"That's correct."
Fran was quite satisfied with his quick response and proceeded to use her fork to spear a relatively intact piece of liver to explain.
"Let's take cattle as an example. The lobes of a cow's liver are not very distinct. Starting roughly from the incisure of the round ligament, it can be divided into three main lobes. Furthermore, from the visceral surface view, it generally appears as a flat oval shape and is somewhat enlarged…"
Her voice was unhurried, speaking in a detailed and methodical way, making Davis feel as if he were listening to a professor lecture.
"Human liver is slightly smaller. Structurally, it can be divided into 4 lobes; by liver segments, it's 5. Also, the organ overall presents a wedge shape."
"Wedge shape?"
Clearly, Davis knew next to nothing about the medical field. He looked utterly confused, even feeling an urge to take notes.
"You can think of it as an irregular triangle."
Fran explained quite thoroughly. When discussing knowledge within her professional field, she was always this patient.
"Hmm… indeed it is."
Although Davis wasn't very familiar with wedge shapes, he did know the general shape of a liver.
"We should thank Mr. Krul for cutting this liver into such large slices. Otherwise, explaining with this simple structural anatomy common sense would have been more difficult…"
Fran held the speared piece of "beef liver" out in front of Davis, then spoke quietly.
"Look, beneath this slice, isn't there a nice wedge-shaped corner?"
"Yes…"
The moment he answered, a chill ran up Davis's spine from the base.
Although he had prepared for the worst before entering the room, seeing a real human liver cooked and served before him still made it hard to suppress the fear and revulsion in his heart.
So that meant the "lamb ribs" on the other plate…
If not for the medicine suppressing the abnormal spasms in his stomach, Davis probably would have already vomited everything out.
He remembered the lamb chops served at tonight's manor dinner looked almost identical to these. Could it be that… he had already eaten it during the dinner?
"Are you thinking about the dishes from the dinner? That, you don't need to worry about."
Since Davis's emotions were practically written on his face, Fran easily guessed his thoughts.
"The ribs served at the dinner indeed came from sheep. It's normal you couldn't tell the difference… After roasting, the differences aren't very pronounced to begin with, and human and animal ribs are structurally quite similar; the distinction lies more in size."
"I ate the dinner dishes myself; are you still uneasy?"
Hearing Fran's words, Davis's slightly greenish complexion visibly improved a lot.
"That's true…"
Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that this doctor could probably eat any kind of meat without batting an eye.
Just then, Krul, who had been silently standing by, walked to the table, his gaze showing hints of anger.
"You two guests… Why haven't you started eating yet? Do you have a problem with me, or is the food not to your taste?"
Honestly, Davis had thought Dr. Fran's almost arrogant "lecture" would anger Krul from the start, but he hadn't expected him to wait so long before reacting.
But that moment had finally arrived. How would she handle it?
"Chef, I am not satisfied with your dining etiquette."
Fran looked at Krul without fear, then sighed quite seriously.
"As the chef of Hanover Manor, the plates were cold when you served the dishes. I am very disappointed. Does His Lordship the Count usually eat such things? Dishes that don't meet standards aren't even worth a single bite."
"Take them back and heat them again."
As she said this, a perfectly-timed hint of disdain flickered in her amber eyes, like a discerning connoisseur.
"Oh… My sincere apologies, this was my negligence…"
For some reason, looking at the other's attitude, Krul truly felt he was at fault. He picked up the plates somewhat confusedly and took them back to the stove to reheat them all together.
The fire was rekindled. Soon, the dishes along with the plates were heated.
"Ma'am, done as you requested…"
Now, his tone had changed slightly. The fierce feeling was no longer obvious; instead, he sounded like a chef hoping for the diner's approval.
Just as Krul was carrying the four plates back to the table, Fran swiftly drew Haida's Secret-Hunters standard-issue pistol.
Without warning, she pulled the trigger, firing a shot into his left leg.
Bang!
The secret art bullet etched with the Secret-Hunters' prayer sparked a brilliant blue flame on his leg. Krul's body violently staggered.
"Hmm~ Just remembered, I'm on a diet today. No meat for me."
The sudden gust of wind from the gun barrel lifted a corner of Krul's chef's apron, revealing his legs below.
One could see his left leg was still intact, but the right leg… was a stark white bone.
This was why he walked with a limp, and also the source of the "roasted pork knuckle" on the menu.
After uttering that last line, Fran quickly got up and left the room.
Her steps were agile and light, almost vanishing in the blink of an eye. Davis hurriedly followed, afraid of being left behind in the room.
As for Krul, with his only functional left leg shot, even if he wanted to give chase, he was momentarily incapacitated…
Simultaneously, his mind was somewhat dazed. It was only after the two had completely left that the feeling of anger belatedly began to rise.
"Was everything you just did… just to mock me?"
Several black veins bulged on Krul's forehead. But now his left knee was shattered, making his steps out of the room somewhat unsteady…
—
Perhaps because she had reverted to a young girl's state, Fran ran with exceptional lightness. However, she deliberately slowed her pace to prevent Davis behind her from falling behind.
After making a few turns in Hanover Manor's complex, deep and winding corridors, she suddenly stopped. Then, methodically raised her hand to tidy the slightly messy braid by her ear and the collar of her silk gauze dress.
After all, Krul had already removed all the meat from his right leg for meal prep, becoming a "cripple," and his only remaining good leg had just suffered a precisely aimed shot to the knee.
