The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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"Oh, I'm so sorry, Sister, my room hasn't been cleaned... I apologize for the mess."

As he said this, Lenormont looked at Dwyer with a hint of displeasure, as if blaming him for bringing the man into the house without warning, leaving him completely unprepared.

“无九［※er∈san刢◆〃捂搜索ˇ:妨。

Ift waved her hand, not caring about it.

“Mr. Lenomon, although this may be a bit presumptuous, please allow me to take a look into your bedroom. It is my duty.”

"They're just paintings that aren't appreciated by most people. Sister, feel free to look at them if you want."

Lenormon seemed a little embarrassed when a woman wanted to look into his room, but he cooperated quite readily and didn't refuse. This was typical of most men in their twenties.

Eft did not sense any unusual aura or spiritual flow from him.

However, she did not let her guard down.

Instructor Naor once said that seven or eight out of ten routine patrols by the Mystics Hunters would be in vain, and most of the residents' reports had nothing to do with mystical factors. Perhaps they were just under too much psychological pressure, causing them to mistake ordinary noises for some kind of danger.

But if you let your guard down even once, that could be the one that kills you.

And if you really encounter this situation, even if you are on your toes the whole time... you may not survive.

In addition to the artworks hanging on easels, the room also contains a variety of picture books.

Portraits, architecture, scenery, and flowers, birds, fish, and insects.

Ift was almost completely ignorant of art appreciation and unable to assess the quality of these paintings. However, in her opinion, Lenormont's use of color was bold and innovative, giving a refreshing feeling.

Upon inspection, his bedroom-cum-studio contained no spiritual materials, nor any prayers forming a ritual array. Everything there was exactly what a young art student should look like, including the unidentified crumpled pieces of paper in the bedside trash can.

"Mr. Lenormont, may we remove the white cloth covering the easel?"

In the end, only three easels remained unchecked in the bedroom.

Eve turned to the side and asked Lenor Qimeng beside her. Even while checking the room, she tried her best to keep the two of them within her sight, without missing a single moment.

Lenormon nodded, indicating his agreement.

"Yes, these two paintings are almost dry. Covering them with a cloth is just to help preserve them and prevent small insects from getting stuck on them. The last easel is empty, and we covered it with a cloth to prevent paint splattering."

After receiving permission, Eve nodded slightly and lifted the white cloth covering the three easels.

You can see two exquisitely drawn portraits and a blank canvas. The first is of Lenormont himself, and the second is of Dwyer.

"Because it's really hard to find models, sometimes I'll draw myself in front of a mirror, or I'll have my brother temporarily act as a model. The more familiar I am with the person, the better I can do in terms of details."

The young painter scratched his head and began to explain.

After confirming that there was nothing unusual in the bedroom, Ifrit returned to the living room and began questioning Dwyer about the specific reasons for reporting the incident. Meanwhile, Lenomon brought out some cooked pasta from the kitchen and ate while listening in.

She had hoped to get some valuable information from the brothers, but Dwyer just started complaining.

He started by talking about his difficult work, his mother's serious illness, his failed business venture, and his troubled love life. It wasn't until Eve deliberately guided him that Dwyer gradually shifted the topic to Lenormont's recent unusual behavior.

For example, this young painter often stayed out all night, reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume, and his mental state became increasingly erratic. During the day, he was absent-minded like a drowned ghost, often locking himself in his room, yet always appearing and disappearing mysteriously…

Having witnessed the chaos and tragedy caused by heretics, Dwyer was worried that his younger brother might have been influenced by something outside.

Lenormon immediately offered an explanation.

In fact, he just wanted to ease the financial burden on his hardworking brother. That's why he would often sneak out to the Mandala Tavern late at night, either to sell sketches or to play simple tunes for the guests to earn tips.

Having said that, he took out a wallet full of loose banknotes and handed it to Dwyer.

"Lenomon, you should focus on your studies at your age. It's just that your older brother isn't capable enough to let you fully pursue your dreams..."

“Brother, Mother’s health has been poor ever since Father passed away. She lives in a nursing home and needs money every month. You’ve been taking care of me since I was little, and I’ve always wanted to do something for you.”

Watching the two brothers, who had initially held grudges against each other, gradually put aside their differences and begin to sit side by side, sharing their innermost thoughts... Ift's eyes twitched slightly, and her lips pursed almost imperceptibly.

It's hard to imagine that my first official mission would be because of something like this; it's almost a surreal, realistic experience.

