The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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"Miss Fran, did you receive this gown from my mother? Was she still alive then, or had she already been buried?"

Once the weakness subsided slightly, Dorothy asked Fran, who was beside her, about it.

"neither."

The doctor gently shook his index finger, denying her guess.

“I did not see Flame Rose Lamp, nor did I obtain this garment from her. Since you have already seen your future self in Norrington in your dream, I have no need to hide this from you. The Lantern Moth Gauze Robe you are wearing comes from her.”

"……How can this be?"

Dorothy's pupils contracted sharply, her heterochromatic black and green eyes filled with uncontrollable astonishment.

Fran's account proves that she saw what she dreamed of, but it was clearly an illusion that had not yet happened, so how could she possibly take away a real object from it?

"It shouldn't be hard to understand, right? This gauze robe originates from a future in Norrington, just as you originate from the past that Flame Rose took from herself. As long as the method is appropriate, historical moments that have occurred and those that haven't can be trodden upon."

She watched Dorothy's astonishment with great interest, like a researcher observing the state of an experimental subject.

There was a long silence.

Once her racing thoughts had calmed down a bit, Dorothy removed the moth-shaped gauze robe she was wearing and returned it to Fran. She didn't dwell on the robe's origins but instead focused her attention on something else.

"So, the vision I just saw in my dream wasn't a revelation woven from inspiration, but the real future?"

"Correct."

Fran nodded slightly, confirming her statement.

This further exacerbated the fear and bewilderment lurking in Dorothy's heart.

"So was all of this destined to happen? What exactly was the natural disaster that Norrington suffered, and is there any way to reverse it? Please forgive my abrupt question... but I desperately want the answers."

Fran did not refuse, but simply handed her a cup of winter bud tea, indicating that she should be patient.

"Is everything in the future predetermined? Sister Heda asked you the same question, though she was in slightly better spirits then. After all, swordsmen never believe in ethereal things; they rely solely on the blade in their hands."

And I will give the same answer again.

"Fate and the future are in a state of endless flux, and every possibility will lead history in a different direction. Those who advocate fatalism are merely subservient to reality; never be afraid of change."

Her voice was clear and steady, carrying a calming quality that soothed the soul.

Like a gentle older sister holding an old book of fairy tales, sitting peacefully by the bedside, telling the stories in a slow and gentle voice.

“Dorothy, the future you foresaw in your dream divination stems from another historical trend, the point of divergence being the great plague twenty years ago. The path we are on represents the completion of the fight against the plague, as for the outcome of failure… you have already witnessed it.”

"Just like the upright and reversed positions in Tarot, the two opposing sides of a coin."

Hearing Fran's account, Dorothy's tense nerves finally eased slightly.

"Thank you for your answer, Ms. Fran."

Out of some instinct, she used honorifics at that moment.

Dorothy, who had been standing up, seemed to have all her strength drained away, and collapsed back onto the gray velvet bed. Her usually carefree nature was almost crushed by the heavy scene she had just witnessed.

Especially the funeral chief in the church at the Hunter's headquarters, holding his own head in one hand... even now, thinking back on it sends chills down my spine.

What can I do about a disaster that could cause the chief hunter to perish and be reduced to ashes?

Seeing that Dorothy had finally relaxed completely, Fran put away the book in his hand and slowly walked to her side.

"Speaking of which, Miss Dorothy has some minor health issues, and in fact, most mirror wipers have similar conditions. The worship of the radiance weakens human instincts, with appetite being the most obvious example."

"Lack of calcium intake, prolonged sitting, and poor posture... these can easily lead to lumbar muscle strain and cervical spine problems. Now is the perfect time; I think you might need a free physical therapy session?"

The doctor had mentioned this to Tong En when they first met, and now she finally had the opportunity to deal with it in detail.

Upon hearing this, Dorothy narrowed her eyes slightly, a strange sense of unease rising within her.

Although she really wanted to decline, she eventually agreed after some hesitation, out of a strange sense of closeness.

"Then I'm sorry to trouble you."

After receiving permission, Fran began cleansing the surroundings, then placed his hands on Dorothy's shoulders and neck, rhythmically pressing against the skin and muscles of her vertebrae and shoulders.

She controlled her strength with great precision, like a seasoned master kneading dough with decades of experience.

As a highly self-disciplined and virtually impeccable general practitioner, in addition to all clinical medical disciplines, she also has expertise in pharmacy, anesthesiology, forensic medicine, psychology, veterinary medicine, and more.

She would even occasionally act as a physiotherapist, oh, she often practiced this skill on Sister Heda who had just finished her training.

The fingertips and palms are in close contact with the skin, bringing a warm and soft touch.

The feeling of comfort surged like a tide, and Dorothy squinted her eyes tenderly.

