The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Sigrid looked around upon hearing this, but saw no one else and sensed no spiritual presence.

The calcite room was quiet and dimly lit, with only the shadows cast by the candlelight constantly shifting.

弗兒匛4◇!灵？ ~私♀ˇ弎!々5陆si蒐索￠々:兰 伸手缠着淡白发丝着指数指, 视与有趣的视格丽德。

"You won't find Luara by searching for ghosts. To see her, all you need is a pillow."

It doesn't exist in reality; you can only see it when you're asleep, which means... this patient is a dream creature.

Sigrid then recalled that Fran had once fallen asleep suddenly in the Fog Street Clinic, and when he woke up, wounds from ant bites and burns appeared out of nowhere on his hands.

"Is it the patient from my dream before?"

“Yes.” Fran confirmed Sigrid’s conclusion.

"Luara is a lovely and friendly patient. She's just in her recovery period and has a bit of a sweet tooth. Sigrid can feed her whenever she sees her."

"Hmm...if there's a chance."

Sigrid readily agreed. At the same time, she was also somewhat curious about how a dream creature covered in ants and burning with madness could be associated with the definition of "cute".

Through their time together, she had come to know that Fran possessed a unique set of tastes and aesthetic concepts. While most of the time they were within the normal range, certain aspects... could appear absurd and bizarre.

For example, she can judge which set of intestines is more beautiful, and she can even provide detailed theoretical evidence...

Fran seemed oblivious to Sigrid's quiet grumbling. She rose from the wooden chair, supporting her back, and prepared to leave the Mirror of Enchanting Club.

The fortune teller experience for the month is complete. Mrs. Belinda and Dorothy don't seem to be in the club, so she has no reason to stay any longer.

However, I should say goodbye to Tong En before leaving, as it would be somewhat impolite to go back to the clinic directly through the Fog of the Door.

——越%费∧＠羣】？ ：]°儛¤齐.陆←%四←驷〓∮

Headquarters of the Order of the Hunters, Funeral Court.

Statues of funeral officials from various dynasties stood on either side of the dark, deep corridor. The yellow glow of kerosene lamps flickered in the wind, casting shifting shadows. The plaster statues of hunters seemed to come alive at that moment.

Beyond the corridor lies a spacious and empty secret room.

Rapiers, bone saws, spears, and even sickles were neatly hung on the surrounding walls. Although they underwent meticulous daily maintenance, the lingering scent of blood seemed to still permeate them.

Of course, these are not instruments of torture, but rather weapons that the trial participants may need to use.

Bartley, the trial officer of the General Affairs Court, sat upright in the square chair in the center of the secret room, patiently waiting for today's test subjects.

He wasn't tall, but beneath his crisp, standard hunting attire, the defined lines of his muscles were faintly visible, a testament to his consistent training. Most striking were the gruesome scars covering his face, seemingly the marks of some creature's sharp, fine teeth…

Bartley came from Golmouth, a borderland bordering the Abyss.

In Gormouth, heretics run rampant, and ancient creatures lurking in the deep abyss beneath the icy ocean covet the warm, living flesh on land... Although the nation manages to maintain a basic level of stability, that is all.

Small villages that relied on fishing often disappeared silently. Did they perish from natural disasters, or did they become sacrificial lambs for nameless heretics? No one knew, and no one cared.

This is why there is an old proverb in Gormouth that goes, “He who feeds on the deep sea will also be fed on the deep sea”... It is a sea that eats people.

In comparison, Norrington is almost a fairytale city. Although most people still struggle to make ends meet, at least they don't have to worry about "survival."

"The daughter of the Funeral Minister. She killed four Red Cup Auxiliary Priests, slew the remains of several Red Cup Priests, and stabbed the 'Servant in the Cup'... All of this happened over the course of several months this year. Ah, what an impressive resume."

With a touch of regret, Bartley put down the information about Haida in his hand.

Although he knew about the series of events that had occurred since the "Plum Moon Festival" this year through some archives, he still found it hard to believe. Not to mention an ordinary head funeral attendant, even the combined achievements of a senior manager over decades could not compare to these few simple lines.

Therefore, even though Barthele trusted his colleagues, he couldn't help but have doubts.

