The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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Hopefully, no further changes will occur before Sister Heda arrives.

The only thing that puzzled her was that the smuggler who had been carrying the scroll and was the first to show signs of abnormality seemed to have made no procedural mistakes. He simply wiped his sweat off his shoulder and his face fell.

What was the direct cause of this smuggling case turning into a harmful incident?

Besides that, there's something very important... I didn't see the first one who died during the count! ◆玖＼＠泗。 阾∏参铻〓◇陆〉中〓］转'群●：Where did the guy's body go?

-

Drowning in the theater, the reception room.

Just as Sinclair was filled with apprehension at Heda's words, "anxious, apprehensive, and unbearable price," a dark figure with a hint of satin hue flew out of the ventilation duct and landed on the back of Heda's hand.

"Gah!"

Muning let out an urgent cry and raised its wings, flapping them towards the underground warehouse. At the same time, it extended its dark beak and began to move it repeatedly across the nun's palm, as if writing words.

In a short while, Haida had a general understanding of the nature of the incident.

Munning wrote down the Funeral Court's common cipher, the word of which means "dangerous contact".

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sinclair. I think we’ll have a chance to discuss your question in detail later at the funeral home.”

After saying this, Haida ignored the theater manager who was trembling slightly and immediately pushed open the door of the reception room, stepped into the staff passage, and headed towards the underground warehouse.

-

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Soup! (Let's start the fight again!)

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Wolf-Shaped Eyes

Seeing Heda leave the reception room with two other funeral maids, Sinclair stood there with his hand outstretched, seemingly wanting to stop her, but probably knowing it was futile. He finally stopped, his expression shifting between somber and gloomy.

"That crow that crawled out of the ventilation duct...did she send someone to infiltrate the underground warehouse beforehand?"

He kept biting his thumbnail, completely oblivious to the blood seeping from between his fingers.

The waiter standing to the side slowly approached Sinclair, his eyes lowered, maintaining a submissive posture.

But the words that came out of his mouth carried an undisguised chill.

"Exposure is unavoidable now. Should we get rid of this nun?"

"She's a conscription attendant who passed the tests administered by the psychiatric supervisors at the Funeral Court. Are you confident in your abilities? Even if you manage to do it by sheer luck, how are we going to explain this to the Hunters? Are you going to be the one negotiating with the swords and bullets of the purging forces?"

"If it's just a purely 'case,' even hunters need to have evidence and follow certain established procedures. But if they determine that the theater incident poses a high-risk disaster threat or is an open provocation by the Meredith family, and actually resulted in casualties at the supervisory level... this could even become the start of a covert war."

Sinclair was clearly extremely annoyed with the current situation, so much so that he spoke quickly and rapidly, and the veins on his forehead were clearly visible.

Regardless of whether the final conflict is ignited or how the drama at the theater ends, his guilt for dereliction of duty is almost a foregone conclusion. The family's reckoning is imminent, like a sharp blade hanging over his head, and joining the Hunters is nothing but wishful thinking.

He vividly remembered what the head deacon of the Meredith family had told him.

We can create minor trouble for the hunters, but we can't leave too obvious a trace, and we must prevent any possibility of direct conflict. We lost too much in the trial of Red Wolf, and we can no longer guarantee victory in the covert war.

To maintain a semblance of stability, we'll stop at nothing. Think of Garnier from the engineering department; he was caught red-handed by the Secret Hunters, and he'll be the price to pay. If you make the same mistake, you won't be any different.

"Let me think, let me think..."

Sinclair paced back and forth with his hands behind his back, the lining of his expensive suit already soaked with cold sweat.

Although he was in charge of the Drowning Theater, he was not the actual controller or shareholder; he was merely the steward tasked with maintaining the theater's operations. The real financial backer was someone else... but that person would never offer him any assistance.

In the end, I can only rely on myself.

"Contact the family to prepare for negotiations. We'll send someone to try to intercept the nun by force, to buy some more time for the people who are transferring goods down below."

The waiter nodded upon hearing this and then inquired about the specific personnel arrangements.

“Okay, Mr. Sinclair… So who should we send?”

Sinclair answered without the slightest hesitation, as if he had already conceived the answer in his mind! #酒牭√％林↑∩蒐〃｝索:suo ...

"Besides 'Wolf Eye,' who was sent in by the family to monitor the tribute quota, do we have any other candidates? Or do you think that a thug with a gun can stop a conscription attendant? Go beg him and tell him that we are in deep trouble right now, and don't expect me to take responsibility alone. If things get out of hand, I will drag him down with me no matter what."

"Yes."

The waiter lowered his head and quickly left the reception room. Compared to the manager's near-hysterical state, this guy looked much calmer.

