The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 364

After cutting the steak into pieces with a knife and putting them in his mouth, the inchworm answered Elsa's question.

"In practice, I was the screenwriter, director, and dancer all."

“Oh…Miss Haliel, you mean you planned this ballet entirely?”

Elsa's eyes widened slightly, naturally revealing her surprise.

The inchworm swallowed the perfectly grilled pork chop and then gave Elsa a disgruntled look.

"What, do you think that dancers' level of education is insufficient to support anything other than physical labor?"

"No, I mean, what I want to say is that you accomplished so much work all by yourself, including historical research, personnel coordination, artistry, and stage effects... it's truly amazing."

Elsa quickly waved her hand to explain, worried that the other party would misunderstand again.

"There's no need to explain this point. Most of the dancers who appear in Norlington are indeed poorly educated. The dancers of the Red Cup are a prime example... They never think about transformation, sublimation, or the choice between old and new forms. They simply see dancing as a means to enjoy pleasure or pain."

"In fact, in the Lost Age and even more distant eras, the Crimson Cup Cult did not have a dancer branch at all. Ironically, nowadays, most people think of dancers first when they talk about dancers."

In fact, Elsa's words and attitude never offended the inchworm. The reason he acted coldly was simply because he didn't want this identity to become too deeply involved with his student.

However, since there's nothing else to do tonight, satisfying the little girl's curiosity won't hurt.

Before the inchworm could even stick up the second pork chop, Elsa's problems began to pile up.

“Miss Heliel, could you tell me about your process of creating ‘Under Naurmaran’? And the allusions you chose… I majored in history and am very interested in this area.”

"Yeah."

The inchworm nodded slightly, then began its account in an orderly fashion.

At the same time, he consciously used a different demeanor and tone than when he was lecturing, reducing the seriousness of the research and making it more like casual conversation among peers. It also carried a touch of the smugness of a young performing artist.

"First of all, the Xingyuan Society had previously choreographed a similar dance drama, but its main subject was the 'Tide Listeners,' which aimed to depict the Tide Listeners' resistance against the Heir invaders... Its essence was the beautification of themselves by those in power, as well as a distortion of historical truth."

“I have always wanted to reconstruct this ballet with real history, and I only recently completed it.”

"In short, this is a story of seeking unity only to be betrayed. Faced with Hyel, who brought prosperity to Morion by curbing the curse of the full moon, the Tidecallers tore up their oaths, waged a war of annihilation, and seized victory dishonorably and undignifiedly."

"Therefore, I chose an unnamed Heyer as the subject of this ballet, to show the audience 'beauty' as much as possible, and the sense of utter devastation after beautiful things are violently torn apart."

Upon hearing this, Elsa clasped her hands together, her eyes shining with joy, making no attempt to hide the approval and hope in her expression.

"I see……"

“Miss Haley, you are more knowledgeable than I imagined, but… how did you come to know this history? I imagine it would be quite difficult to find documents in Gormouth that haven’t been modified by the Star Abyss Society.”

The inchworm pursed its lips, answering her question rather casually. 6

"First, read more books."

"If you can't get them through legitimate channels, then look for them through less legitimate, gray channels, using every means at your disposal to acquire them. Then spend all your time outside of eating, working, and sleeping reading them."

"Secondly, we must abandon prejudices against document types."

"The revised edition of the Star Abyss Society is not entirely without merit. As long as it does not involve the Listeners of the Tide themselves, the other contents are generally objective and much more detailed than the ancient records with their vague wording."

"And then there's... a bit of luck. The upheaval in Gormouth a few months ago revealed some previously unknown secrets to me, which is why the final piece of the 'Under Naurmaran' script was finally complete."

After that, he began to recount the history and culture of Gormouth in a leisurely manner, as if he were a young girl introducing her hometown to a friend.

As a top student in natural history, Elsa was quite interested in such topics, so she listened quietly and attentively throughout.

Besides Gormouth, the inchworm would occasionally mention Atilan's situation.

For example, the dry and hot climate, the scorching yellow sand, the sweet and mellow wines, and the unique dance styles characteristic of Ahanta.

Although her tone remained the same, Elsa had a strange feeling that Miss Haliel seemed to harbor some resentment when she mentioned Ahanta.

The feeling was quite familiar, like when her father was busy with the family business and didn't come home for two weeks in a row when she was a child, leaving only the butler and a few servants to keep her company... This made her feel neglected.

As her thoughts drifted, Elsa remembered something.

"By the way, Miss Haliel, was the fire at the end of the performance also part of the stage setup? Was the fire at the Drowned Theater due to a mistake by the props staff?"

"Do not."

