The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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Fran can perfectly replicate the inchworm's dance movements by coordinating and manipulating her body, thus achieving a similar performance effect. However, to recreate the charm of its expressive eyes and changing emotions, she will need to invest some extra learning time.

The third type of secret technique used by the Red Cup followers, [Transformation], works by reshaping flesh and skin, but the bone structure cannot be altered before reaching the third tier, making their disguise traceable. Meanwhile, followers of the Velvet Moth generally favor [Mimicry]. Dove

Compared to the crude and effective reshaping of flesh, this technique requires precise and skillful adjustments to the proportions of various structures to achieve the desired camouflage effect. It demands more effort and time to master, yet the results may not be as good.

Its only advantage is its ability to perform a short-term, and sufficiently natural, transformation from human to non-human.

Although Shitia scoffed at the core spirit of the Star Abyss Society's version of "Under Naurmaran," from a purely aesthetic perspective, the dancer on stage had indeed achieved the pinnacle of her craft.

Both in terms of visual appeal and emotional expression, it has approached the upper limit of a purely human dancer.

Speaking of which, this dancer would occasionally use harmless little tricks from the Moth Ritual to ignite the audience's enthusiasm without causing any mental harm... While it certainly had a cheating element to it, it was more like adding icing on the cake.

The only thing that puzzled this nobleman of Heil was the familiar feeling he had towards the black-haired girl on the stage, as if he had seen her somewhere before. However, the two were too far apart, and in Shiodia's eyes, all humans looked similar, so she couldn't immediately draw a conclusion.

Just then, Shitia suddenly felt a hand groping at the hem of her dress.

She followed this direction and saw Fran skillfully plucking a wisp of transparent tassel from under her robe, then concealing it slightly with her doctor's coat before inserting it into her ear.

The soft, translucent tassels slipped into the ear canal, bringing a cool, sticky sensation, and an instant connection of consciousness based on spiritual contact was formed.

“I’m sorry, Shitia, perhaps I should have given you a heads-up beforehand.”

Noticing the fleeting surprise in Shitia's eyes, Fran kept his lips pursed and did not speak, but his voice, which carried a hint of reassurance, reached Shitia's ears very clearly.

More accurately, it resonates directly in the mind.

"Don't worry about it, Dr. Fran. The theater environment is indeed not suitable for direct verbal communication."

Xitia blinked gently, seemingly unconcerned.

Oh, actually, using someone's tassel to establish a superficial connection of consciousness without the permission of the Heil nobles is quite impolite. This is generally a right reserved for blood relatives, close friends, or lovers.

However, if Fran had made this move, it wouldn't have been unacceptable. Shitia, being very understanding, granted her permission to be with this close friend who was difficult to describe in words.

"Sydia, it seems you have some issues with 'Under Naurmaran'?"

Fran tilted his head slightly and asked the question.

"Ah."

Shitia remained quite composed about having her thoughts guessed.

The doctor beside me, whose appearance was almost indistinguishable from a human, possessed a mystery that surpassed the level of an apostle. Not to mention that the expression I had just revealed was quite obvious, it was not impossible that she could directly see into other people's thoughts.

"The Gormouth dancer is technically impeccable, but the ballet itself is a plagiarism by the Star Abyss Society. Its music is a piece from the 'Elegy of the Coffin,' and it has been modified by a human musician."

"As for the specific details... they are somewhat embellished by the listeners regarding history."

She explained it clearly and concisely.

Fran didn't entirely agree with Shiodia's idea. She merely twitched her slender index finger slightly, then her eyes curved into a rather intriguing smile. Q

"This is just the first act; things may change later." (Group)

"Oh?" Shitia's interest was piqued upon hearing this.

Maintaining her excellent habit of not giving away spoilers, Fran did not offer an explanation. Shitia, too, was in no hurry to ask; after all, they were already in the theater, and as long as they patiently watched until the end, they would get the answer.

