The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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"Based on Dr. Fran's drunken suggestion, the Machine God 'Logic' is located in the White Bunker. To open the gate to that location, the telemetry and surveillance systems of tunnels one, four, and seven need to be activated beforehand."

"I just have some doubts about whether activating the telex system is really necessary..." U

Sigrid was quite concerned about the matter of "opening the door."

This guy never actually solved any doors in a puzzle-solving way; he just melted them open whenever he encountered a lock. Oh, there's probably no more reliable key in the world than thermite, and coincidentally, the temperature he can generate far exceeds the limits of thermite. N

"Finding 'shortcuts' often comes with both huge rewards and risks; how to do it depends on the specific circumstances."

Heda wasn't opposed to Sigrid's ideas, but the nun still offered her a word of advice, following her professional custom.

After a brief rest, the two carried Flamel, who was gradually showing signs of waking, away from the Saint-Domec orphanage and into the streets of downtown Prechville. The alleyways were unlit, yet not dim, for everything in sight was bathed in the pale white light of the moon.

While embracing Flamel, Sigrid summoned daylight to dispel the moon's scorching heat, while Heda stood guard ahead; their roles were quite clearly defined.

The three walked along the pedestrian shopping street towards the temple district, intending to approach and observe the area around the hollow tower.

Surprisingly, Sigrid wasn't attacked by the Moonburn Madman even once during the nearly twenty-minute journey, which surprised her. Several times she saw heat sources approaching nearby, but the creature glanced at them from afar and then chose to flee without hesitation.

Hmm... what does this mean? It wasn't like this when we arrived.

Perhaps in their eyes, Sister Heda was far more terrifying than I was?

“Sigrid, there’s a guy next to that building who looks like he’s been burned by the moon, but doesn’t seem insane.”

Heda pointed across the street, where the Bohemian Museum was marked on the Presville map. Standing beside the museum's entrance was a respectful-looking, impeccably dressed valet.

If he were an ordinary person, his festering and deformed face would be impossible to ignore; if he were a madman, he would appear far too calm and composed.

"I think I've seen him before."

The distance was quite far, and Sigrid couldn't be sure for sure, but the male servant in front of the museum did look very much like the butler she had seen at the mayor's mansion, Mr. Jeeves.

Only when she got closer did she become certain of her thoughts.

The other person's appearance, clothing, demeanor, and even the coffee cup and saucer he was holding were exactly the same as when he was at the mayor's mansion.

Good night, ladies.

Jeeves bowed respectfully, displaying all the qualities expected of an excellent waiter.

"Mr. Jeeves?"

Although she already had a judgment in her mind, Sigrid still asked to test the other party's identity.

“Yes, Ms. Sigrid. I’m glad you remember my name.”

"As you know, the job of a butler is not easy most of the time. Serving a master who is capricious and has peculiar tastes is not an easy task in itself, and it is even more difficult if he suddenly disappears."

Jeeves made small talk in a relaxed tone.

Putting aside his face, which was twisted and melted by the scorching moon, he could even be described as witty.

"Is there anything I can help you with? Or are you two perhaps visiting a museum but lacking some guidance?"

Before Sigrid could speak, Geeves asked the two of them why they had come.

"I want to know the location of the White Bunker."

Haida made no attempt to hide her needs and stated them directly.

Rather than wasting time on pretense and red tape, she preferred to get straight to the point. Even if the other party didn't intend to respond, she could control them first and then use psychic empathy to glean their knowledge and thoughts.

“White Bunker… Sister, the way you asked the question was truly impressive.”

Jeeves repeated the place name, then waved his hands toward the museum entrance, making a standard "please come in" gesture.

“You will find what you’re looking for at the Bohemian Museum.”

"is it?"

Yi Haida's gaze narrowed slightly as she scrutinized the waiter once more.

The other person's facial features were highly distorted, appearing as if burned and ulcerated, making it impossible to judge their mental state from their expression. Out of caution, she still reached out and touched the other person's body, beginning to empathize with them.

