The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 358

Dr. Fran possesses skills and rituals related to mental intervention, as well as the relic "Swinging Heart Bell," which allows her to easily access the thoughts and memories of others. But in her current state, can she do the same? And with herself as the object?

“Sister, I did not pry into your thoughts… but according to the memories of my other self, you show this expression when you are thinking about dangerous matters. Like a predator planning its hunt.”

Flamel lowered his eyes, put his hands behind his back, and looked quite innocent.

In fact, even with the brass pocket watch in hand, she couldn't achieve any mental interference with Heda. The Primarchization surgery's effects on Heda weren't limited to the physical body; they also affected her deeper, more intrinsic nature, including her soul essence.

"I don't care."

Haida had no intention of criticizing a girl who looked like she might cry at any moment, but she was indeed quite curious about what the girl had just said.

"But I'd like to know why you believe this ritual will fail to be replicated in Norrington?"

"Because of the differences in standards."

Flamel spoke clearly and fluently, as if he had already considered how to address this issue.

"The birth of a new zodiac sign is inevitably accompanied by the demise of the old one, just as the old glory will eventually melt into the wax of new birth. The number of individuals who ascend to the final stage of the hidden staircase will always be equal, neither increasing nor decreasing, which is the first and unchanging principle."

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soup!

Chapter Sixty-One: The Body of Union [The Final Sacrifice]

"Apart from this principle, the mere aggregation of human consciousness, within our worldview, cannot approach the threshold of divinity and trigger the ultimate qualitative change. This is an attempt that has been proven to be futile."

Flamel sighed softly, his amber eyes revealing a look that was hard to tell whether it was melancholy or pity.

"Abandoning the physical body is equivalent to denying and severing one's own existence. The illusory mind no longer has anything to anchor itself. Who can say whether the final outcome is transcendence or descent? Even in the process of stepping into the hidden staircase, what is sought is the fusion of matter and soul."

"Therefore, even though the 'logic' of the mechanical god is close to being formed, I still do not believe that this is the right path for humanity."

Hearing this, Haida understood what she was trying to say.

Early inhabitants had experimented with consciousness clustering, but it ended in failure. Flamel himself believed that this was a wrong path leading to alienation, and even with the current impressive results, the ending might still be a grand and tragic one.

Like fireworks, they burst into bloom, dazzling and brilliant for a moment before turning to ashes.

Well... speaking of which, the act of gathering human consciousness through information flow is about exploring inner possibilities, while the ancient people of Baibei's long-cherished wish was to thoroughly understand the operating principles of the material world, that is, to pursue "pure externality." There is a difference in their concepts.

Therefore, worrying that academics with limited knowledge would engage in such dangerous projects is indeed a bit of unnecessary anxiety.

Stopping her thoughts on this matter, Haida paused, then suddenly felt that something was amiss.

When Flamel said, “This was an attempt that has been proven to be a waste of time,” her tone was almost too certain… as if she had witnessed or conducted a similar experiment herself before making this case study.

After a few breaths, Haida brought her increasingly distant thoughts back to the table and turned to look at Sigrid, who was still flipping through paper documents.

The craftswoman has now discarded the documents that have no practical value, leaving only a few letters to examine carefully. Most of them are personal notes with strong subjective intentions; although they do not have a clear theme, one can easily feel the emotions of the writer at the time.

Since the beginning of the ancient, forgotten era, 'progress' has been a distant and unattainable fantasy. We are trapped in ignorance, numbness, and the pain stemming from dullness, yet we are unaware of it at all. Cruel times have torn apart our old, dull skin, and the wounds have made us bleed anew.

Fear forces humanity to confront hardship, and hunger compels humanity to seek change. This is the unavoidable pain of growth, and the inevitable price of progress, just like the black smoke billowing from industrial blast furnaces and cooling towers.

[Rulers ascend the throne, reshape the world order, then decay and corrupt, awaiting the next successor to repeat the same mistakes… In the blind pursuit of divinity by those in high positions, humanity makes no progress whatsoever. Yet, we are compelled to seek refuge to prevent the civilization we have built up to this day from being easily obliterated by the shadows of the gods.]

The opportunity to end all of this is just around the corner.

This is likely the personal notebook of a senior researcher, characterized by its precise and rigorous wording, and almost complete absence of grammatical errors or erasures. However, based on the handwriting analysis, his mental state may not have been very stable when he wrote it.

The latter half of the text clearly shows signs of excessive force, to the point that the paper manuscript is almost completely smudged, suggesting that he was trying his best to control his trembling fingers.

Sigrid put down her notebook, a hint of confusion appearing in her molten gold eyes.