He belonged to the true financiers of the Drowning Theatre, providing only the most basic services to Sinclair, and remained outside the network of responsibility for this incident. Watching some random stuff in his spare time helped pass the boring work hours.

After giving all his instructions, Sinclair slumped weakly onto the fabric sofa in the reception room, his chest heaving with each deep breath, as if trying to calm his increasingly erratic heartbeat.

He has done all he can do; now he can only pray for a stroke of luck.

……

Guided by Munning, Haida, accompanied by Evet and Bebesa, quickly made her way through the staff passageway of the Drowned Theater.

Most of the doors along the way had been closed beforehand, but they posed no obstacle to the nun. With just one draw of her sword, a gap would appear in the sturdy steel fire door, large enough for a person to pass through.

Sometimes, to save time, she would even cut directly through the concrete wall to quickly reach the other side of the winding corridor.

Throughout the process, they frequently encountered theater guards, most of whom, acting on professional instinct, wanted to stop them, but after meeting Heda's grey-chestnut eyes, they would shrink back and make way. The intensity of her daily patrols and sentries was more than enough to justify her salary; there was no need for her to risk her life for another job.

When she reached a wide-open intersection deep inside the theater, her leather hunting boots paused, and she came to a complete stop.

"There's no need to wait any longer with any illusions. I can smell your scent even across the entire corridor."

"Or would you rather I take action to force you to show yourself?"

As she spoke, Haida cast her gaze into the shadows of the recessed area in the corridor.

Bebeza blinked her brass-colored eyes with curiosity, her pupils dilating into circles in the dim light. She followed the nun's gaze in that direction but didn't detect anything unusual or any sign of life.

The only things worth noting are the stone wolf reliefs on the walls and some unusual smells.

"You actually detected it by smell? That was too hasty. Maybe I should rub more dirt on myself next time."

A voice, tinged with displeasure, rang out.

After that, a strong and agile young man with a handsome face pushed open the flip-up partition at the relief and came out. He was wearing an intricately patterned vintage suit, and his body was covered with the scent of champagne and some kind of cologne. He seemed to have just come from the venue of the Drowning Theater.

In addition, he also has a pair of gray-chestnut eyes.

"Ms. Haida, please tell me, was it the scent of Bani Champagne that gave me away, or did the new perfume from Kenfta catch your attention?"

"It's that nauseating, putrid smell of blood on you."

Haida's answer was brief and concise.

Vivian's situation in the lower warehouse was unknown, and she didn't intend to waste any more time there. Therefore, the nun didn't wait for the person in front of her to make another glib remark, but simply presented her with a choice.

“Unnamed Meredith, now is your only chance to leave. If you attempt to interfere with my actions, I will not guarantee your personal safety.”

"That's a terrible argument."

Pedro, with his "wolf-like eyes," waved his hand, seemingly to indicate that he meant no harm. His expression, tone, and body language all suggested he was extremely relaxed.

But the instant she finished speaking, the floor tiles beneath Haida's feet suddenly shattered, and an invisible shockwave, accompanied by smoke and flames, surged upwards, about to climb up to the nun's calves in the blink of an eye.

The roar was like thunder, the walls trembled, and dust was shaken off.

...But the noise did not come entirely from the booby trap detonated by Pedro.

Just moments before the explosion was about to begin, Haida slammed her hunting boots into the ground, creating an impact in the opposite direction that weakened the explosion's effect and shook the floor partitions of the theater aisle, making them teeter on the verge of collapse.

Visually, it looks as if she stepped on and extinguished a pillar of fire that was about to rise.

For Pedro, who possessed a certain level of military theory and physics knowledge, the scene before him was even more shocking. The booby trap he had just used was designed for infantry, and its explosive charge and power were somewhat lacking... but to remain completely still during an explosion, it would need to have a weight comparable to that of an armored vehicle.

Even so, the flesh and blood body should still show signs of injury.

"It seems you have already given your answer."

After confirming the hostile stance of both sides, Haida said no more, instead drawing her power sword "Nirvana" and leaping forward, sweeping a horizontal slash at Pedro.

The latter instinctively swung his sword to defend, but at the moment of contact, he felt his entire field of vision go blank. This meant that his mind had been overwhelmed by dizziness, leaving only a state of confusion and disorientation in his thoughts.

When Pedro's blurred vision refocused, he found that his family's finely crafted secret sword was broken and shattered, and a severed arm was still tightly gripping the hilt. The wound on the severed arm was extremely irregular, with tendons and blood vessels faintly visible, as if it had been forcibly torn off by an external force.

"vomit……"

He spat out some saliva mixed with blood; the impact of the recent clash must have caused internal organ damage.

"It hasn't been that long, and the cubs around Red Wolf have already grown to this extent. No wonder the old guys in the decision-making body are so concerned about your threat. I thought they were just having another PTSD episode with the Undertaker..."