The distant, dark depths of space, the vast, pale white celestial bodies that cover the entire horizon, and the ever-changing light.

This was Haida's initial feeling after experiencing psychic awareness.

This feeling came from Jeeves, but it did not belong to him. It was the last sight that every one of the Moon-Scorched Ones could see before falling into madness, a direct manifestation of the Old Gods' blessing reflected in their minds, and the dazzling radiance of the Moon God Rael's burning thoughts.

Jiu Yuezhuo's feelings were quick and brief. Soon after the scene disappeared, Haida saw images of the "white bunker".

The first thing that flashed through Yi's mind was the three unusual people in the museum dressed in masquerade ball gowns.

"The Red Demon", "The Priestess of the Sun", "The Happy Mask Salesperson".

Secondly, there is a deep gold clock hanging in the center of the inner hall.

Beneath the tumor clock lies a bottomless pit, an endless ladder... Beyond that, the fragmented scenery ceases to exist, leaving only the mechanical noise of gears meshing and mechanical transmission.

Having obtained the information she wanted, Haida immediately severed her empathic state of consciousness, then raised her hand to gently touch her forehead to alleviate the intense burning sensation caused by the pale moonlight shining directly into her thoughts.

Jeeves was not lying; the White Bunker was located beneath the museum.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Jeeves."

After briefly thanking the waiter, Heda led Sigrid and the still somewhat drowsy little Flamel through the museum doors.

-

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soup!

Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Season of Sulfur [The Last Sacrifice]

The Bohemian Museum is a classic example of Baroque architecture, decorated in an elegant and refined palatial style. However, due to the changing times, many interior elements have been replaced with more modern styles, giving it a more artistic atmosphere.

Besides that, there seems to be something else special about this place today.

How to describe it?

lively.

Compared to the deserted streets of Preschville, the interior of the museum could only be described as "lively." Bright lights, candlelit windows, people in their finest attire, and floral decorations usually reserved for festivals or banquets...

There is no doubt that a celebration is taking place here.

...To be more precise, it was a masquerade ball.

"A strange atmosphere."

Haida frowned slightly, and her gray-chestnut eyes narrowed accordingly.

Almost the instant she stepped into the space, the nun sensed the disharmony permeating the entire exhibition hall. Even though she wasn't an experienced funeral maid, she could easily feel this overly obvious unease.

The museum was too quiet.

Most of the attendees were dressed in bizarre and extravagant masquerade costumes, and they constantly interacted and exchanged ideas.

They greet each other, invite each other to dance, or chat and laugh enthusiastically and obsequiously... You can see their lips moving and their bodies swaying, but no sound comes out.

It was as if the scene before us was merely a recording of an old-fashioned silent film, and everyone was trapped in the instant the image was captured on film.

"Able to make direct contact."

Heda tentatively touched a masquerade dancer in elaborate costume. Although the dancer did not respond, the fabric felt delicate and real to her fingertips, impossible to fake.

“And…” the nun said, her nostrils twitching slightly.

"Without exception, they were all afflicted with the madness of the moon's scorching heat."

She could already smell the faint, pungent odor of pus on the other person, the distinctive scent of necrotic, oozing wounds, and also a characteristic of Moonburn. Clearly, every masked dancer in the museum had undergone a transformation.

The reason for wearing a mask may be to conceal one's distorted and deformed face.

For some reason, the masked dancers in the museum didn't go berserk, or at least didn't show any strong aggressive tendencies. Although these guys were like puppets, in a way... that was a good thing.

According to previously obtained information, the white bunker containing the mechanical god "Logic" is located beneath the museum, but how to get there is currently unknown.

Heda tried to use her architectural knowledge to find the hidden compartments inside the building, but after a brief observation, she gave up.

The museum's interior space possesses a sense of mystery, allowing it to defy the laws of physics to some extent. Some locations that should be the end of a wall still reveal new doors and corridors, leading back to the starting point once you step into them, thus completing a closed loop.

Although it's only midnight left, there's no need to search for the souls of the participants in the End of the Sacrifice one by one, so there's still plenty of time. There are at least five hours until dawn.