The inchworm denied this guess.

"While the fire that ignited the entire stage perfectly matched the themes of 'war' and 'betrayal' in this scene, it was indeed not part of my planned program. For safety reasons, I will not use such a dangerous prop."

"Something else must have happened..."

Thoughts flashed through the inchworm's mind like an electric current, and the inchworm suddenly felt that it had touched upon a situation that it had previously ignored.

Perhaps the Hermit Lady and the Heir nobleman came to the Drowned Theatre not solely to watch the ballet, but may have harbored other motives. And his own ascension to the fourth tier was indeed much earlier than expected, surpassing even that of a typical Moth Priest.

Could it be related to that unknown "unexpected event"?

This was a question that had no chance of being answered at the moment, so the inchworm could only suppress it for the time being and continue to patiently engage in communication with Elsa.

His main question was why Elsa had a photograph of herself...

According to Elsa, the photo of Professor Inchworm came from the journalism club, where a photo of a charismatic new lecturer or professor would be distributed to every member of the club whenever such a person took office in the history department.

After that, members will begin voting to determine its popularity.

This is truly a student-like way to pass the time.

After letting out a sigh, the inchworm stopped worrying about the matter.

Incidentally, this guy is currently second in popularity among the young lecturers, while the most popular... is teaching assistant Child.

-

-

Soup! (Vote!)

Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Night of the Red Wolf's Trial

The following morning, at the Foggy Street Clinic, in the operating room.

"A consultation with impeccable quality always brings unexpected surprises..."

In front of the operating table that had been temporarily used as a storage table, Fran, dressed in a heavy hazmat suit, looked at the neatly arranged biological remains on the table, his amber eyes revealing an almost radiant smile.

[Fragment of the Dragonmane Conch (from the Abyss)]

Quality: ◎〖≮＝〔□℃！ Search: Flawless

[This fragment comes from the apex predator 'Dragonmane Snail Dove' of the Golden Land, the sixth level of the Abyss. Its tenacious life, for reasons unknown, ultimately ended in its demise, and it ended up here. Yet these biological structures still possess vitality close to their former state, as if death could not completely strip them of their power.]

[Note: "Shh, don't disturb it, it's a real moving natural disaster."]

"The biological material of the Dragon Mane Snail Dove... finally it's not Li Mingqing's strange set. However, my understanding of this type of material is slightly lacking, and I still need to do a few more tests on its properties and physical characteristics."

“Every time I get a corpse that looks like it died in a mess, I have to spend half a day piecing it together myself… Sure enough, I still prefer a living body, where all the limbs and organs are naturally and neatly combined together.”

Fran gently licked the corner of his lips, pondering how this material should be used.

"In terms of physical strength alone, its mouthparts can damage the 'Treasure of Abyss' in the Abyss, making it a feasible direction for weaponry. However, I can use Sigrid, so my need for weapons is not high, and Haida already has the power sword 'Nirvana'..."

"According to some early documents, living dragon-mane conch turtles can exhibit curse resistance due to their obsession. It is unclear whether this trait can be preserved in the remains. Making it into protective gear might be a more suitable direction for the current situation, so let's take this as the first contingency plan."

After sorting and storing the processed fragments of the dragon mane snail, she began to examine the second consultation fee she received this quarter: the unknown secret principle of flawless quality.

[Speculation on the Fog Emblem]

[Quality: Flawless]

[By carrying an artifact or text bearing the inscription "〇", or by having the inscription engraved on the body, one can use the '3 Conjecture Mist' system of esoteric rituals. The ritual will manifest as either 'law' or 'fallacy' depending on the caster's state of mind.]

[Note: "This emblem does not have a fixed physical form. As long as an object meets its requirements in terms of material, shape, and spiritual essence, it can be regarded as a conjectured mist emblem. It can be used for the construction of esoteric rituals."]

[Note 2: "The best materials are amber, dendritic quartz with inclusions, and jade with a distinct fog-like layer. The shape must conform to the characteristic of 'a half-open door in the fog,' and the spiritual quality is most compatible with 'openness.'"]

Although the essence of the Conjecture Fog Emblem is a concept, which can be described as intangible, it still needs a material carrier.

Fran's object was a slightly damp amber ornament, with shimmering mineral crystals that appeared hazy and misty, and the whole piece was carved into the shape of a door.

"This ritual system looks so familiar..."

She narrowed her eyes and tentatively began constructing the arcane model, along with the amber emblem in her hand.

Moments later, Fran cut off the spiritual supply, and the nascent arcane model collapsed and vanished.

She discovered that the secret arts that this emblem could control were essentially a deconstruction of the fog within her own door, and that using it to perform magic was somewhat putting the cart before the horse.

