The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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Maintaining her human form, Bebeza raised her lowered head and then reached out to take the sword hilt from Zoparos's hand. Her movements were swift and careful, as if she were worried about accidentally cutting his palm.

Since joining the Order of the Hunters, she has behaved extremely well, almost to the point of being obedient.

This was partly thanks to Fran's prior treatment. Being surrounded by inhuman beings at the Fog Street Clinic did not frighten Bebeza; instead, it made her feel a strange sense of familiarity, and her psychological defenses were greatly reduced.

In addition, it was because Bebesa sensed a novel attitude from the Hunter that she had never experienced before.

...Respect. Dad

This may be the most basic personal right among intelligent individuals capable of independent thought, but she had never received it before.

Seeing that Bebeza had taken the steel blade, Zoparos nodded slightly, then raised his hand to extinguish the nearly burnt-out bone-core oil candles around him. VII

After that, his previously solemn and dignified demeanor vanished, replaced by a slight, displeased pout.

"Alright, the ceremony is over. Let Sister Heda take you away."

"These kids in this generation are all incredibly perfunctory with their teachers. They're never around, but the moment something difficult comes up, they know to bother me." — San

At this moment, Zoparos resembled a grumpy old neighbor, grumbling in a rather relaxed tone. 4

For him, this was indeed work outside his official duties.

In most cases, the appointment and dismissal ceremonies of funeral maids are conducted by instructors or part-time officiants from the Funeral Court—Bartleley, Naor, or even Black Rong are all capable of this. It's not the place for an elderly occult master to handle it.

The reason Zoparros is here is because none of the aforementioned individuals are very fluent in reciting the prayers in Loreton. After all, it is full of long and complex sentences with obscure language, and it also has special requirements for intonation and rhythm.

Haida, who was standing in the long corridor outside the ossuary, saw the paper candles go out and then stepped into the secret room.

"Mr. Zoparos, thank you for your assistance."

"No problem. Since I'm the most suitable person to handle this, I naturally won't refuse. There's no need to give me that smooth-talking official stuff. If you really want to thank me, just send a transfer letter to our secret arts department."

Zoparos waved his hand, clearly not caring.

Even for this eccentric and highly experienced old man, performing the appointment and dismissal ceremony for a saber-toothed beast was still an interesting experience. Besides, it was just a small matter that could be done casually and wouldn't take much time.

Just as Haida was about to leave with Bebesa, he slammed the book in his hand shut, signaling the two to stop for the moment.

“Little one named Bebesa, don’t think you won’t see me again. As a formal funeral maid, you must master at least one arcane technique that can be used in direct combat. Come to the library in a couple of days, and I’ll pick out a few suitable ones for you to choose from, along with a general knowledge handbook.”

"And one more thing."

"I hope you can become familiar with Common Tongue as soon as possible, and you also need to learn to write quickly. Since you are following Sister Heda, she will teach you. Of course, you can also come to the Department of Mystic Arts in your spare time when you don't have any missions to attend and sit in on the cipher classes taught by my students."

He did not instruct Bebesa to have her attend his classes, and the reason was quite simple... As a master of arcane arts, even if he was teaching what he considered basic knowledge, it would still be considered advanced material for most students.

Even reserve hunters whose native language is Common Tongue and who have a certain academic foundation often need to concentrate fully to barely keep up with the train of thought of Zuo Er Jiu◇4》, Lin San‖＋liu×↓ Si Zhong Qun:Paros.

If the current Bebesa were to audit the class, the only thing she could probably do would be turn into a cat and sleep on the podium.

……

After guiding Bebesa through all the necessary procedures for becoming a funeral maid, Heda did not follow the usual procedure of immediately starting her training or instructing her in languages ​​or esoteric subjects.

Even without relying on her psychic profiling talent, she could sense a trace of confusion in the saber-toothed beast's heart.

This is perfectly normal. Arriving in a completely new and unknown city, joining an organization you've never heard of before, it's extremely common to feel a little lost. So, Hedda showed her the old traditions of the funeral home... to give the little one some hope for the future.

"Sister Haida, where are we going now?"

Bebesa tilted her head slightly, asking with a hint of curiosity.

Seeing her ask the question, Haida had no intention of keeping her in suspense and immediately gave her an answer.

"It's a special collection room in the funeral parlor, which is generally not recommended for newly hired hunters to visit. I don't know if you'll like it there. However, most experienced hunters will visit it from time to time to admire their own or their colleagues' loot."

After walking for a while, the two arrived at a classical building that exuded a cold atmosphere.

Although there are hunters assigned to patrol this area, no identification is required, and it is an open space.

"This place was established by a former chief hunter and is called the 'Skull Gallery'."

After entering with Bebesa, Haida gave a concise explanation.

Upon seeing the collection in this exhibition hall, Bebesa's eyes widened immediately. Her normally straight pupils dilated uncontrollably, and her breathing and chest heaved rapidly.

