The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

The thought of having to write a difficult action report gave him a headache.

Why am I facing such tricky work as soon as I got back to Norrington? I'm supposed to be in the Oceanography Department researching dolphins and whales...

"Thank you for your assistance, Sister Haida. We will send the return gift to the Order of the Mysteries today."

Utus placed one hand on his forehead and performed an ancient white cup gesture to express his gratitude to Haida.

Although the specific details of the incident are still unclear, thankfully Rosalie is not in mortal danger... the worst-case scenario we anticipated did not occur.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just doing my job."

Haida responded with a cool yet humble tone.

"Hmm..."

He glanced at Lloyd, who had fallen unconscious on the ground. Utus rubbed his knuckles, his gaze slightly unfocused, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Ryuta looked conflicted, as if there was something he had to say but found it difficult to bring up.

"Sister Haida, there is something I would like to discuss with you."

Finally, Utus spoke up.

"Please speak," Haida said, guessing what he wanted to say.

"...Could we take this vampire with us? What's in his head is very important to the White Cup Order. We will share this information later and offer a corresponding reward."

When he made the request, Utus felt a sense of relief, but also a slight feeling of guilt.

If it weren't for Haida's intervention, this vampire would probably have already killed Rosalie and escaped. And yet, having done nothing, they were demanding prisoners from her afterward… it certainly felt like ingratitude.

He'd heard that the hunters at Funeral Parlor were very particular about who got their loot... so he was prepared to be refused.

Heda pursed her lips slightly, not answering directly, but turning to look at Fran beside her.

"Dr. Fran, do you need him for your recent research?"

"No need. This guy is very similar to his older brother in terms of material, lacking uniqueness."

Fran shook his index finger, seemingly unconcerned about Lloyd's ownership.

Her purpose in coming here was simply to complete her monthly house call, not to gather more material... not to mention that she didn't think this vampire was any good.

Like chicken ribs, it's dispensable and doesn't meet the standard of being a must-have for collection.

Only after obtaining Fran's consent did Haida agree to Utus's proposal.

“Then he is in your hands, Professor Utus. Although this vampire is currently under hypnosis, please be extra careful during his transport. He possesses a second-class secret technique of the Moon of Rebirth, which allows spirits to escape.”

Aiutus's eyes widened slightly, surprised that things had gone so smoothly, and at the same time, he was somewhat moved by Haida's understanding.

Jiu found it hard to believe that she came from Funeral Home, that godforsaken place known for its madmen and paranoia...

Si said, "Thank you again for Sister Haida's understanding."

Nuutus then let the Exorcist outside the door enter the room to prepare for the later transport of the vampire. At the same time, he also noticed Fran beside Haida.

The doctor's story was only known to Principal Grantham and a few professors; he knew a little about it, but only to the extent that he had "heard of it."

Thirdly, it seems that regardless of whether Fran possesses the legendary medical skills, her status among the Mysteries is probably quite high.

Fifth, when discussing the fate of the prisoners, Haida, who had already been promoted to head of the funeral home, still needed her approval to make a decision... These subtle reactions in just a few words had already quietly explained the order of importance between the two.

Lu Haida didn't say anything more, nodded in acknowledgment, and prepared to leave with Fran.

4. Although she was impeccable in her speech and manners, she was actually quite insecure...

The reason she was here was because she was on her monthly house call with Fran, not because of a task assigned by the General Affairs Department. If she were to actually bring Lloyd back to the Order's headquarters as "prey," it would be somewhat difficult to explain.

Before leaving, Fran came to Rosalie and left her with a word of advice.

Q: "Miss Rosalie, do you remember the first question you asked? Now, I have given you the answer."

My first question for divination is... how can the Moon Clan escape the blood plague?

In a daze, Rosalie felt a sense of doubt. From the fragments of memory remaining in Fran's blood, she clearly only heard a nonsensical conversation.

Just as she was about to ask further questions, Fran and Heida had already left the house and disappeared without a trace.