"It seems they still underestimate you, Sister Heda."

Pedro muttered as he backed away, revealing that the bleeding from his mangled wound had stopped, and the exposed tendons and blood vessels were twitching rapidly, as if something was floating beneath the dermis, about to be revealed.

The passage was dimly lit, and Haida's eyesight was slightly impaired due to the influence of the Black Erosion Dragon's genome, so she couldn't see what it was for a moment.

But Bebesa saw with perfect clarity what lingered above the man's wound... it was an eyeball. It resembled a swollen growth, or perhaps an irregular tumor that had developed after cancer.

"Do you want to continue?"

Haida frowned slightly, a hint of irritation flashing in her eyes.

From the moment she took action, she felt her violent desires boiling like never before. Like a scorching ember in her chest, it burned and licked at her mind, making it impossible for her not to be drawn into it.

Commandments, creeds, constraints—none of it seemed to matter anymore. All she wanted now was to clench her fists and relentlessly smash this repulsive fool before her into a bloody pulp, until he was utterly dead and his bones were crushed.

However, the stronger the emotion, the more restrained Heda became; she was always good at managing her behavior and emotions.

Even so, the brief question just now was already an ultimatum.

"...Let's save it for next time."

Looking into the other person's noticeably colder, chestnut-brown eyes, Pedro's previously brimming fighting spirit vanished without a trace. After leaving behind a remark that hardly amounted to a threat, he picked up his arm and turned to leave.

Once this little incident was over, Haida quickened her pace and headed towards the underground warehouse without lingering any longer.

Bebesa could barely keep up with her speed, but Sister Eve, being purely human, was clearly not up to the task, and even maintaining a distance where she could barely see the other's back was somewhat difficult.

During this brief pause, Bebesa asked a question, somewhat puzzled.

"Sister Haida, why didn't you kill him?"

With her keen intuition for struggle and bloodshed, she could vaguely sense that Haida had developed an extremely strong offensive tendency at some point. Although the nun stood still, it seemed that she had already torn off that person's head countless times in her mind.

"I have no intention of causing any unnecessary trouble."

Haida responded in a deep voice.

Taking Meredith's life might not take much time, but the most important task right now is to confirm Vivian's and the underground warehouse's status. Anything else that might delay progress is considered unnecessary.

This was her explanation to her subordinates, and also the reason she used to convince herself.

Led by Mu Ning, Haida broke through the blockades along the way and entered the underground warehouse. The fire, which had been ignited by the broken lantern, was now raging even more fiercely, and thick, gray-black smoke accompanied by waves of heat swept towards them.

"Sister Haida!"

Seeing Haijiuda burst through the door, Vivian, who had been in a state of high tension, relaxed and her whole demeanor eased.

The other smugglers nearby were taken aback by his familiar manner and stood frozen in place.

Greg, that drunkard, was actually an undercover agent for the Hunters? But how could that be? He joined the smuggling team five years ago, was a heavy drinker, and we've done countless dirty jobs together. He's an undeniably rotten person…

"you are?"

Bebesa and Eve, who rushed over, looked at the middle-aged man with a stubble-covered face and smelling of cheap brandy. Although they had some guesses, they still found it hard to believe that he was the right person.

"Oh, this... I used some disguise because of the situation."

After saying this, Vivian removed the [Mimetic Veil], revealing her true appearance.

"Initial Secret Command: Camellia".

The moment Haida saw the agent, she saw through her disguise and knew her identity. However, she still followed the usual procedure of the Hunters and inquired about the specific secret orders.

"Responding to the secret order: Ghost Orchid."

Ignoring the bewildered looks that turned to astonishment from the smugglers around her, Vivian gave a fluent reply. After receiving a nod of confirmation from Haida, she began to explain the current situation.

"An unknown anomaly occurred in the underground warehouse, leading to dangerous contact. The evil entity derived from the scroll possesses gas pollution properties, which can mitigate physical damage to a certain extent... It can be said to be exactly the same as the Dwyer incident."

"I have taken some measures to prevent the situation from getting worse, but there must still be some who have slipped through the net."

After listening to the agent's analysis of the current situation, Haida's nostrils twitched slightly, as if she had sensed something. However, she did not say anything, but instead began to issue corresponding instructions based on the roles of each member of the team.

“Vivian, please lead the survivors from these four miles away from the warehouse, and then linger in the corridor for a while while I wait. In the meantime, I hope you can complete the initial interrogation.”

"Bebesa and Ift, you are responsible for guarding and protecting the area, and be prepared to deal with any emergencies. Also, don't let any of these guys escape."

Ift nodded obediently and then asked the nun about her own task assignment.