On each of the two display cases, and in each shelf, there is only one of each of the four items stored.

That is, "skull".

They included various evil offspring with bloated and distorted faces, heretical disciples displaying madness, and strange creatures whose specific names were unknown. Their heads, after undergoing a series of specimen-like treatments such as hollowing out, dehydration, and preservation, were placed here, most of them still maintaining the ferocious posture of their last moments before death.

Compared to the White Cup Order's museum, this place offers a completely different kind of shock and impact, but it's not so convenient to open to the public... after all, ordinary people would have nightmares if they saw it.

Seeing Bebesa's expression, Heda didn't offer any explanation, but remained silent to further observe her emotional changes.

Will she accept all of this, or will she show panic, fear, or discomfort?

Heda wouldn't be surprised by whatever reaction Bebesa showed, as the nun never placed special expectations of others based on her own values.

However, as a funeral maid, she must at least be able to adapt to the traditions of the Funeral Court.

According to a confidant of Alvin's supervisor, Vivian chose to join the Funeral Court without hesitation after visiting the skull exhibition hall years ago. This is understandable, given the Funeral Court's notorious casualty rate... and Vivian, with her consistently sound self-awareness, would instinctively avoid high-risk options.

Soon, Haida received a response from Bebesa.

Upon glimpsing the neatly arranged and orderly display case of heads, the saber-toothed creature's first reaction was... excitement and agitation.

Her breath became visibly hot, her fingers trembled slightly with heightened emotions, and her fair skin flushed crimson from the rush of blood.

The most striking feature was the unconscious smile that crept onto the corners of her lips.

Immediately, Bebesa noticed the newest display cases and recognized the owners of the heads: Solos, the leader of the "Snow Country Edge" slave caravan; members of the "Winter Fangs" team that had previously pursued her; and many other Northern Blades she had never seen before.

Their expressions ranged from gloomy to fierce, but more often they revealed the weakness and distortion of facing death. (Three! Six…$)

She vividly remembered the disdainful looks those Northern Blade Slayers gave her as they appraised her, as if gauging the value of each dismembered limb. And when she herself, due to her physical defects, inadvertently revealed a human form, an even more blatant meaning would appear in their eyes…

Even if she is only a sub-adult who has not yet fully developed.

At this moment, they were stripped of everything in their lives, including dignity, and then placed in display cases, silently and quietly displayed as trophies for the hunters to admire.

"call--"

Bebesa let out a long breath, raising a puff of white mist. Due to her limited language skills, she found it difficult to describe her current feelings and thoughts in detail, but they could ultimately be summarized in one sentence.

Lord Hunter, I've come to the right place!

"Thank you for bringing me here, Sister Haida."

She thanked Haida somewhat awkwardly; this was probably the first time she had ever uttered the word "thank you" since birth.

“I’m glad you like this pavilion, Bebesa. Perhaps in the near future, you will also bring your own collection to it.”

Haida nodded to her, her words remaining as calm as ever.

For hunters working at the Funeral Parlor, emotional stability is an indispensable quality. Anyone who feels uneasy upon seeing the skull exhibit is clearly unsuitable for the job, such as a seasoned investigator who is less courageous than a vocal bird.

However, if one becomes too enthusiastic, there are also some minor problems.

However, the previous generation of Outer Path Hunters all suffered from paranoid personality disorder to varying degrees, including Bartley, Black Rong, most of the Purge Team's enforcers, and the current Undertaker. As a result, this type of person is now showing a tendency to become the mainstream.

Without the intervention of the Medical Court, these guys' mental states would likely only become more extreme and narrow-minded.

After gathering her thoughts, Haida began to explain the specific layout of the exhibition hall to Bebesa.

"If we consider only their value, the heads of these broken blades are clearly not worth placing in a prominent position in the front hall. Before the chaos in the Northern Kingdom, these heads were usually placed here for high priests, large evil offspring, or other more threatening individuals."

"But after that, we will behead the most unforgivable of the traitors and place them here. The slightly better ones will be burned after execution, preserving their final dignity as the dead... provided they deserve it."

At this moment, Heda was like a dedicated guide, meticulously explaining every artifact along the corridor to Bebesa. As a nun who had grown up in the Funeral Court after being brought back by the chief hunter, she knew everything in the exhibition hall like the back of her hand.

"Speaking of which, this place not only houses broken blade heads, but also some madmen from Loretown. These include arcane practitioners, military and political personnel, spies, and lunatics who want to launch suicide attacks. What you need to know is that every head displayed here represents an unforgivable crime."

Although the relationship between the Order of the Hunters and the Council of Loretown is almost at odds, neither side intends to have a large-scale conflict at present, and thus they are maintaining a certain degree of restraint, keeping the undercurrents hidden in the shadows of their game.

The Hunters dealt with the Northern Blade in a cold and ruthless manner, but at the same time, they never forgot the real culprit.

If Bebesa were still in her leopard-cat form, she might already be holding her tail high in excitement.