"Click." Rosalie tried to get up, but suddenly heard a short, metallic sound in her ear.

The sound was crisp and clear, like fingernails lightly tapping the case of a pocket watch... Suddenly, her vision blurred.

Exhausted from the long escape, fatigue from the surgery, and drowsiness from the sudden relaxation overwhelmed her. Rosalie could no longer muster the strength to stay awake; her eyelashes slowly closed, and she drifted into a deep sleep.

……

Several days later, at Norlington South Station, in the evening.

It was mid-November, the transition between autumn and winter, and today wasn't a particularly auspicious day for travel. Therefore, the platform was nearly deserted, and a cool autumn breeze carried a few red leaves, which fell at Rosalie's feet.

She was standing on the platform waiting for the train to arrive, surrounded by dozens of plainclothes exterminators. Having learned from past experiences, the White Cup Order was extremely concerned about her safety this time, and could not afford any mishaps.

Most of the passengers waiting for their trains around them looked on with surprise and began to guess Rosalie's identity.

Traveling with bodyguards of this caliber, is she a young lady of the Meredith family? Or an important figure in some religious order?

With a whooshing whistle, the dark-painted steam train pierced through the gray-white smoke, gradually slowing down before finally coming to a stop at the platform.

Rosalie boarded the train, a strange premonition rising in her heart... she would probably be back here soon.

After all, the new products from "Lark" dessert shop for December have not yet been launched, so she has no chance to verify whether Fran's "kiwi sundae" is accurate.

……

White Cup Order, interrogation room.

Interrogation rooms for ordinary people are usually dark and cramped, designed to gradually erode the psychological defenses of the person being interrogated. But this interrogation room was as bright as day, with not a single shadow in even the corners.

Because the object of its interrogation is a vampire... or rather, the suspect is a member of the Moon Clan tainted by the blood plague.

"You bastards in white cups, aren't you the best at those mind-altering techniques? If you want to know something, just dig out my brain and take a look. Why do you have to go through all this trouble to interrogate me?"

Lloyd was dressed in a leather straitjacket, his major joints pierced with silver nails, and he was unable to move while sitting on a metal chair used for interrogation.

"The secrets of thinking are not omnipotent; true 'mind reading' involves the realm of the gods."

Professor Terence sat opposite him, calmly stroking his white silk gloves.

"Interrogating me is pointless. Didn't that monstrous nun tell you anything? I told her everything..."

Lloyd grinned sarcastically.

"Useless provocation."

Terence's gaze was deep and calm as he stared at the other person.

"You did offer some valuable insights, but you remained silent on the truly important information... Who sent you from the Moon Familia? And who provided you with a set of Hunter's standard equipment?"

"I'm curious, what will you do to me if I don't tell you?"

Lloyd seemed resigned to his fate. After realizing he was under deep hypnosis and that the "Isolation of Body and Soul" had failed, he was prepared to die.

What can threaten a monster that fears no death?

Torture? But how could an undead creature fear physical torture? Even if its head is severed, as long as there is enough blood or a suitable body, it can be restored to its original state.

“I will melt a pot of silver liquid and pour it into your spine through a puncture tube.”

Terence's tone remained calm, but he could hardly hide his anger.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Lloyd provocatively asked nonchalantly.

The White Cup researcher, full of practical spirit, and the vampire with a death wish, the former does not hesitate to break through the tolerance threshold of other races in the most cruel way, while the latter is an ancient creature that has long been adapted to suffering.

Such a professional pairing of attacker and receiver is bound to create a new legend in the world of criminal investigation...si〓san∫∞san￣〗lin∶∩wu％

Just as Terence was about to go and refine a pot of silver, Grantham walked into the interrogation room and patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Terrence, let me do it."

"……Um."

Upon seeing the principal arrive in person, Terence nodded slightly and then got up to leave.

"Are you planning to play that old trick of one playing the good guy and the other the bad guy? Don't waste your time. In the past two hundred years, what kind of battles haven't I seen?"