After briefly advising Dwyer to have more concrete evidence before reporting a case in the future, Ift put away the written record and task report, and left his residence without any hesitation.

……

Almost the instant the door closed again, Lenormont stopped shoveling pasta into his mouth.

Dwyer, who was beside him, also fell silent, and the entire living room fell into a deathly silence.

The young painter hurried back to his bedroom, his gaze falling on the three canvases that had been uncovered.

In the painting, both he and Dwyer have distorted and disordered faces, with upturned eyes, twisted joints, and limbs and facial features that are gradually deformed and swollen, as if watercolor paint has been forcibly spread... or as a decaying and bloated corpse.

The only constant was the deep-seated fear and horror etched into their expressions.

Quietly, the last blank white canvas began to outline the curves of a woman's body. First, her beautiful, unclothed form was depicted, then her features were adorned, her long hair was added, and she wore a leather nun's robe.

In just a few breaths, one could vaguely make out Ifrit's features.

-

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soup!

Chapter Eleven Ink Staining

Ift walked steadily through the alleyways of Moonburn Street, preparing to return to headquarters to deliver the mission report.

She wondered if Ba had accidentally stepped in some kind of oil stain while at De Wilder's residence, because she always felt a very faint oily smell on her. It was like the smell of evaporating and solidifying lipids.

Although nothing happened is good news in every respect, it was still a little frustrating that she had gone out on a special mission late at night only to end up watching a family sitcom about brothers reconciling.

The newly recruited hunters were not immune to bloodshed and death during their preparatory period; however, aside from what they were taught in their studies, they lacked experience and practical skills. Young, fresh blood is always like this, yearning to climb higher and accomplish what their predecessors had not.

This isn't a bad thing.

Every organization or institution needs energetic, dynamic, and even ambitious successors; otherwise, it will eventually stagnate and become a stagnant pool of filth.

tread.

Suddenly, Eve stopped in her tracks, faintly smelling the wind carrying the scent of feathers as it passed by her ears.

The next moment, a raven, its plumage as black as silk, flew down from the edge of the rooftop and landed steadily on her shoulder. Scattered black feathers veiled the dim streetlights, and Vivian's figure emerged from Mu Ning's elongated shadow.

The feeling of flapping wings high in the sky is indeed mesmerizing, and it's no wonder that Lady Silverfeather Hydra is so keen on going through windows after mastering [Raven Incarnation].

Normally, the human body and spirit cannot traverse the depths of shadow, but insects, birds, snakes, and pythons blessed by the night may be able to. The principle behind the raven incarnation is to allow the caster to share the will of the calling bird with the bird's body, thereby enjoying this special exemption.

During this process, the caster's original body will be concealed in the shadows. As long as the arcane spell is active, the body will not be torn apart and swallowed by the surging darkness of the shadow realm.

"you are……"

Ife looked at Vivian who had suddenly appeared behind her and instinctively reached for the wooden handle of the folding knife at her waist, but stopped her ready-to-fight action after seeing the person's face.

"Agent Vivian?"

"Ah."

Vivian peeked out of the window of Dwyer's residence, and only after confirming that it was a blind spot obscured by the street wall did she respond to the funeral maid in front of her.

"Has something unusual happened? Or is there an emergency mobilization at the funeral home?"

Suppressing her excitement, Ifrit asked the person in front of her a question.

The nun's tone was respectful yet contained a hint of eagerness. If Vivian weren't close in age to her, she would have even wanted to address this Secret Service agent, whose resume was impressive and whose experiences were quite legendary, with a title such as "Madam."

To be able to travel to Gormouth with that Director Haida and an unknown ordinary team doctor, triggering a dramatic change that almost altered the entire secret society structure of the Abyss Kingdom... Agent Vivian must be an extremely capable senior.

Incidentally, Ifrit was a devoted follower of Sister Heda.

"Sister Ifrit, confirm the secret order for this trip. Pre-determined secret order: Kakule."

Vivian didn't answer her question, but instead began approving the secret order in an almost curt tone, quietly releasing the safety from the standard-issue pistol in her sleeve. As for Mu Ning, who had already deactivated his [Raven Avatar] state and returned to his original size, he was nowhere to be found.

Ift seemed quite comfortable with the coldness and seriousness of the person in front of her.

She quickly stood up straight and clearly and concisely stated the secret orders she held for this mission, maintaining the excellent obedience that funeral maids always displayed.

"In response to the secret order; Cat's Claw Grass."

In this guy's mindset and assumptions, any senior agent who could be grouped with Sister Heda must have a similar style of doing things.

"Yes."

