At Hisham Psychiatric Hospital, Haida was in a deep sleep most of the time, and even when she intermittently woke up, she had no self-awareness. She was either frantically scribbling text or staring fixedly at a spot in the shadows, sinking into a deathly silence.
Requests like "I want to go for a walk" sounded like heavenly music to Ms. Marian's ears, leading her to agree without the slightest hesitation.
Supported by Marian, Haida gradually made her way through the corridor stairs and main hall, arriving at the flower-filled courtyard.
It had been too long since she wore a skirt, making it difficult to adjust to the cool sensation under the soft hem. Although the standard-issue nun's robe for a Burial Attendant also had a hem, it was worn with pants underneath for ease of movement...
"Huff."
A pedestrian reading a newspaper with a pipe in his mouth, a vendor hawking trinkets, a distributor handing out booklets, and the constant flow of carriages and horses...
The street before her was so familiar, nearly identical to the Norlington in her memory. This world seemed no different from the one she had known, except for the absence of evil spawn and secret cults.
Haida slightly closed her eyes, standing quietly in the courtyard for a long time.
She faintly perceived a clue, but could not clarify it no matter how hard she tried.
A strand of danger quietly sprouted from deep within.
Being in the game blinds the player. Perhaps my thoughts have already been eroded by those unfamiliar memories without me realizing it. Perhaps all the sense of integration and stability I feel now originates from this girl from Hisham Psychiatric Hospital...
Haida initially thought time wasn't pressing; she could first collect information in detail before making plans.
But given the current situation, she had to take action immediately, otherwise she might no longer have the chance.
"Ms. Marian, I'm a bit tired. Could you help me back to my room to rest?"
"Mhm, you little sleepyhead. You do need proper rest."
As she followed Marian back across the threshold of the residence, the solemnity in her hazel eyes momentarily vanished.
It was replaced by a faint, almost lazy smile, remarkably similar to a certain doctor's.
—If it were Fran facing this situation, what would she do?
Haida didn't know the answer, but she could, to some extent, simulate Dr. Fran's personality model using her talent for profiling.
Even if the simulated personality was incomplete, possessed certain flaws, and would greatly increase her mental burden... Psychology was one of the few abilities not yet affected.
"~"
Haida lightly sniffed the faint, lingering fragrance of incense in the house, then keenly surveyed the furniture and décor of the entire main hall, a faint smile curling at the corner of her lips.
In silence, she returned to her bedroom.
"Haida, if you need anything, just call me. I'm always here."
After tucking Haida, who had lain back down, under the comforter, Marian casually picked up the tray of food left on the nightstand, gently closing the door as she left the room.
Wrapped in the blanket, Haida at first tightly pursed her lips, as if holding something back—it was a surge of morbid, frantic laughter.
She very much wanted to laugh out loud unrestrainedly, but to avoid alarming Marian, she could only suppress it.
So absurd! So ridiculous! The influence on her was practically terminal, yet from start to finish, she hadn't felt the slightest sense of incongruity.
She stretched her limbs freely on the bed, to the point of looking somewhat unladylike.
She should have realized it the moment she stepped into the courtyard. The reason this large house felt so familiar was because it came from North District 11, Red Pheasant Street, Building 131.
That was Ms. Solani's residence...
How could there be hawkers, peddlers, and evangelists outside a high-class residential area? That was clearly a scene from the North District marketplace, yet now the two were unreasonably combined.
And the incense in the house, though faint and almost imperceptible, distinctly carried the scorching scent characteristic of Attilan.
And more! The white porcelain cup Ms. Marian used to serve her milk was absolutely identical to the skull cup Solani had crafted using the [Flesh-Shaping Ritual].
Even if this were truly some reflection of her own world, there should be absolutely no reason for Yvonne's name to appear here. She, who had already left the Lands Between for the dark star clusters, should have no connection to Norlington.
Everything was chaotic and jumbled, stitched together in a seemingly harmonious state.
The truth thus became obvious—this place was pieced together from her own memories. Was it a dream, an illusion, or some kind of localized relic contamination?
"Cough, cough..." Haida coughed violently, her previously maintained professional smile gradually twisting.
Her mind had reached its limit; maintaining Fran's personality model any longer would cause her to sink into it.
"Even though I know this place isn't real, I have no means to leave... Do I have to eliminate everyone?"
Tap, tap.
Just as the weakened Haida was contemplating her next move, she heard two tapping sounds from within her suitcase, like light knocks of knuckles.
The light, rhythmic tapping continued persistently, seeming full of patience.
Haida threw off the covers and gently slipped her slender, bare feet into soft slippers.
She tried her best to move silently. But because her body was too weak, she had to crawl along the floor, almost on her hands and knees, to reach the suitcase covered in crayon graffiti.
Simulating Fran's personality had brought on intense aftereffects, worsening Haida's already poor condition. If she tried to stand up, she probably wouldn't last a moment before collapsing on the spot.
A distance of less than two steps felt as long as an entire century to Haida. After a few failed attempts, she finally managed to undo the latches of her suitcase.
A nimble little thing shot out from inside, seeming to have been stifled.
Haida focused her slightly scattered pupils, looking closely... standing before her was a hand covered in suture lines.
Judging by the slender fingers and pale skin, it belonged to a woman. The hand was currently standing on its index and middle fingers, like a little person.
It even poked Haida's cheek with its pinky finger. No one knew what kept this thing moving after being separated from a body.
The smooth nail of the pinky finger brushed against Haida's cheek, making her feel a bit ticklish.
But soon, Haida understood its intention. The characters it traced combined to form a word representing a name—"Fran".
Actually, based on its features, it wasn't hard to guess whose hand this was.
"Dr. Fran, is that you? But... why are you only a hand?"