Although Heda was not an enthusiastic guide, she was genuinely captivated by what the nun was saying.

Sometimes, feeling a sense of connection with an organization or institution, such as "it suits your taste" or "it's a good fit," doesn't require boasting or showing off. As long as they are willing to show you what they have done in the past, everything is self-evident.

“I understand your feelings, Bebesa. However, I hope you can remain calm no matter what situation you encounter. The relationship between hunter and prey is never constant; arrogance, pride, and impetuosity can all cause the balance of power to shift.”

Haida had no intention of dampening the little one's enthusiasm, but she still needed to give her a strong enough warning.

"There is something I have an obligation to tell you: this exhibition hall also houses the heads of your kind."

"My kind?"

Upon hearing this, Bebesa was somewhat stunned, and she forgot to close her slightly parted lips.

But soon, she understood what Haida was trying to say.

“…I’m sorry, Sister Haida, I shouldn’t be surprised. The slave traders of Broken Blade are all human, your kind. If they can be placed here, then my kind, if they are similar to them, can certainly be placed here as well.”

"Yes."

Haida responded in a deep voice.

"Hunters will judge all sentient beings equally, whether human or non-human. The decisive factor in judging whether an object deserves to die is never race, but 'crime' and 'harm'. This is the commandment that hunters follow."

"As for the rest... you come from the North, so I believe you don't need my lectures."

After the topic of "commandments," the nun intended to mention "war." However, considering that Bebesa had come from Loreton and probably already had firsthand experience with it, she did not continue.

"Sister Haida, may I see its head?"

Although she understands and agrees with the hunter's code of conduct, Bertha still wants to see her "kindred spirit" in person.

"Yes, there are no restricted areas in this exhibition hall."

Haida agreed and led her to a special exhibition area located deep within the exhibition hall. The items displayed here were mostly the heads of mythical creatures or heirs of gods, and most of them were withered and shriveled, but the cut surfaces at the necks were smooth and neat.

"I saw this head when I was young, but its file wasn't unlocked for me until I became a waiter."

Arriving before a massive ceremonial cabinet, Haida read out the name of the severed head.

"Sword-shaped Suanni".

"It was captured by this funeral minister on the night of the chaos in the Northern Kingdom. Bebesa, strictly speaking, can only be considered a distant relative of yours. But both are creations of that old swordsman."

Upon seeing the severed head, Bebesa narrowed her eyes, a deep sense of bewilderment settling over her.

An older member of her tribe once spoke of the Suanni. In his description, they were beautiful, powerful, and noble creatures, unbound by the earth, roaming freely in the sky…

However, the head in the display case is hard to reconcile with the above description.

Although stripped of all the elements necessary for survival, an ominous sense of foreboding still emanates from this enormous and terrifying head. Its features are swollen and contorted, its skin is dissolving and covered in scales, its throat and tongue are covered with hooked teeth, and its fangs are haphazardly interlocked.

For it, "ugly" is a word that is clearly lacking in power.

Even as a saber-toothed creature known for its strength, Bebesa felt a nausea, followed by an instinctive panic. What terrified her was not the current state of the sword-mounted Suanni's death, but the image of its appearance in life.

"Meow."

Due to the intense emotional fluctuations, her human form could not be maintained for a moment and quickly plasticized back into her leopard cat form. The newly made funeral maid's robes then fell loosely to the ground, and the light gray bodice that served as undergarment was vaguely visible.

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soup!

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Black Wasteland

"The sun is out."

Gazing at the few rays of sunlight falling into the clinic from the window sill of the main hall, Sigrid couldn't help but stretch out her palm. The clear, bright spots of light immediately fell into her palm, bringing a touch of warmth.

Norlington is often rainy, making the sunshine in late autumn all the more precious.

This made her feel quite happy, and her eyebrows and eyes couldn't help but curve slightly, outlining a soft arc.

Tinuville stood quietly to the side, trying to understand the craftswoman's emotions at that moment.

Sometimes she would envy her for no reason, even though her own personality module had been perfected to an extremely high degree, she still couldn't obtain the human sense of happiness through celestial states and weather changes like the other person.

In the Foggy Street Clinic, Fran is mysterious and unpredictable; even her approachable demeanor doesn't reveal her true thoughts. And to attempt to fathom her mind and power would be presumptuous.

Tinuvel vividly remembered how the doctor used his psionic powers to crush any aggressive individuals along the way, including gene stealers and chaotic creations, before stepping directly into the core area where his ship was located and moving the entire computing array away.

Although this scene was far less spectacular than a massive artillery barrage or other large-scale weapons, the thought that all of this was accomplished by a tiny humanoid creature still evoked a genuine sense of "astonishment" in her personality model.

As for the others in the clinic, they were categorized as either aliens with special genomes or heavily modified humans. Tinuvel didn't mind maintaining the social etiquette of human society with them, but there hadn't been many opportunities for contact recently.