Vivian nodded slightly upon hearing this, but did not breathe a sigh of relief.

Sister Eve's mind is still clear, but why is she unaware of the changes within herself? Is this perception blocked, or has some aspect of her essence been completely replaced?

"Describe your findings upon entering Dwyer's residence, as quickly as possible."

Vivian pursed her lips, a hint of urgency in her voice.

Although the two were not subordinate to each other in principle or in name, Eve had sensed something unusual from Vivian's tone and thus briefly recounted her experience.

"It is a collection of qUN: 玖釟○【ear-like●ˇ↓≯san zero cover.

“When I arrived, Dwyer should have just gotten home. His work clothes still had raindrops on them, and his rubber boots were covered in rusty gray soil, which was consistent with the soil near that shipbuilding machinery factory on Sandrank Street. His brother had been staying in his bedroom-cum-studio for a long time. The two had some conflicts, but they could communicate normally.”

“I conducted a routine inspection and found no prayers or esoteric artifacts in the entire dwelling.”

Upon hearing just the first sentence of Eve's description, Vivian's brows furrowed, and she lost almost all interest in what followed.

Can you estimate when Dwyer will get home?

"can."

After a moment's thought, Eve gave her own idea.

"I entered his house at 10:06 p.m., and the rain stains on his clothes looked relatively fresh, so he must have entered the house a little after 10 p.m. After quickly changing my shoes, I started cooking macaroni for my younger brother. The longest I was at home was no more than ten minutes."

“That’s the crux of the matter.”

Besides the obvious abnormalities already manifesting in Ift's body, Vivian also glimpsed a discrepancy in the logic of time from this description.

"I arrived at my observation post in the building across the street thirty minutes early, and I can say with certainty that no one entered Dwyer's residence during that time. In short... that guy and his brother stayed in the house the whole time."

From the time fallacy pointed out by Vivian, Ifrit felt an unsettling sense of unease.

"How did he do that? Did he use a secret passage?"

During her reserve service, she received systematic training in forensic trace evidence, enabling her to roughly deduce a person's activity trajectory from the physical state of many minute objects. In her judgment, it was impossible for Dwyer to have stayed inside the house the entire time.

After all, the rain stains on his shirt were still faintly visible, and had not completely soaked and spread over time.

"A secret passage...that's the best-case scenario, but if I may be so bold, it's best not to harbor such unrealistic fantasies."

Vivian admonished her about her ideas.

To be honest, even she herself felt somewhat unfamiliar with her expression and tone at that moment. The whole scene resembled a pessimistic yet experienced existentialist reminding an optimistic young person who always harbored illusions about reality.

This probably stems from Vivian's clear self-awareness.

“Ift, you are a hunter of secrets, a funeral maid, not a so-called detective. When faced with what has already happened, you should get more used to ‘accepting the status quo and solving it’ rather than ‘fixing the logic’ or ‘restoring the truth’.”

"Agent Vivian, I will keep your teachings in mind."

Ift bowed humbly.

She then inquired about the specific details of the next steps.

"Should we immediately return to Dwyer's residence, or request assistance?"

As Eve approached, Vivian looked away and gazed in the direction Mu Ning had flown from.

“I’ve already sent the Callbird to request reinforcements. The Funeral Court already knows the coordinates here. Next, we need to return to the nearest Suspended Blade Training Ground. After you’ve rested a bit, you can participate in the next cleanup mission.”

She carefully comforted the young nun.

"But what if someone escapes from Dwyer's side if we don't keep watch on them?"

Eve was somewhat puzzled by Vivian's decision, as it differed slightly from the "general knowledge" of funeral maids and seemed overly conservative.

"If you want to serve in the Purge Force in the future, you should understand one thing... As a weapon, you should not question, or even have thoughts. I need you to trust me wholeheartedly, and I will do everything in my power to protect your life. At the very least, you will not be easily wasted."

Vivian was mimicking Sister Heda's tone as closely as possible, capturing her essence quite well.

"...I misspoke, I'm sorry."

Ife lowered her head slightly as if she had done something wrong, and then followed the other person's steps.

Vivian didn't delve into the matter, but simply raised the black umbrella of the Secret Court, sheltering both of them in the cold drizzle and light breeze.

The Suspended Blade Field in the North District is quite a distance from Moonburton Street, requiring at least two hours on foot. However, the last bus has already left, and the area is mostly narrow, secluded alleys, making it difficult to hail a taxi on a rainy night.

Vivian pressed her lips together, suppressing the anxiety rising from her chest to her throat.