As for how Fran knew about the plot changes, the reason is quite obvious. Since he was able to share the inchworm's left eye perspective throughout, he naturally witnessed the entire secret rehearsal process first.

……eight

At the same time, they were drowning in the theater's reception room. (Kagi)

Haida sat upright on the blended fabric sofa in the reception room, her gaze calmly fixed on the middle-aged man opposite her.

Ifrit and Bebeza each stood behind, maintaining a basic state of alert.

Compared to Sister Eve, who was completely absorbed, Bebeza would occasionally glance at the fabric sofa, her fingertips scratching slightly in her palms, trying to suppress the urge to sharpen her claws.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sinclair Meredith. During a recent routine search, the Confidential Court discovered irregularities in the circulation of contraband at the Drowned Theater… therefore, further investigation is required, and we hope you can cooperate with our work."

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Ms. Haida.” Wu

The man known as Sinclair spoke with extreme submissiveness, even affability. But his smile was subtly stiff, as if he had maintained this expression for so long that the lines on his nasolabial folds had become fixed.

The Drowned Theatre is located within the secret realm of the West End. Even those without power, family background, or experience in occult rituals who can afford to attend a performance here must at least possess some wealth. Sinclair could not have been merely a businessman to be able to operate a theatre in such a location and tolerate a certain degree of smuggling and exchange.

His background is already revealed by his surname.

"It should be made clear beforehand that what we will be handling are nothing more than some low-class gadgets. Please, Ms. Haida, do not use such an unpleasant term as 'contraband,' as they are at most controversial items that are 'not proven to be harmful.'"

"No matter what, these are goods outside the scope of the city hall's regulations, but the taxes have not been reduced by a single penny."

Although he bore the surname Meredith, Sinclair was merely a descendant of a branch family, occupying a position that was neither high nor low. His communication principles, while perhaps an exaggeration to call them obsequious to superiors and bullying of inferiors, were not far off.

Facing a funeral home attendant, he tried his best to adopt the same tactful manner he would use with superiors, while maintaining a respectful yet assertive tone to preserve his family's reputation.

Even though he had made up his mind, his palms kept sweating uncontrollably.

Why is this nun so tall? She looks like she's a head taller than me... No, is this the time to be thinking about these things? Damn it, I wonder if the warehouse received my secret order to move the goods ahead of time.

If this underhanded business were exposed, the consequences would be far beyond what he could bear. And if it involved the real controllers and major investors behind the theater, his fate would only be worse.

"Ms. Haida Jiu, our Fallen Theatre's new dance drama, 'Under Naur San Maran,' is currently being performed in the theater. It stars a dancer with exceptionally high skill. Would you be interested in watching for a while?"

Sinclair calmed himself and began to stall for time once again.

He knew that the Hunter of Secrets would never accept the invitation, but he only hoped that the other party would spend more time negotiating with him.

Haida neither agreed nor refused.

She simply closed her hands and gently rubbed them together, mimicking Sinclair's posture and slightly unnatural smile. In the blink of an eye, she had already captured his essence.

"Anxiety, trepidation, and an unbearable price to pay."

Once Heda's expression returned to normal, she fluently recounted Sinclair's previous psychological changes and thoughts.

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soup!

Chapter Thirty-Six: The New Moon Contract

Act Two.

The originally deep, melancholic, and evocative orchestral sounds began to change, subtly interspersed with unsettling dissonant notes. Compared to the heavy, legendary feel of the overture, the melody at this moment was more realistic and narrative.

The repetitive notes, with their subtle, resonant echoes, depict the different emotions of the solo dancer and her accompaniments as they meet upon stepping onto the earth.

Curiosity, vigilance, enthusiasm, reverence, fear... or ulterior motives.

Human emotions are complex and intertwined, becoming confused by the vibrant notes and dance steps.

The girl from the Abyss meets the ancestors of Morion, and what follows is not a love story that has been depicted and sung about too many times... it is more like an interaction between unfamiliar civilizations.