"This, place, is, a, dream, made, of, memories."
The hand used its pinky finger to write several words in sequence on Haida's cheek.
Fortunately, using touch to urgently convey information was part of the advanced curriculum for Secrets-Hunters. This allowed her to understand what Fran wanted to communicate.
"I've already figured that out."
Fran's hand patted Haida encouragingly, carrying a strange sense of approval, as if praising her for doing well.
"Your, self-awareness, awakening, further, woke, me, up."
"I, am, only, part, of, Fran's, memories."
For some reason, seeing this hand gave Haida's mental state an inexplicable relief. She mustered a bit of strength, picked it up, and returned to the bed with it.
"Dr. Fran, how can I restore you?"
"I, here, am, only, a, hand. Restoration, not, needed."
Fran's hand wagged its thumb, correcting Haida's misconception.
"We, need, to, leave, together."
"How do we do that?"
Haida immediately humbly sought instruction, and Fran's hand began to explain.
"Find, the, only, real, person, here. Persuade, or, kill."
"So you mean... there's really someone I know here?"
She pondered for a moment, a bad premonition quietly rising.
As Fran kept writing and tracing, Haida gradually became familiar with this scribbling method of communication, and their exchange became smoother.
"Don't be surprised. The creator of this place is one of your acquaintances. But I don't know who it is right now... you'll have to find out on your own."
"Mhm, I understand."
Fran then burrowed into the pocket of Haida's nightgown, carefully hiding itself.
"...Dr. Fran. You're just a hand, without an ear cochlea. How can you hear me speak?" Haida suddenly felt puzzled.
Although she knew Fran's medical skills were beyond her imagination, this was indeed the first time she'd seen a hand that could run, jump, and write on its own.
Oh, actually, back in the Lands Between at Caria Manor, there were also many hands that liked to move around.
But those were products of magic and flesh intermingling, utterly lacking in aesthetic appeal and would melt in fire. Compared to them, Fran's hand was as delicate as finely crafted porcelain.
"You might as well ask how I can think without a brain, or why I haven't necrotized without a heart pumping blood."
Fran wrote this sentence with a hint of chiding, then gave Haida's abdomen a little pinch with no small amount of annoyance.
For most people, conversing consumes mental energy, but for her now... communication was purely physical labor.
"The degree of mental erosion is reflected in your body. The weaker you feel, the deeper the erosion."
"Think carefully. Didn't you feel stronger when you first woke up?"
Haida frowned slightly, remembering the sensation when she had gripped Dr. Flamel's neck. Back then, she only felt the other's body was fragile, as if she could easily crush the windpipe...
"That's right."
"Now that you've realized this world's abnormality, psychological assimilation will no longer continue. Therefore, you will gradually regain your original strength..."
Fran's hand curled up in Haida's pocket, leisurely writing characters with the tip of its index finger, seeming already somewhat tired.
"I'm, after all, just, one, hand, energy, limited, must, rest, now..."
"By the way, one more thing. Haida, it's best to use your profiling talent cautiously. Personality simulation is actually a process of polluting your own mind. If abused, you'll become less and less like yourself."
After leaving this warning, the hand in Haida's pocket ceased movement. Only the constant warmth transmitted through her skin proved it was a living thing, not some psychopath's human body collection.
"Mhm, I'll be careful."
After acknowledging Fran, Haida got out of bed and stood up.
She felt the change in her body.
Although she hadn't returned to being the 1.8-meter-tall Burial Court Mistress of Attendants with two hearts, the feeling of muscular atrophy and the splitting headache in her mind had faded.
That immersive sense of integration was gone. Haida could now only feel the rejection from everything around her, like grit in her eyes, becoming incompatible and irreconcilable foreign objects.
But she rather enjoyed this feeling.
Compared to the previous state of disorienting intoxication, where she could sink into it at any moment... this undisguised sense of rejection made her feel a long-lost sense of "reality".
---
When Marian returned to the main hall from her busywork in the kitchen, she found Haida sitting on the sofa.
Her posture was extremely upright, her spine ramrod straight, completely unlike a frail young girl who had just left a psychiatric hospital.
"Haida? You should have called me if you wanted to get out of bed..."
"The bedroom is very close to the living room, I could walk here myself, Ms. Marian."
Facing the elder she had grown up with, Haida still maintained her respect.
"You mustn't overexert yourself! If you fall and break a bone, you might even need my help to use the bathroom."
Marian smiled warmly, the smile at the corners of her mouth faintly tinged with worry.
"Dinner is almost ready. Come sit down first."
As she spoke, she patted the apron stained with a bit of oil and headed towards the kitchen to bring out the dinner.
"Ms. Marian. How long do you plan to keep hiding it? It's meaningless... I'll find out eventually."
Just as Marian turned her back, Haida's cool, steady voice fell on her ears, causing her body to tremble involuntarily.
Marian's steps halted. Her eyes, once filled with kindness, were now brimming with an indescribable complexity.
"Little Haida, what are you talking about? Are those memories still hurting you? You should have taken your medication before the meal. Wait a moment, I left it in the cabinet..."
She flusteredly searched among the cabinets for the medication Dr. Flamel had given her, but Haida did not stop speaking.
"Do you remember the Secrets-Hunter commandment, 'Concealment is permissible, deception is not.' Ms. Marian... don't lie to me."
"I don't know exactly how this false dreamscape is constructed, but you used the Medical Division's second-category ritual, [Memory Retrieval], as the framework for this world, didn't you?"
"...Sigh."
Marian let out a resigned sigh, finally closing eyes she had been forcing to stay open.
"Not only did you see through the falsehood before becoming fully immersed, but you also simultaneously identified the ritual's conductor... Haida, how on earth did you do it?"
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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