For a normal human, this would be a "fatal injury" that would have him spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair…
For a short while, he absolutely had no chance of catching up.
"Huff, huff…"
Seeing Fran had stopped, Davis leaned against the wall with one hand, catching his breath on the spot.
As a somewhat experienced folklorist who frequently traveled between remote villages and wilderness, his stamina wasn't bad, and he didn't feel tired now.
But he had received too many frights today, making him somewhat unaccustomed to sudden strenuous exercise.
"Dr. Fran, he probably can't catch up now."
After steadying his ragged breathing, Davis glanced back with lingering fear. The originally wide side wing corridor now appeared dim and oppressive under the shrouding darkness, causing fear to quietly grow in one's heart.
"Mmm." Fran nodded lightly, unsurprised.
"Alright, Father Gorn's room is just ahead. Let's go see how he's doing."
The priest's room?
Davis looked up at the side wing guest room before them.
He had been the second-to-last to enter a guest room, so he vaguely remembered the locations of the others' rooms. But after being led around the corridor several times by Fran, his sense of direction had become somewhat disoriented.
After leading them in five or six circles within this maze-like side wing, this doctor could still precisely find Father Gorn's room in the end?
If it were broad daylight, Davis could probably barely manage this level of navigation himself. But now it was deep into the night; within the vast manor, there were only a few faintly flickering candle lamps, making route recognition very difficult.
"Dr. Fran… why did you suddenly shoot Krul back then?"
Before entering the priest's room, he voiced his doubt.
"Mr. Davis, that's not a smart question, you know?"
Fran raised an eyebrow slightly, hooked her index finger around the trigger guard, and twirled the Secret-Hunters pistol in her hand.
"If we didn't leave then, did you really plan to eat the 'food' he made? Krul's room was full of blood and minced meat stains. In such a filthy and disorderly environment… who would have any desire to eat?"
"For a cook who can't even guarantee kitchen hygiene, I deeply doubt his skills."
Fran responded to Davis deftly, then raised a hand to cover a yawn.
Although pulling all-nighters was practically routine for her, this little girl state seemed especially prone to sleepiness.
Hey, among the reasons for not eating Krul's cooking, "it's human meat" wasn't even mentioned?
Davis vaguely sensed that this doctor's thought process seemed to differ a little from a normal person's. But this trait on her… wasn't entirely inexplicable. After all, the line between genius and madness is often thin.
Even before this, he had heard that this renowned doctor was an "eccentric." Seeing her now confirmed the truth of that view.
"That, Dr. Fran… is Krul really already dead?"
Davis recalled how Krul had looked chasing them out of the room, his gaze somewhat complicated.
His relationship with this navigator wasn't simply one of "coercion"; there was a certain special connection. That was precisely why he had ultimately forged his mentor's letter to enter the manor.
Although during that transoceanic storm, Krul had committed acts of the utmost cruelty imaginable, he had, after all, allowed him to survive.
And the answer to the earlier question really needed no further elaboration.
A living person absolutely could not stand up with the meat of one leg completely removed and the other leg shot. He had already been turned into some kind of "monster" by this manor.
"Yes, he is dead." Fran confirmed this view.
In fact, she had reached this conclusion the moment she first saw Krul. That was also why she had said Krul's walk was "unnaturally light."
Because all the ingredients for the dishes on this navigator's menu came from himself. Liver, brains, lungs, elbow… The "he" in the room was merely a fleshy shell that didn't yet know it was dead.
"The reason I didn't shoot immediately was mainly to try and find the 'verse' in Krul's room. Also, to observe his mental state in more detail."
Fran explained with a calm expression, then raised her hand to prepare to open the priest's room door.
At that moment, she heard sounds coming from inside the room.
"Oh… Demon, leave this child's body at once!" A heavy panting sound.
"Mr. Gorn, please stop…"
Continuous, uninterrupted fleshy sounds, accompanied by the voice of the Hanover Manor male servant.
"Don't worry, child, I can feel it, the demon will soon… soon be expelled…" The priest's trembling voice.
Fran narrowed her eyes slightly, her hand movement pausing momentarily.
Maybe it was his imagination, but Davis seemed to see the smile at the corner of this doctor's lips stiffen slightly, then pull outward a bit, before returning to normal moments later.
"That, if it's inconvenient here, we could go to Ms. Tamesis's room first…"
Concerned about disturbing Father Gorn's "business," Davis made a suggestion to Fran.
"No." Fran shook her head lightly.
"Actually, I am somewhat curious about what's happening inside."
Curious? There's no need to explore something with zero suspense, right? And watching such indecent scenes can give you styes… Davis very much wanted to answer Fran like that, but ultimately held back.
"Davis, don't be misled by the surface appearance of things."
Fran's voice sounded quietly.
Unnoticed, when addressing this folklorist, she had dropped the "Mr." suffix. Her tone was more like teaching a not-so-bright student.
"For a folklorist, observational skills are crucial. And when you observed the dollhouse in my room, you overlooked a very important factor. Didn't you notice? The completely identical male servant ceramic figurines… there were actually two."
"This…"
Davis had indeed seen multiple male servant figurines back then but hadn't paid much attention.
After all, this was a count's manor; even having a hundred servants wouldn't be strange.
But Fran had indeed carefully compared them. Those two exquisite male servant ceramic figurines had no differences whatsoever. Even the position of the mole on the neck was exactly the same.
"In other words, the servant in Gorn's room is an illusion?"
+++
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