An Error-Purger bit his nails, anxiously watching the scene that defied reason.
"That is a First-Category ritual to summon an aspect of the Red Cup, called [Summon the Drinker]. If not interrupted, everyone in the museum will become sacrifices."
A detached voice rang out.
The newcomer's presence was icy, devoid of any warmth, like the tide beneath frigid seas, giving one only a sense of profound chill.
He wore a winter greatcoat over standard hunting attire and a leather tricorn hat, his eyes hidden in the shadow of the brim.
He was Haida's father, the Burial Primus of the Secrets-Hunter Cult, a notorious fanatic, and the "Chief Hunter"—Ahern Moira.
"Uh, you..."
The Error-Purger who had just spoken, upon seeing Ahern, momentarily felt the thoughts in his mind uncontrollably stagnate, and even a polite greeting got stuck in his throat.
Ahern ignored him, walking straight towards Sines, who was no longer human in form. A massive scythe blade rose from his own shadow and fell into his hand.
(T/N: Gehrman, is that you?)
"It will be over soon."
"You? It's you! You monster..."
Upon seeing Ahern, the eternally playful expression on Sines's face finally shifted. Gnashing her silver teeth, she drove the dwindling blood plasma to coagulate into thorn-like spikes surging towards Ahern.
Ahern did not dodge, merely maintaining his previous forward stride.
But his figure grew lower and lower, as if stepping down a staircase into his own shadow, vanishing into nothingness. The crimson thorns landed on empty air in an instant.
"Alright, embrace death... dancer."
Ahern's voice sounded coldly beside Sines's ear.
He had walked up the staircase from Sines's own shadow! And placed the scythe blade in his hand against her neck...
A simple, unadorned horizontal slash. A bloodied, mangled head fell to the ground with a dull, fleshy thud.
"Cough... Even with the Burial Primus arriving, the ritual is already complete... To be able to serve as an offering, I am still blessed... Await the Plump Moon, lambs unwilling to dance."
Sines's head, lying on the ground, murmured lowly. Soon, the flesh and blood on her body, along with the head, completely withered away.
Ahern glanced at her head, which had crumbled to dust along with the bones, snorted coldly, and stepped into his own shadow.
"Then we'll wait for the Plump Moon. It just means killing once more."
...
This was Vivian's first time seeing the Chief Hunter in action. From his effortless movements, she felt an unprecedented sense of shock... it was pure, unadulterated power.
Sines, a Red Cup High Priestess, had virtually no chance to fight back, defeated and dead the moment contact was made.
"Wait, why did that High Priestess die just from having her head cut off?"
Vivian remembered that Fran had to strip Sines of all her flesh and organs and crush her heart to kill her.
How did the Chief Hunter kill her to dust with one slash?
"That comes from his relic scythe, the 'Decapitation Throne.' Its effect is that whoever has their head severed by it will die."
Upon hearing Fran's answer, Vivian narrowed her eyes slightly, thinking to herself that this effect was really... straightforward.
"Hmm... 'Die' isn't quite accurate. It should be 'utterly extinguished.'"
Fran helpfully supplemented the answer for Vivian. As she spoke, she subtly touched the suture lines on her own pale neck.
"On this point, Dr. Fran is correct."
Haida glanced sideways at Fran. She seemed to know her father quite well... which was not necessarily good news.
"Since it's confirmed that the other half of Sines is dead, I should head back to the clinic as well. Oh, if Sister Haida is willing, we could go back together and finish the subsequent surgical treatments..."
Fran gently rubbed her palms together, enthusiastically inviting Haida.
She had only performed the first four surgeries on the sister last time, and had been thinking about finding an opportunity to complete the follow-up procedures.
"Thank you for your kindness, but it's not necessary for now... I'm still adapting to my current physical state."
Haida took a slight breath, politely declining Fran's offer.
After the last "treatment," her physical strength and endurance had undergone a qualitative leap. Feelings of fatigue seemed to have vanished completely, and even her wound healing speed had become extremely fast... almost like a humanoid evil spawn.
She still needed some time to adapt to the changes in her body.
"Hmm... A patient's willingness to accept treatment is also within my considerations. Please proceed at your own pace, no need to force yourself. When you're ready to complete the follow-up course, feel free to contact me."