Of course, having plenty of time doesn't mean you can waste it. The more you think that way, the more likely you are to get stuck in hesitation and confusion.

"Speaking of which, the waiter just now gave me three names as a clue."

Heda closed her eyes slightly, pondering the three words she had captured when she felt empathy for Jeeves's psychic awareness.

Two: "The Red Demon", "The Priestess of the Sun", and "The Happy Mask Salesperson".

4. They are not merely names, but also represent the corresponding image.

Thirdly, because Haida had deliberately faced the scorching moonlight during her mental contact, her mind was slightly disordered, but it had only gradually calmed down at this moment. This allowed her to think more meticulously.

The three names "Shirt" and "Shan" seem unrelated, but when placed in the current context, they fit together perfectly. A masquerade ball is being held inside the museum, and they are undoubtedly masquerade dancers maintaining specific appearances.

If my deduction is correct, then they should have clues leading to the White Bunker.

5 Just then, Sigrid quickly came to Heda's side.

“Sister Heda, Dr. Fran seems to be waking up. Oh, in her current state… she’d rather call herself Flamel.”

"I know."

Haida nodded slightly, indicating that she understood.

In fact, this nun had far more experience in handling such situations than Sigrid, after all, it wasn't the first time she'd encountered something like this... Of course, she wouldn't mention it.

A moment later, the flush of wine on Flamel's cheeks faded, and his amber eyes opened after a few blinks.

"Well……"

Her lips parted slightly, and her throat muscles spasmed a few times as if she wanted to vomit, but she quickly suppressed it herself.

This guy's current state is best described in one word: "hangover".

"I feel... a little thirsty."

"Have some water."

As they spoke, Haida took out a square bottle containing dissolved glucose from her supply box, shook it slightly, and handed it to her.

Flamel took the jug with both hands and carefully sipped. After replenishing her fluids, her expression visibly relaxed, and her breathing and the rise and fall of her chest became steady.

"Flamel, do you recognize me?"

After the girl returned the water bottle, Haida bent down and asked her a question.

“Sister, I think this is the first time we’ve met.”

Flamel lowered her eyes, her expression showing no shyness, only a slight bashfulness. However, she didn't feel much awkwardness facing the tall nun before her; instead, she displayed an almost fawn-like closeness.

"But you may have seen me in the past, or other incomplete versions of myself."

Her answer made Haida narrow her eyes slightly, and then she continued to ask questions about this topic.

"In other words, you have some understanding of your current true state?"

"Ah."

Flammel Jr. nodded.

“At first I was a little confused and caused a lot of trouble for Sister Sigrid. But in the hazy state after drinking just now, I could feel some fragmented memories of the past gradually recovering... and I began to realize that the figures walking alone in the fragmented scenes were myself.”

As she spoke, memories of her past "complete self" resurfaced in her mind.

Deep space was dark and distant, studded with dazzling stars, the Milky Way like a tapestry. A magnificent ship, adorned with colossal reliefs of holy icons, slowly disintegrated in silence. Intertwined, mottled red and black rust multiplied and spread at a visible rate, covering the hull and ultimately tearing everything to shreds.

In this scene, she is an observer.

Flamel stood quietly before the massive porthole of another ship, his gaze calmly fixed on the scene.

She even yawned rather boredly, as if the distant view outside the window was nothing more than a common pastime.

The deafening roar that should have been deafening fell silent in the vacuum where no medium existed, so that the grand death in the distance was so tranquil, just as flower buds always love to bloom in the silent night.

Yet, the doctor could still hear the piercing screams echoing in his ears. It was the final, powerful resonance of a soul stirred by fear and rage, profound and intense, enough to transcend the inherent constraints of the material universe…

For some time, Flamel had worked as a physician on that ship. She met many people: the taciturn, the anxious, the cautious, and the optimistic.

She witnessed their lives and growth, their joys and sorrows, their pleasures and sufferings, and she also witnessed their deaths.

And she didn't care.