Her breathing was slightly rapid, and she gently bit her lip, suppressing the urge to make a sound. Although it was only their first physical contact, the other person seemed to know everything about the deep-seated ailment hidden beneath her skin.

Fran also confirmed his guess through this process.

As expected, the Flame Rose Lamp buried the relics and prayers that stabilized Dorothy's existence into her body.

This explains why Dorothy, who suffered a mental breakdown in Norrington, disintegrated from the inside out into pure incandescence. And this relic is precisely the one Dorothy used to defeat the Nightmare Guest: [S-066. Faded to Pure White].

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Perfect attendance in October, time to start chasing!

Chapter Ten: Night Crows in the Rain

As the moon sets in late autumn, the rain continues unabated.

Norrington's rainy season is always like this; once it begins, it doesn't stop until winter truly arrives. There may be three or five days of sunshine, but these are merely temporary pauses in the middle of the piece. The pattering sound of the tide is ultimately the dominant melody of this season.

"Gah!"

Mu Ning, perched on Vivian's shoulder, gently flapped its wings and let out a soft cry.

It doesn't dislike the dampness brought by rain; on the contrary, the rain can conceal its form and sound, which is extremely beneficial for carrying out surveillance and tracking work. Besides, dark clouds and gloomy rain often harbor a sense of decay and death…

This will cause the crow, a classic harbinger of doom, to be inexplicably excited.

"Behave yourself. When we get to the vicinity of the house where the police report is being filed, don't make too much noise."

Vivian, who was holding a black umbrella, took out a portable plastic package from the chest pocket of her agent's trench coat, then took out a piece of fresh meat and fed it to Mu Ning, hoping to calm it down.

Raising its neck to swallow the piece of meat, Mu Ning rolled its black pearl-like eyes, seemingly still wanting more. However, it immediately folded its wings and became quite obedient and quiet, like a small and exquisite black stone statue.

The person who filed the report resides at No. 09 North Street, Moonbury Street.

The task report issued by the Confidential Court detailed his identity and life experience. Dwyer Cousins, a workshop worker at Loys Marine Machinery Co., Ltd. In his thirties, with a moderate income, some professional experience, and no particular vices.

His father passed away from illness twenty years ago, his mother is still alive but in poor health, and he also has a younger brother who is studying at an art school.

This is a rather ordinary, unremarkable resume.

According to the general regulations of the Hunters of Mysteries Order, such reports can be directly handled by the police station under the city hall. Although it may be inefficient, in recent years, there have been many truly capable detectives who have risen to the rank, and at least solving ordinary cases that do not involve the mysterious is not a problem.

However, Dwyer's father was a well-known medical worker who participated in emergency aid when the Great Plague Medical Court was short-staffed, so his family enjoyed special treatment from the Order of the Hunters to some extent.

A moment later, Vivian found an observation point on the rooftop of a low building next door.

Bolton Street in September is known as an affordable neighborhood, with many designs prioritizing cost savings. As a result, adjacent buildings are quite close together, and you can easily climb to the other side with a simple ladder.

4. Even now, Vivian can easily leap into the window of the apartment where the person reporting the crime lives.

8. With Sister Heda not around, I always have a strange sense of unease, even though I often conduct reconnaissance alone before...

2. Vivian sighed softly, seemingly trying to get back used to carrying out tasks alone.

4. Compared to the unremarkable complainants, the problems on Moonburton Street itself are more concerning. Due to its proximity to the northern suburbs, the area is less heavily monitored than the main urban area, leading to a variety of bizarre and inexplicable incidents.

3. For example, several years ago there was a murderer who was keen on killing women living alone, known to outsiders as "the ghost of Moonburton". The funeral home was about to find him by following the clues, but he suddenly vanished without a trace.

3. There have been many similar bizarre cases over the years, to the point that in recent years, some areas of Moonburton Street have almost become the source of material for collections of supernatural tales, and strange rumors, whether true or false, often circulate.

Slightly gathering her wandering thoughts, Vivian picked up a monocular telescope and placed it before her eyes, officially beginning her surveillance of Dwyer's residence. She simultaneously closed her other eye, sharing Munin's perspective to maintain a multi-directional, multi-angle overview.

5 Soon, a hunter will come to the complainant to ask for details; all you have to do until then is wait.

One person appears in the light, while the other remains hidden in the shadows—this is an old tradition for hunters on missions. Sister Heda used the same setup when she visited Lady Solani at the detached villa at No. 09 Red Pheasant Street, which strangely evokes a sense of nostalgia.

About thirty minutes later, a somewhat naive-looking funeral maid knocked on Dwyer's door.

Vivian had some impression of her.

That was Eve, a newcomer from the previous reserve team.