He probed cautiously, reserved and somewhat wary.

Since the first sounding of the war horns of grand warfare, this chapter of history has almost bled dry, leaving the land and the sea scarred and ravaged. Looking out over the endless white sands of the mudflats, whose children's bones have been crushed into dust?

Faced with the people of Gorgormouth, tormented by the curse of the full moon, Heyle extended his arm, setting aside the clash of arms and choosing to unite. They would bring everything they possessed, seeking a peaceful resting place, a city to recuperate in.

"Unity" was an unfamiliar concept, and before it began to emerge, "violence" was the only principle of negotiation.

The Abyss Clan has not completely abandoned this underlying logic for maintaining the existence of their species, but apart from necessary violence, they are still full of rationality and compassion.

On the stage, the black-haired girl took the arm of the weeping, kowtowing man and invited him to follow her.

Behind the curtain, the stained-glass windows, representing celestial bodies, shifted shape with the projection of light, mirroring the phases of the moon. Beneath the newly risen, pale crescent moon, the oaths of alliance between the two sides were slowly unfurled.

The girl's gaze softened as she wrote the final words of the vow.

She seemed unaware that the writer on the other end was trembling slightly with excitement, and that a short dagger was hidden behind him.

……

Behind the curtain of the Drowning Theater, Vivian silently pulled down the brim of the props staff hat and moved quickly and silently through the interior area.

The area around the stage was bustling with activity; most people were in a hurry, with clear goals, completely oblivious to the already inconspicuous infiltrator. Even when they did exchange words, it was merely a nod.

The theater owner and major shareholders placed great importance on the premiere of "Under Naurmaran," partly due to the outstanding professionalism of the new lead dancer. She was not only capable of leading the dance, but also highly skilled in composing music, preparing props, and writing the script…

Even during the true heyday of the Lost Theatre before the Great Plague, there had never been such a unique dancer.

She naturally received preferential treatment in terms of resources and favor from her superiors.

As for the jealousy from other dancers and the numerous issues of unfair distribution, these were all resolved with the letter of recommendation from the Misty Society. ...Probably no boss would dislike such a stunning and worry-free employee.

Vivian was unaware of these inside details; she only felt that things had gone exceptionally smoothly for her all-around journey.

In crowded places, one will not be noticed; in sparsely populated areas, one can use the Shadow Manipulation Technique to conceal one's presence, further avoiding the risk of a direct confrontation.

Sister Heda chose to feign conversation with Sinclair in the reception room because of Vivian's presence. While the theater was frantically destroying evidence and transferring contraband, she was using this opportunity to infiltrate the heart of the theater.

In fact, the Secret Service had previously noticed irregularities in smuggling transactions here, but had simply kept quiet about it. Such a flaw, even if exposed, would be of little consequence to Meredith; at most, the theater manager would be dealt with internally.

Like Garnier, the engineering officer at the city hall, the only reason that deviant guy was allowed to stay in that position was to be used as a pawn. After he was executed by Black Banyan for the Drinker incident, the matter was considered closed, and there would be no further developments.

Vivian remained hidden all the way, quickly bypassing the security personnel through a ventilation duct and climbing into the underground warehouse.

Her figure was petite and well-proportioned, making her perfectly suited to moving through narrow, cramped pipes. If it were Sister Heda, she probably wouldn't even be able to squeeze into the outer opening of the pipe... a direct approach was more suitable for her.

"The long-unseen pipes crawled along; there was no other way, since the Secret Service was only suited for this kind of dusty work."

Vivian uttered a nearly silent complaint, then let Mu Ning in through a ventilation opening facing the warehouse. She then simply covered one eye with her hand and activated vision sharing.

Inside the warehouse, there was only extremely dim yellow incandescent light. Mu Ning focused his gaze and saw a group of people dressed in theater staff uniforms seemingly moving something.

"What could this be, the contraband mentioned in the investigation report? Is it a special work of art, or some other type of relic disguised as art?"