He was eager to test his skills against Haida and see if this funeral maid was a fool trying to climb the ranks by relying on her father's reputation... or a hunter who was truly qualified to become a supervisor.

Step, step, step.

The rhythmic sound of the soles of the leather boots lightly touching the ground echoed through the corridor.

Ignoring the faint gazes and prying eyes from the dozens of different chief hunter statues on both sides, Haida walked to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door to the secret chamber.

"Qiang!"

The moment she opened the door, a jet-black meat saw, its blade spinning, flew toward her.

There were no introductions, no greetings or pleasantries. From the moment Haida stepped into the room, this trial for promotion to supervisor had already begun.

"It seems that this trial officer is an impatient person."

Haida tilted her head slightly, passing the blade with a difference of only millimeters.

The meat saw was then driven into the solid wood door panel next to her, penetrating nearly a third of the way, demonstrating the force of its impact.

“Very good!” Bartley laughed almost maniacally. “Very good…”

"What about this?"

He suddenly stood up from the chair, leaped forward, and swung another meat saw at Haida.

Haida didn't bring her power sword "Nirvana" with her on this trip, and of course, even if she had, she wouldn't have used it. That sword, which could be considered a relic, could easily tip the scales of power... When facing her comrades, she still preferred to rely purely on her own strength.

At this moment, the two were only inches apart, and with no way to avoid it, Haida quickly took out her wooden-handled folding knife from under her nun's robe to defend herself.

The wooden-handled folding knife, resembling a ceremonial object, clashed head-on with the heavy meat saw, producing a piercing metallic tearing sound.

Ling's hasty parry and counterattack actually possessed this level of power? So powerful, so formidable...

Feeling surprised that the saw blade couldn't go any further, Bartley also felt a deep sense of joy.

Liu should be this strong, or rather, she must be this strong!

If a hunter who can take the head of the Red Cup High Priest cannot even do this, then he is truly laughable.

With his other hand, Bartley pulled out the meat saw that had been hidden in the doorway and slashed at Haida again.

4. The wind howled, and the black saw teeth made a sharp sound as if they were tearing through the air. It seemed that any flesh that came into contact with them would instantly turn into pieces.

The third one is highly experienced in combat, his attacks are filled with intense killing intent, and his strength is clearly superior to that of ordinary people. This trial officer must come from a dangerous area in a foreign country... While the battle is intense, Haida is also quickly analyzing her opponent.

Neither of them used relics or secret techniques, relying solely on strength and skill to fight to the death. This head-to-head confrontation excited Haida as well.

She felt her blood boiling, and her breath was hot.

"when!"

The clang of metal clashing rang out again, but it seemed different from before... In addition to the metallic hum, there was also a teeth-grinding friction sound.

"you!"

Bartley's pupils dilated suddenly, his eyes filled with disbelief.

In a daze, a folding knife with a wooden handle etched with obscure patterns was already hanging over his neck.

Bartley wasn't surprised by the defeat. He was surprised by... the way Heda won.

She bit down on the blade of the meat saw with her teeth!

In the instant she seized control of her weapon with her molars, Haida used her other wooden-handled folding knife to slash at her neck. In a real fight, her head would likely already be her prize…

The solution is simple yet brute-force, completely outside the realm of common sense.

Although he didn't activate the secret technique [Blood Burning], Bartley had already used his full strength in that strike. An ordinary person trying to bite his weapon would likely have their jaw and head smashed together.

"Did I pass, Trial Officer?"

Seeing the trial officer stop and look bewildered, Haida also sheathed her two wooden-handled folding knives.

Bartley nodded silently, with a hint of lingering satisfaction, but ultimately placed the two heavy meat saws back into the weapon rack.

"Does the victor need the loser's acknowledgment? Sister Heda... If this weren't a test, my head would be hanging on your lap as a trophy right now."

"Without a doubt, you got a perfect score."

"Tribute Officer, there is no need to underestimate yourself. If we each use our relics and secret techniques, the outcome is still uncertain."

Haida responded with a hint of reassurance.

"It's still uncertain? I'm afraid we'll lose even more cleanly and decisively."

Bartley made a self-deprecating remark, his expression turning somewhat forlorn.