Upon seeing Grantham's smile, Lloyd raised an eyebrow dismissively.

Grantham remained calm, stroking his meticulously trimmed beard and adjusting his wizard-style pointed hat before slowly and deliberately speaking.

“Jennifer, History major, specializing in antiquities conservation. She graduated last academic year and chose to stay on as a faculty member and join the White Cup Order as an exorcist.”

"Wesley, Mechanical Engineering major, Furnace Core Design. He also graduated last academic year and is also a newly minted refutationist."

He recited the two names as if they were his own treasures, his aged eyes filled with a hint of nostalgia.

“Last year during graduation season, I personally handed them their degree certificates and white cup badges…and offered my blessings. I still remember their excited yet shy smiles.”

"Their lives had just begun... yet, because of a fool who wanted to assassinate his own kind, they were forever brought to a halt in the past."

Jennifer and Wesley...the two Exterminators who were the first to escort Rosalie to the North District border and died on the spot.

Grantham took out an old briar pipe from under his grey robe, lit the tobacco, took a slow puff, and then exhaled the swirling smoke.

“So, Mr. Lloyd, you may try to beg for mercy now, but I will ignore you.”

There was no punishment, nor torture.

Ten minutes later, Lloyd uttered the name of the Marquis of the Moon Clan, Bernhard Murdoch, and he had only one request.

"Please let me bathe in the sunlight..."

-

Foggy Street Clinic, Operating Room.

Heda and Sigrid, dressed in heavy white hazmat suits, were observing Fran, who was intently identifying the unknown raw materials.

If the type of payment is "books" or "technology," then such strictness is unnecessary, but the attitude towards raw materials cannot be taken lightly. If it is something like a virus spreading, then things will become very complicated.

For example, Originium crystal clusters that contaminate living organisms and spread dust, and happy green mushroom people that can thrive as long as organic matter is present...

Fran enjoys solving problems, but despises doing stupid things that invite trouble.

"Oh, it's a high-risk item..."

After some time, the remuneration for this month's house call was finally revealed.

Tomie's hair. (One strand)

【Quality: Excellent】

[Effect: Caution, this product is highly dangerous. Do not apply externally, ingest, or graft it onto your own skin or mucous membranes in any way. If possible, store this product in a sealed container. If you inadvertently become a host, it will heal your injuries in a short time, make you beautiful... and ultimately strip you of your original personality.]

[Note: "Admiring her, possessing her, executing her... these are not contradictory. Each one is a human instinct towards its own kind."]

Seeing Fran pick up something with tweezers, Sigrid narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Dr. Fran, that's... a hair?"

"As you can see, yes. But this is no ordinary hair... it is a dangerous and special hair."

Fran carefully placed the long, black hair into a quartz container and stored it away.

Even though she wasn't particularly afraid of these kinds of parasites, it was still quite annoying when she encountered flowers, plants, cats, dogs...

"This strand of hair comes from a monstrous, rule-based entity. Hmm... or you could say it's an evil spirit with a physical form?"

Fran recounted information about Tomie with great interest.

“沾染上2它的女性会9被逐步4被其同0化侵4占。变得美3丽，5骄纵，并且6得到近乎病4态的魅力。而被魅惑的人会缓慢的产生将其肢解的欲望，这种欲望会随着时间推移变得不可抑制。”

Haida's gaze narrowed slightly as she speculated, "Each piece of the victim's dismembered body possesses the ability to infect and assimilate... That's how it spreads, isn't it?"

She has always had a keen sense for such potential chain reactions of danger.

"Correct." Fran clapped his hands in approval.

At present, this strand of hair doesn't seem to be of much help to her ongoing research. But cells capable of infinite division and specialization will eventually come in handy.

Fran was also quite curious about what would happen if this thing were used in an interactive experiment with chunks of Orc flesh...

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

It's getting harder every day! (Loudly)

Chapter Eighty-Eight: The Lark, an Old Friend