Fran didn't mind the rejection at all, as it was entirely expected. Girls, after all, are always a bit more reserved about such things.
She gave Haida a charming little wink, then walked towards the nearby restroom.
The door opened, revealing a space already filled with thread-like, hazy, turbid mist.
Vivian and Haida watched as she disappeared into the mist within the doorway, both silently refraining from speaking for a moment.
Ultimately, Vivian broke the silence: "Sister Haida, let's go downstairs and prepare the wrap-up. There are too many witnesses this time; just the aftermath will probably take three or four days..."
"Mm." Haida was the first to descend the stairs to the second floor, ready to handle the handover work for the cleanup.
The White Cup Cult had more expertise in matters of consciousness; they could handle the witnesses' psychological issues. Erasing these memories, or adding a cognitive filter... to prevent today's exhibition visitors from being left with too severe trauma.
But this would be a massive undertaking. Thankfully, it was the White Cup Cult's responsibility.
Vivian felt fortunate about that.
——
Fran took off the Burial Attendant's nun habit and placed it in the laundry basket. Then she changed into her loose-fitting doctor's coat.
Although wearing different clothes from time to time was fun, in the end, this one was the most familiar and comfortable.
The interior of the Burial Chamber nun's habit was leather armor with embedded hardening plates. The inner lining was designed with many magazine pouches and even had devices for automatic injection of medications during combat... Strictly speaking, it was a "protective garment" for combat.
Since the Secrets-Hunters' standard equipment almost never leaked out, it was also a rather nice collectible for Fran.
"Although I had suspicions, I didn't expect Ahern to actually come... I thought only that dancer would show up."
Fran lowered her eyes slightly, feeling a bit regretful.
She had originally wanted to test the "Far Caress" Abyssal relic and maybe collect Sines as a specimen... She actually quite liked this dancer. But since Ahern had begun the hunt, it wasn't appropriate for her to interfere.
This fanatic never left survivors, and those whose heads were severed by the Decapitation Throne also had any possibility of resurrection cut off.
Although for Fran this wasn't completely incurable, it would require a certain cost... Doing that for a non-essential collectible was clearly not worth it.
"However, before she died, Sines said, 'the ritual is already complete, await the Plump Moon.' She probably intends to stir up some trouble again in June. But by then, my second cross-world house call for this year should be coming up soon..."
Fran sighed lightly, a hint of hunger rising. She suddenly remembered that besides a piece of pineapple-flavored pizza, she hadn't eaten anything else today.
"System, can you order takeout for me?"
[I'm sorry, dear Dr. Fran. This function module is currently unavailable.]
….
Fog Street Clinic, living room.
"Oh, little one, you're so pretty... but, how did you get in?"
Fran interlocked her fingers, maintaining her usual professional smile, but her amber eyes held a touch of surprise.
This sudden "guest" was indeed somewhat unexpected.
Standing before her was a small, entirely white deer, seeming somewhat unsteady on its feet, its little hooves occasionally slipping.
Its coat was soft and lustrous, clean, a frost-like pale white. The patterns on its body were like scattered, faintly glowing stars, possessing a dreamlike brilliance. Its long, branch-like antlers had a crystalline, translucent quality, seemingly made of glass.
"Maa!"
The little deer was clearly very wary of the human before it. It bleated once and hobbled back two steps.
"Probably a dream creature, but a species I haven't seen before... How rare."
Fran carefully examined the trembling little deer. After a brief appraisal, she confirmed that this little fellow didn't correspond to any deer species she knew.
Even among the various alien species from other worldviews, none completely matched its characteristics.
[Dear Dr. Fran, this month's Monthly House Call has been triggered. The consultation target is 'Glazed Fawn'—'Luyala.' Please begin treatment as soon as possible. The target is expected to flee while injured in 30 minutes.]
"So it was you who let it in..."
Fran's eyes took on a look of understanding as she glanced at the dark, swirling mist within the doorway.
April's Monthly House Call came so early, while May's was triggered almost at the end of the month... What a rollercoaster, addicted to torturing your doctor, aren't you?
"Maa!"