"Search*→:，↓4×〃～≥〈俬＿"叁［♀：＜I lost before even three rounds were over. Sure enough, once you turn forty, you'll face a midlife crisis. I guess in another forty or fifty years I'll be as old and unrecognizable as that guy Hei Rong..."

Upon hearing this, Haida narrowed her eyes with a somewhat subtle expression.

"Trial Officer, do you know Supervisor Black Banyan?"

"Hmm. I've hunted with him a few times. Although he's aged rapidly due to the side effects of the 'Death Banyan,' he's still outlived many of his colleagues who died unexpectedly. Is that unfortunate or fortunate?"

Bartley sighed.

"I heard that he withstood the 'Servants in the Cup' during the Plum Blossom Festival and was seriously injured, but it seems he survived?"

"...Yes. He is healthy now."

Haida wasn't quite sure how to explain Hei Rong's current situation, so she could only agree for the time being.

"Ha, if he couldn't even die a heroic death while facing that kind of thing, then it seems that Hei Rong really can only die of old age. I have to find some time to go and see him."

With that, Bartley took a brass ring from a wax-sealed letter and handed it to Heda. It was a token representing the "superior."

"In any case, congratulations on your promotion. You are now the youngest supervisor, Sister Heda."

Reciting the prayer to the god of hunting, Haida accepted the brass ring representing the supervisor and put it on her index finger.

"...I will remain silent and cautious in my words, to uphold the order of the mortal world, to see through illusions and delusion, and to continue the name of the hunter of gods. I will not betray the blood of the seeker, nor will I break the oath of the hunt..."

After completing the promotion process to supervisor, Haida left the trial chamber.

Although the Hunters' Order's official business is always concise and efficient, the handover of authority still requires some time. Besides, she's been frequently visiting Dr. Fran's clinic at the Fog Street Clinic these past few days for checkups... she's been quite busy.

Bartley glanced at the meat saw that had been bitten earlier; a row of teeth marks could still be faintly seen on its forged steel blade.

"If I didn't know that Sister Haida was the chief hunter's daughter, I would even doubt whether she was human or not."

As he was talking to himself, a tall and imposing figure slowly approached.

Alvin, the head of the General Affairs Division.

“My advice is not to define Heda by the stereotype of ‘daughter of the Undertaker’, it’s unfair to her.”

He walked slowly to the square chair in the center of the room, his hands behind his back, and sat down.

"Why? Isn't this an honor?"

Embracing the spirit of asking questions when in doubt, Bartley inquired with Alvin.

“If being a father required taking an exam, Yaheng would definitely fail. Oh, that’s not quite right… he wouldn’t even take the exam; Haida would have a completely blank paper.”

"That... is quite in line with the Chief's habits. Once he starts hunting down evil offspring, he becomes completely absorbed in the process."

Bartley tried, but couldn't picture Yaheng taking care of the child... He always seemed to maintain a terrifying indifference.

"Hedda didn't become a paranoid like her father thanks to Ms. Marian... who almost single-handedly took on all the upbringing."

Alvin's gaze was complex, as if he were recalling some distant past events.

"If she hadn't died, would Yaheng have avoided losing so much of her humanity?"

He let out a barely perceptible sigh.

-

-

soup!

Chapter 85 The Betrayal of the Traitor

"Open your mouth, ah... um, good. Maintain this state."

Foggy Street Clinic.

Heda was lying on a medical recliner in the operating room, her mouth open, as Fran inserted his dental probe and fingers deep under her tongue to carefully examine her molars and alveolar bone.

"A beautiful shape, no cavities, no inflammation or stains, and the gums are a healthy color. However, there are some external injuries..."

"Moderate enamel wear and a slight tear in the periodontal ligament have caused some tooth loosening. Fortunately, your alveolar bone is strong and shows no signs of injury."

"Although both bones and teeth are made of calcium, the two organs calcify in different ways. However, the [bone-strengthening organ] can still promote its self-healing... so there should be no need to use 'remineralization therapy'."

After the examination, Fran took off his medical gloves and then took out his handkerchief to wipe away the remaining saliva from Haida's lips.

"How could anyone think of using their teeth to bite the saw blade? That's too reckless."

"That's the fastest way to win a battle."