It was clear that researchers had once been present in the white bunker, but now, apart from the patrolling officers and soldiers, there are almost no academics to be seen, and not even a body has been found.

"It's time to leave."

Heda glanced down at her watch; thirty minutes had passed since Sigrid began researching data in the server room.

Sigrid blinked slightly, then gave a deep reply.

"Yes, I've basically finished reviewing the information here."

"Based on the information currently available, the development of civilization in this Liu world seems to have been hindered for a long time by the pursuit of divinity. This stagnation only gradually eased with the arrival of the 'God of Hunger and Fear,' who led the cruel era."

"Some people are not satisfied with or content with the status quo, and they are eagerly seeking new changes. The cruel times have brought progress, but also endless suffering, and the god of machines seems to be the solution they have finally proposed."

Based on a comprehensive review of numerous documents from the entire data center, Ms. Craftsman summarized the historical background of this worldview.

Is the birth of the mechanical god "Logic" an inevitable outcome of the times, a desperate gamble by humanity in despair and suffering, or a self-destructive act destined to have no end?

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White bunker, third level.

The Bremen soldiers patrolling this level would be a thorn in the side of most intruders; although they are still equipped with bayonet rifles and standard weaponry, they don't use them much. Oh, their primary weapon is a flamethrower.

The soldiers' flamethrowers use liquid fuel that can stick to the body or clothing of the person hit and burn continuously. Once an ordinary person is touched by the flames, they will be turned into a charred corpse with screams within a few breaths.

Therefore, Sigrid served as the leader at the forefront of this route.

It must be said that Miss Craftsman displayed an exceptionally significant racial advantage during this quarter's outpatient visits.

As a fragment of the primordial sun, she is able to greatly resist and be exempt from the madness brought about by the moon scorch. At the same time, flamethrowers, which are powerful enough to physically destroy most known carbon-based life forms, are useless to her, even more so than playful splashing of water.

"Um……"

Amidst the bewildered gaze of a Bremen fire-breathing soldier, Sigrid walked straight toward the oncoming torrent of flames, then pierced her own chest with a spear she had casually sculpted.

His human form and sense of self had been stripped away and suppressed; fear was no longer an emotion, but his remaining rationality was completely incapable of comprehending the situation. Fortunately, death was imminent, and he no longer needed to try to understand.

"I still can't stop thinking about that problem."

Having dealt with the last soldier in Corridor 3, Sibalid raised her hand to disperse the flames surrounding her and then voiced her doubts.

Can a shared consciousness formed by the convergence of countless human beings truly create the future?

"I do not know."

Haida shook her head, offering no answer in the form of yes or no.

As a realistic funeral maid, she found it difficult to draw conclusions about situations she didn't fully understand. Moreover, she was currently in a strange and unknown worldview; a methodology that might be absurd in Norrington might be practically feasible here.

It may even be the only solution.

Plants living in fertile rainforests tend to spread their leaves to maximize sunlight exposure, while plants living in barren deserts often shrink their branches and leaves, even transforming them into thorns. It's all a matter of adapting to local conditions.

“I do not wish to interfere with the development of this place’s history unless it endangers my own life.”

This is Haida's opinion.

What she didn't say was, "If a similar situation were to happen in Norrington, I would stop it and eliminate it."

As for Flamel, she did not respond to Sigrid's question, only letting out a faint sigh. She had previously expressed her inclinations, and it was clear that she was not so optimistic about the prospects of the Logic Project.

"despair."

The long corridor had come to an end, and ahead lay an impenetrable darkness, from which only the outline of a slender figure could be slowly revealed.

"You came so quickly, it's a little embarrassing to say, but it was much faster than I expected. I was really impatient."

A woman dressed in a full-body, tight-fitting latex suit held a long whip and made a flippant, teasing conversation.

Her clothes clung to her body, seemingly without any gaps, leaving only a mouth opening, making it hard to imagine how she managed to put them on. Somewhat incongruously, her latex suit featured two rabbit-shaped ears on top.

"He is mentally sound and conscious, with no obvious signs of alienation."

Heda looked at the other person with a sense of novelty, not immediately eliminating them as she had always done. This was probably the closest thing to the concept of "human" she had encountered since arriving in Presville. Zero

"Are you serving in the Bremen Army?"

Without wasting any time, she quickly began communicating with the other person.

Although this guy's fashion sense was rather questionable, one could vaguely sense a certain military quality characteristic of this era. Lu

"Isn't it obvious enough?"

The woman fiddled with her leather whip, a hint of displeasure in her voice.

Heda's next question followed immediately.

"Then you should know that what happened in Preshville was a sacrifice. All the living would be taken from them in the sacrifice, including you and all your comrades. What makes you continue to follow the army's orders?"

