed open the wooden door of the clinic and then sat down leisurely on the velvet sofa in the main hall.
With most of his to-do list in Gormouth settled, this rather high-profile, publicly funded vacation is now coming to an end...
Speaking of which, the way the child looked at Detricka when she was leaving suggested that she had made up her mind about something.
To be honest, this is not a good thing.
A little girl like her, lacking presence, is most likely to survive by remaining in a state of initial sensitivity, hesitation, confusion, and drifting with the tide. Once she strengthens her resolve, she is more likely to lose her life in a moment of reckless courage.
Judging from the thief's background, past, and style of doing things, she undoubtedly belongs to the type who lacks love and attention. Her mother was a low-class prostitute, and her father was an unknown patron; anywhere, this would be an undeniably hellish start.
For this reason, Fran didn't mind giving a little preferential treatment in terms of wages.
It's like providing a little water and nutrients to a seedling that's about to die; how far it can grow or what kind of fruit it will bear is not within her consideration.
It was all just something I did on a whim, driven by interest.
“You’re back, Dr. Fran.”
Sitting upright to the side, Shitia put down the book in her hand and looked calmly at Fran.
Night had fallen, and given Sister Heda's regular and healthy sleep schedule, she was presumably asleep by now, as were Sigrid and Vivian. Only this noblewoman from Heil, who didn't seem to need much sleep, remained in the clinic's main hall.
"What are you looking at, Ms. Shitia?"
Fran raised an eyebrow, noticing the manuscript in her hand with its curled edges and numerous revision marks.
Upon hearing this, Xitia sat down next to Fran and then handed her the notebook in her hand.
"This is a notebook written by Mr. Zoparos, titled 'Zopalos Larui's In-Depth Research Notes - The Grand Destruction of the Shattered Dust Order.' It contains documents, allegories, and metaphors from the end of the Era of Decay."
"It focuses on describing his own theories and speculations in detail, thoroughly, and with the practical spirit of a realist."
Fran took the notebook and began to flip through it with his fingertips.
“Mr. Zoparos is indeed one of the most talented cryptanalysts since the beginning of the millennium. Even I sometimes refer to his works.”
At this point, she recalled Zoparros's "Raven Research Notes".
This guy realized his notes might have been tampered with after reaching the end and then refused to write anything further, which was really frustrating. Fran even suspected he never intended to finish writing and was just looking for an excuse to stop...
Fran pursed his lips, and after gathering his thoughts, began to study the classic text in his hands.
According to ancient texts, the reality we inhabit, the "material world," is structurally shallow. It is more commonly known as the "skin" or "noon." We exist, reproduce, release desires, seek tranquility, bask in light, and embrace darkness within it.
According to the secret history "The First Calamity," before the dust settled into ashes, the deeper realm lay hidden in dreams, beneath the surface. Its boundary with reality was both blurred and clear, chaotic yet orderly, elusive yet undeniably present.
The old order of history crumbled and collapsed with the arrival of the First Calamity; it was an irreversible decline, impossible to trace back.
The colossal structure of the Pure White Era collapsed in the red rain of the Second Calamity; it was a destiny woven and drawn by those who hung high above the heavens.
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