It's like trying to express something that can be easily described in natural language using a programming language; it inevitably leads to some inefficiency.

It didn't take long for Fran to fully understand how the "Mist of Conjecture" worked.

It is a framework modeled after Fran himself, providing rituals for practitioners of this path, much like the Red Cup, the Velvet Moth, the Sunforge, or the God of Hunting. Generally, this is an authority and characteristic held only by deities.

Fran is not a god.

However, the one in the worldview of hunger and fear who usurped the "logic" of the god of machines must conform to this concept. During the operation of the Mystic Mist of Conjecture, that deity is the true server, while Fran is equivalent to the repeater connecting the server and the terminal.

"It seems to have potential for further exploration, but it's not of much value to me personally."

Fran made an assessment of the emblem in his hand.

"But since it is a completely new system of rituals, we can find an opportunity to spread it out when we have time. Perhaps something interesting will happen."

After reviewing his findings from this quarterly rounds of outpatient visits, the doctor stretched contentedly, then walked out of the operating room and removed his heavy white hazmat suit in the transition area.

It's still early and the Fog Street Clinic is closed today, so Si can go back to bed and lie down for a while. Oh, but she needs to figure out a way to get back all the blankets that Luya unconsciously took away.

-

Meredith House, North Norrington.

At this moment, Sinclair Meredith, the nominal head of the Drowning Theatre, was walking slowly through the mansion.

Fourth, his expression and state were quite strange, as if his soul and body had separated, and what was walking around now was just a mindless shell. In addition, he also showed an unusual cowardice, afraid of sound and light, and even the flickering of a candle flame would make him turn around and look at it with fear.

Sinclair walked from the side corridor to the front of Courtroom Zero, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Twelve bronze wolf-shaped statues stand on either side of the hall, crawling and circling, each with a different posture and size, but all strongly displaying the single theme of violence.

They might hold a sword blade in their mouth, or a head in their mouth, or bury their internal organs on the chest of a corpse, or hide in the shadows of darkness beyond the reach of candlelight.

“Sinclair, you’ve never been to Trial Chamber Zero before, have you?”

An old voice sounded.

You could tell the speaker was an elderly man, but his voice was clear and steady, without the slightest hint of hoarseness, and the cold, metallic quality seemed to travel straight from your ears to your brain.

"I……"

Sinclair wanted to answer immediately, but before he could finish speaking, the old man's voice rang out again.

"You don't need to answer that question; I know you haven't been here."

Perhaps recalling some past event, the old man's tone carried a hint of nostalgia.

"...Twenty years ago, this was Trial Chamber No. 1, used specifically to adjudicate the most heinous crimes and those who betrayed their families. But after the 'Trial of the Red Wolf Night,' this place was reclassified as Trial Chamber No. 0 and ceased to be used."

"That night, apart from Yaheng and that lowly little thing he brought with him, no one left here alive."

"It was a long night. For those whose heads were pierced by a sword, the night ended long before death arrived. But for me, that night continues to this day..."

The old man, leaning on his wolf-headed staff, slowly rose from the square chair in the judge's dock and walked behind Sinclair.

Do you know why you were brought here?

"Mr. Tromé, please forgive my stupidity!"

Without hesitation, Sinclair knelt down and kowtowed. If the old man hadn't been disgusted by the excessive performance, he would have loved to smash his forehead against the ground until blood gushed out.

"Stupidity can be forgiven."

"Just like copper and iron full of impurities, if broken and smelted properly, they can still be forged into a tough sword. If they are not sharp enough, they can be used as an axe, a shield, or armor."

The old man, known as Tromé, nodded slowly, then picked up a match, struck it, and lit the brass candlestick beside him.

In an instant, all the candlesticks in the entire Zero Trial Chamber lit up together.

The shattered stained-glass windows, the ground riddled with bullet holes and sword marks, and the headless wolf statue at the center were all fully revealed in this moment of confusion. Although a great deal of time had passed, one could still almost smell the lingering, thick stench of blood in the air.

3. "However, once the mistake has been made, there is no way to avoid punishment."

"Sinclair, you haven't made any major mistakes in your work at the Drowned Theater, but your underhanded tactics are rather clumsy. When did the descendants of Meredith stoop so low as to resort to such despicable means to disgust the Hunters?"

"Six. Just like last year, there were still people who pinned their hopes for reclaiming Norrington on the drinkers summoned by the Red Cup... How can someone harbor such ugly delusions and claim to have the blood of Meredith's wolf?"

Sinclair struck the floor with his wolf-headed staff, the heavy, dull thud causing Sinclair's body to tremble once more.