She was born in Dallin Town and trained under Instructor Naor. She performed well in shooting, weaponry, and unarmed combat, but lacked some talent in esoteric arts. She was also a bit dull and prone to getting stuck on things.

The following sentence is Instructor Naor's evaluation, which is written in the reserve officer's graduation file.

"Dong dong."

After knocking, Ift stood quietly to the side and waited.

A middle-aged man opened the door, wearing a blue overall. Although it wasn't stained, there was still a faint smell of machine oil and metal shavings. He seemed to have just finished his shift at the factory.

Without a doubt, he was Dwyer.

Ift quickly sized up the person in front of her, and based on what she had learned in her criminal investigation course, she had already formed some judgments.

Dwyer should have arrived home in no more than ten minutes, or even just as he stepped through the door.

His work pants were rolled up at the ankles, and traces of rainwater were still visible on his shirt. His muddy rubber boots lay untouched beside him. No matter how tiring a day's work may be, one should change into more comfortable clothes before resting at home.

Thinking of this, Ifrit's final emotion was not doubt, but sympathy.

It's 10 p.m. right now, and the company Dwyer works for officially states that the end of the workday is 6 p.m. But he's only just gotten home... Subtracting the 40-minute commute from Sandrank to Moonburton, he's been working overtime for at least three hours.

“Excuse me, Mr. Dwyer. The Order has accepted your report, and we would appreciate it if you could provide more details.”

"Ah... okay, please come in."

Dwyer had heavy, dark circles under his eyes, and he always seemed a beat slow when talking to people. However, this is a common appearance after strenuous work, so it's not considered abnormal.

The interior of the room was somewhat old, with unprocessed clutter on the floor and a small fire burning on the kitchen stove, cooking something that smelled like some kind of noodles.

The entire interior environment can be described as messy.

However, for a tired middle-aged man who is nearly forty, still unmarried, and has to take care of his mother and younger brother, it is relatively tidy... At least there are no wine bottles or cigarette butts on the floor, and no dirty dishes with flies flying in the kitchen sink.

After a somewhat clumsy preparation, Dwyer brought a cup of ginger tea and placed it on the table in front of Ift.

“I’m so sorry to have troubled you to make this trip. It wasn’t really a big deal… My good-for-nothing brother has been staying out all night at the pubs in the North District lately, claiming he’s ‘looking for inspiration,’ and his behavior is a bit strange.”

"So, this morning I sent an anomaly report to the nearest contact point for the Hunters. I was originally planning to take him to the nearby church after get off work, but I got off work quite late today... so I thought I'd ask for leave first and go tomorrow."

"Now that you're here, please take a look at my younger brother's condition."

The Hunters' Order's response level varies depending on the reported information. In cases of clear eyewitness accounts of evil offspring, the General Affairs Committee will dispatch personnel as quickly as possible to carry out purging and eradication. However, if the residents' descriptions are ambiguous, a thorough questioning will be arranged.

Just like it is now.

After briefly explaining the situation, Dwyer suddenly clapped his hands, his expression becoming somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh, look at me, my mind isn't very sharp when I think about my brother, I can't even remember the most basic etiquette... How should I address you?"

"Just call me Ife."

Ift maintained her official tone with a stern expression, though she also consciously controlled her facial expressions, trying to appear less aloof. Most funeral hunters easily give off an impression of being unapproachable.

But it can't be entirely their fault. After all, anyone who has undergone several years of devilish training under Instructor Naor would probably find it hard to smile easily afterwards.

Led by Dwyer, Ifrit quickly crossed the living room and arrived at her brother's bedroom.

"Lenomon, I need to talk to you about something. Don't stay in your room all day."

"Also, eat dinner while you're at it. You've only eaten breakfast all day, how can that be? Don't let your health collapse before you even get into Norlington College of Art, and then I'll have to pay for your medical bills."

He knocked on the door repeatedly and forcefully, as if he wouldn't give up until he got rid of the person.

After a brief silence, a lazy voice, tinged with impatience, rang out.

"Okay, stop knocking, I'll be right out."

After saying that, Lenormont pushed open the bedroom door and came out.

He was a pale-skinned young man, thin and with clearly visible knuckles on his fingers. He had the unkempt air of an artist, and his clothes were stained with some still-wet oil paint.

He seemed to think that only his brother was outside, so when he saw Ift dressed in the armor of a funeral maid, he was slightly taken aback and shrank back, quite introverted.

Taking advantage of this moment, Ifrit also peeked into Lenormont's bedroom through the half-open door.

The room was filled with oil paintings covered with canvases, as well as impromptu charcoal sketches piled up haphazardly, and even the bed was scattered with drawing papers. Presumably due to financial reasons, he couldn't afford to buy a separate studio, so he could only transform his living room into this.