Although she had witnessed many momentous events worthy of being recorded in history books, including the arrival of the Drinkers and the upheaval at Gormouth, Vivian still couldn't help feeling a little nervous when carrying out such solo deep-dive missions.

For some, nervousness in the face of special circumstances may be innate. Experience and life experience can only compensate to some extent; whenever facing an emergency, one will still feel their heart race and their blood rush to their head.

Just then, an anxious supervisor in the underground warehouse urged them on.

"Faster, faster!" Lin

"Anything we can't move in time, just dump it into the acid bucket and dissolve it. We can't leave any evidence here. Once the Hunters arrive, we won't have to work anymore. We can just wait to go to jail and eat our prison meals. We'll have plenty of time to rest!" Si

Looking at the foreman's anxious, flushed face, if it weren't for the times, he would probably have already picked up a whip and started manually giving the movers negative feedback to speed things up.

The workers responsible for transferring and destroying the stolen goods were quite skilled and did not make any mistakes due to the busyness.

According to the plan, Vivian only needs to send a message to Sister Heda to come.

She is a professional and highly competent confidential investigator, and while maintaining secrecy during missions, she would never make such a foolish blunder as stepping on a tree branch, sneezing, or accidentally bumping into a ventilation duct wall.

The workers moving the crates below also displayed the discipline of underground members, their movements swift and orderly, unlike typical theater employees. From Mu Ning's perspective, calluses could be faintly seen on some of their fingers, suggesting they frequently used weapons.

Foreign mercenaries, armed smugglers, or private soldiers who have fallen into the clutches of the theater.

Regardless of the final outcome, they are clearly extremely skilled at what they are doing, their every move methodical and deliberate, displaying a high degree of expertise. There is little possibility of any unexpected events occurring.

If everything proceeds as expected, Vivian should remain an unnoticed and uninterrupted observer until Sister Heda arrives. Her mission is merely reconnaissance; there's no need for her to act as a combatant.

This Secret Service agent consistently maintains the highest level of caution when carrying out solo missions and always keeps himself in a state where he can evacuate at any time.

This is all thanks to the kind of unconventional popular reading this guy regularly consumes… Oh, the kind of stories that unfold when an investigator deep inside enemy territory is captured. It's so formulaic, so clichéd, that it's completely predictable.

However, an unexpected event changed the previously non-interference relationship between the two parties.

A smuggler who was moving cargo boxes suddenly felt an itch on his face, as if he had been bitten by a fly. It was an unbearable sensation that seemed to penetrate straight into his flesh, so much so that he almost put down the cargo boxes to scratch it.

But he managed to hold back, simply keeping his arms around the cargo box and rubbing his cheek against his shoulder to ease the discomfort.

"Thud." A dull thud from the flesh.

The next moment, the middle-aged smuggler saw his own face, which had fallen to the ground from his dawdling. It was rotten, soft, and covered in bloody wrinkles.

"what!"

Hysterical screams immediately echoed throughout the entire underground warehouse.

The man, filled with terror, knelt on the ground, the wooden crate he was carrying slipping from his grasp and shattering into countless rectangular planks. Several tightly bound blank scrolls spilled out, some immediately unfurling. 4

"Close your eyes, don't look at or face those paintings, and put on hoods that cover your entire face!"

Seeing this, the foreman turned his back with all his might and then roared out instructions. He had instinctively wanted to curse the idiot, but considering the urgency of the situation, he had no choice but to swallow the words that were already on the tip of his tongue.

Although he kept issuing warnings, his heart was instantly filled with fear, confusion, and anger. So much so that his features, hidden behind the hood, were twisted and contorted, each character protruding with a gnashing of teeth.

That damn idiot, if you want to die, go hang yourself somewhere, don't drag me down with you... I knew these guys who take money to do things couldn't be trusted; even with such comprehensive instructions, things still went wrong.

Unfortunately, the supervisor didn't realize one thing...