As if sensing Fran's probably not-so-good intentions, the fawn bleated again in warning.
"Alright, stay quiet, dear patient... You can barely stand steadily, so behave."
Fran soothed the fawn as if it could actually understand her.
"As you can see, I am a doctor. Next, I will conduct a comprehensive examination of your body and then treat your illnesses and injuries. Please cooperate, alright?"
"Maa!"
The fawn remained wary but seemed to soften its stance a bit; it stopped retreating.
Seeing the other party show a willingness to cooperate, Fran naturally wouldn't miss the opportunity.
She slowly moved to sit beside the fawn, soothingly stroking the soft fur on its spine to help it calm down a little.
That's when Fran noticed that the skin on the side facing away from her was already a bloody, mangled mess, rotting to a near-black color, with glimpses of organs wrapped beneath the ribs... Within the exposed muscles, one could even see worm-like squirming.
No wonder she had faintly smelled decay earlier.
"To remain conscious and standing with this level of physical damage... Your species must be very resilient. Of course, your will to survive is also commendable."
Fran's expression was calm and focused.
As if appreciating a work of art, she meticulously observed and deconstructed the vicious tearing wounds on the fawn's torso.
"Far Caress."
The black, bracelet-like tentacles on her wrist shot out without warning, abruptly wrapping around the fawn's limbs and neck, firmly restraining it to the point where it couldn't even make a sound.
It was clearly startled by this sudden turn of events, its eyes filled with terror, struggling incessantly, its despair almost palpable.
Fran leaned close to the fawn's ear, covered in pale down, and explained as if to herself.
"I know you're scared, but please restrain yourself. I don't want you to experience delirium or hysteria before the surgery. This is just a necessary immobilization measure."
Although Fran was trying to soothe the fawn's emotions, the flush rising on her pale cheeks and the barely suppressed joy in her words...
Indicated that this individual was already itching to begin the treatment.
"This might hurt a bit next. Endure it. This surgery will take quite a while..."
——
Inside Fran's private operating room.
Her medical kit lay half-open, neatly displaying over thirty different types of standard surgical instruments, most already stained with blood. Several of the quartz vials storing medications nearby were empty.
Data flickered on the surrounding life-support monitors. Fran was somewhat slumped, leaning against one of them.
She had already removed her medical mask, her pale pink tongue panting incessantly.
"I declare, this is the surgery with the highest gold content this year."
Before starting, she truly hadn't imagined this little fellow's condition could be so tricky.
First, unfamiliarity with this species forced Fran to proceed with extreme caution, treading on thin ice during the surgery. What if it had something like a Fire Sac and Poison Gland like a Rathian? One wrong cut and things would get interesting...
Second, the malignant infection on its body had not only eroded the flesh but also seeped into the organs and throughout its limbs and bones, carrying an extremely high mystic tier.
The wounds and rot lingering on the body seemed like parasitic entities with independent consciousness, even forming some kind of living nest. During the surgery, it actively attacked Fran more than once.
But this was Fran's operating room... She had never failed on her home turf. Forget a deeply ingrained corruption; even if it meant dissecting a god, she would still dare to put it into practice.
Fran let out a comfortable sigh, then straightened up, no longer leaning on the monitor.
She lightly raised her wrist. The black tendrils wound around the fawn suddenly contracted, reforming into a bracelet.
"Although I tried to anesthetize you and apply psychological suggestion, you couldn't fall asleep... Is it a racial trait? How interesting. Since fatigue and pain are unavoidable, you have no choice but to accept them..."
"This is the price of living."
The fawn lay on the operating table, covered with a sterile drape, its eyes opening and closing repeatedly, seemingly utterly exhausted.
The vicious gash on its side, which had exposed its entrails, was now completely closed, turned into several rows of black sutures with locked edges
++++
T/N: Hey readers~! New Translator here! Before I say anything, I'd first like to thank the original author for creating this wonderful story. Without them, I wouldn't have the chance to share this adventure with you. I hope my translation does justice to their work, and that together, we can enjoy this story.
With that said, I'm happy to let you know I'll be uploading daily chapters. And for those who wish to support my work and gain early access, I've set up a Patreon where advanced chapters will be available.
[email protected]/PeakTL