The woman curled her lip, her mockery undisguised.

"Sister, isn't your question the answer?"

"The three-day limit of the Final Sacrifice is coming to an end. The new world no longer needs us, nor does it need you. Therefore, this will be our last celebration. It will also be our last chance to dance in this crimson rain."

In the brief moment of this exchange, a colossal creature that occupied the entire corridor emerged from the shadows. Its body was roughly circular, with long, deformed limbs visible on its sides, and a mouth shaped like a ferocious slit in the center.

Most notably, a tank cannon barrel is embedded above its mouthpiece.

Although its exact name is unknown, this thing is undoubtedly a "tank". However, its appearance is really hard to describe. Most people can hardly imagine a living tank made of blood and flesh, and moving on four limbs rather than tracks.

As for the woman from earlier, she was a tank soldier.

The reason she was willing to chat with Haida for a bit earlier was simply to wait for the field tank to come to her vicinity.

"..."

Upon seeing this colossal, iron-gray, fleshy behemoth, Haida's chestnut-grey eyes widened slightly, and the power sword "Nirvana" strapped to her back hummed and vibrated faintly. She felt anticipation, hoping that it would be the first to put up a fight during the hunt.

Even the physical body of "Long Shambhala," who was previously a tormented victim of the new god, was far less resilient than that of this field tank.

Upon seeing Haida assume a fighting stance, the tank crew immediately lashed out with whips at the tank beneath them, issuing commands in a reprimanding tone.

"You idiot, get to work!"

Following this command, the field tank 4¤°≌肆♀∵叁●￡∶&珋′_蒐｀索＾·Q羣‰: immediately emitted a deep, thunderous roar, and then quickly rotated its gun barrel to aim at Haida.

"boom!"

The corridor was dark and narrow. Although Heda still had the ability to dodge the attack, she ultimately chose to take the shell head-on in order to prevent Flamel behind her from being affected.

She leaned against the sword, her figure engulfed by smoke, flames, and shockwaves the instant the shell exploded. Although field tanks were made of flesh and blood, the power of artillery fire was in no way inferior to that of steel.

It's hard to imagine how it works...

Sigrid had already picked up little Flamel and evacuated the combat zone to avoid being hit by shrapnel. Meanwhile, the shockwave from the explosion would cause invisible internal damage to the body's organs.

"Aren't you going to dodge at all? To protect the two people behind you?"

The female tank crew member frowned, somewhat bewildered by the nun's foolish actions. Such blind sacrifice was meaningless; in this final moment of leisure, she wouldn't let any of her precious toys leave this place.

She was clearly quite confident in the power of the tank cannon, and immediately drove the field tank to chase after the two who had just fled.

However, Haida suddenly leaped out from the smoke and dust, and before the cannon barrel could be turned around, the blade of the power sword "Nie" had already severed the forelimb of this flesh and blood behemoth.

"You...are still alive?"

The tank crewman's lips parted slightly, revealing a near-complaining astonishment.

Although the nun in front of her was taller than the average person, and her cold aura was no less than that of the veterans of Bremen who had fought for many years, this was by no means a reason why she could withstand the tank cannon with her bare body.

But in an instant, the tank crewman composed himself, a bright and unrestrained wild smile spreading across his lips.

"How wonderful!"

"Let us make each other more valuable, like blood that nourishes the soil, serving as nutrients for new shoots..."

Under her command, the field tanks drove their remaining three limbs toward Haida.

Haida immediately gripped the hilt of her sword, braced herself, and unleashed a downward slash to meet the oncoming behemoth of flesh.

The sword pierced through the tank's armor and its menacing maw with effortless grace. Blood, organs, intestines, and bone fragments—a fluid mixture of contents—surged violently from the mechanical components. The impact of the behemoth's forward ramming didn't even cause the nun to stumble an inch.

Of course, there was a significant quality gap between the two sides, so Haida instinctively adjusted the activation level of the Black Devouring Dragon's properties during the battle. If observed closely, one could see an ominous, dark shimmering light faintly flowing beneath her skin.

As for the female tank soldier... after witnessing a scene that she couldn't comprehend with her common sense and mystical knowledge, she collapsed to the ground, her body and hands trembling with inexplicable excitement, occasionally letting out a slightly delusional laugh.

Haida walked up to her, raised her hand and placed it on her forehead, forcibly connecting her spiritual awareness to the other's mind.

-4

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soup!

Chapter Sixty-Two: The King in Yellow [The Final Sacrifice]

The old gods no longer dwell on the earth; more precisely, they have left this world.

What people can see are merely the lingering shadows, or traces, of those supreme, sublime, and incomprehensible things. And even these ethereal traces contain a power as inviolable as the laws of nature.