Five days later, Secrets-Hunter Cult, Medicae Hall.
Marian was resting her head on her office desk, her cheek pillowed against a book as she dozed with her eyes closed.
These past few days, she had been tirelessly assisting the Burial Court in rescuing the 15 survivors trapped within the fleshly cradles of the [Birth-Feast Hall]. Not only did she need to perform detailed pathological examinations on each person, but she also had to conduct contamination checks using secret arts.
On top of that, there was a considerable number of corpses requiring various examinations. The workload was immense and tedious.
Ding!
The crisp, somewhat shrill ring of a timer alarm sounded, and Marian slowly opened her eyes.
She patted her cheeks to dispel the drowsiness of waking and tidied her slightly disheveled hair.
Marian had originally intended to freshen up first, but upon glancing up, she noticed Haida sitting on a wooden square chair beside the tea table.
She was neatly dressed in her black, form-fitting nun's habit, hands resting on her knees, posture dignified and utterly silent. Like a meticulously carved plaster figurine.
Judging by her demeanor... she seemed to be waiting for me to wake up?
"Little Haida, when did you get here?" Marian rubbed the beauty mark at the corner of her eye, concealing her tiredness.
"An hour ago."
Haida had come during the lunch break hoping to ask Marian for some information about the survivors, but upon entering, she found her resting. So she waited in the office as quietly as possible.
"Mhm... let me guess, you came to learn about the survivors' conditions?"
"Yes."
In interactions with colleagues, Haida was always direct, never fond of beating around the bush or hiding her intentions.
And Marian's relationship with Haida was more like family; she was naturally long accustomed to her ways.
"If it doesn't involve detailed personal information, there's nothing confidential to hide. Let me think about what's noteworthy..."
Marian tapped her lips with a finger, recalling the relevant information about the survivors.
"Most of the survivors you rescued from the 'Birth-Feast Hall' are residents of the South District, with a few being students from Norlington Central Academy. They all suffer from trauma to varying degrees, and their accounts of their past experiences are quite vague."
"If there's any abnormal condition worth mentioning... it's that they are too 'pure.' Despite being trapped in that heretical nest of interwoven flesh and corpses for so long, there's absolutely no trace of contamination or corruption on either their souls or bodies."
Hearing this, Haida's elegant brows furrowed slightly as she pondered from this angle.
Doctor Fran had also said at the scene, "The seedbeds within the [Birth-Feast Hall] are pure, uncontaminated."
Could this also be some kind of hint or clue?
"Hey..."
Marian walked over to Haida, using both thumbs to press and gently rub her furrowed brow.
"Frowning all the time will give you wrinkles. You've always been like this; whenever you're puzzled, you make this face."
Haida's tightly knit brows soon smoothed out under the kneading.
Marian clapped her hands, looking quite satisfied, and continued.
"Haida. A religion that venerates transcending through bone and blood, ascending through flesh, and discarding all morality and humanity as defined by universal values... what could be pure, flawless, and utterly intolerant of any taint within it?"
Upon hearing this, Haida's grey-chestnut eyes instantly sharpened.
She almost arrived at the answer the moment she heard the question, but she still gave it careful thought before speaking.
"A sacrificial offering."
"Mhm. Judging by the location and specifications of those fleshly seedbeds, these survivors were sacrificial offerings awaiting use. However, without seeing the specific prayer text, we can't determine for which ritual..."
As she spoke, Marian yawned and prepared to leave the office.
"Haida, I have to go to the hospital this afternoon, so I can't accompany you further. I'll compile a document with the details for you after work."
These past few days, Marian had been so busy she could barely keep her feet on the ground. If the visitor hadn't been Haida, she wouldn't have paused for even a moment.
"...Thank you."
Disturbing someone during work hours was clearly impolite. Haida bowed her head slightly, offering an apologetic thanks to Marian.
"Don't mention it. Actually, the survivors mostly just need rest now, and the physical check-ups are wrapping up, so it's not as busy as before. It's just that there were too many unidentified corpses found in the sewers, some autopsies are backed up..."
"Oh, by the way, there are newly bought vanilla cookies in my cabinet. Remember to have some."
Marian waved her hand and hurriedly stepped out into the corridor outside the office.
Haida pursed her lips slightly, falling silent for a moment. She never quite knew how to handle Ms. Marian, who always saw her as a child...
After a brief hesitation, Haida followed Marian's instructions and opened her storage cabinet, taking one box from the neatly stacked pile of vanilla cookies.
—
[Prototype Chimera Spine I (Failed Product)]
[Quality: Ordinary]
[Effect: It utilizes fleshcraft from the Haemonculi 'Black Cornucopians' school, Necron mechanized biotechnology, Rhine Lab (Structural Department STRU) experimental parameters, and Dr. Fran's current genetic programming techniques. (This product is high-risk, not recommended for use. Forcibly implanting it into a living organism will cause mutation.)]
[Note: "Clearly, there is a chasm-like barrier between technological theories from different civilizations and worldviews, making integration extremely difficult. Even she couldn't get it right on the first try."]
Fran looked at the detailed information of the finished product in her hand, chuckled softly with a sigh, and proceeded to disassemble it.
She didn't feel discouraged.
Achieving this level of completion on the first attempt proved there were no issues at the theoretical level. It was just a lack of experience in related fields... In academia, who succeeds on the very first try?
"Was the contraction module for the vertebrae a bit redundant? After all, Haemonculi simply hang their tailbones outside their bodies for walking... But dragging a long tail just feels odd."
Fran extended a finger, rhythmically tapping the desk, producing crisp tap-tap sounds.
Besides practicality, she also had to ensure the product aligned with her aesthetic principles. Some classic Dark Eldar designs were too grotesque; she didn't want to end up looking like something out of a horror movie...
Come to think of it, the [40k Medicine] Fran mastered also included some Ork technology. The parts related to the ancient Orks were relatively normal, but beyond that... nine out of ten things one could create were exceptionally crude and dangerous.
She had once tried assembling an Ork-style vehicle, but ultimately had to stop regretfully at the step of "drawing a dashboard or finding a sticker to paste on."
"Alright, time to start developing Type II. I'll have Sigrid bring my spare arm over later; two hands aren't quite enough..."
After a brief reorganization, Fran began attempting product iteration based on the experience she had accumulated.
—
Norlington North District, evening, twilight.
The originally empty streets were now crowded with pedestrians as several police department spokespersons held a press conference regarding the murder of a city hall official.
"The deceased in this case is Carney Meredith, affiliated with the Engineering Department. His body was discovered with a shattered skull, brain matter spillage, and severe damage to his upper teeth. Based on the on-site investigation, it appears he fell, striking his head on a metal ornament, resulting in accidental death."
"The investigation evidence is clear, the family is emotionally stable, and the City Hall Police Department hereby announces the case closed."
Middle-aged Officer Raymond skillfully delivered bureaucratic platitudes from the podium, surrounded by a circle of media reporters holding old-fashioned cameras and recording devices.
"Officer Raymond! According to statements from mansion staff, Carney was a notorious molester with a history of misconduct. During his tenure, he repeatedly used his position to coerce young men into compliance and even kept catamites... Is this information accurate?"
A female reporter with waist-length black hair raised her microphone, taking the lead in questioning the police spokesperson.
Raymond's eye twitched slightly, a bead of cold sweat silently tracing down his temple.
But after a moment of silence, he answered directly, avoiding the classic "No comment."
"...It's largely accurate."
This case was bizarre.
The Secrets-Hunter Cult, which should have strongly intervened, showed no interest. The Meredith family, which should have reacted fiercely, remained as calm as stagnant water, unhesitatingly discarding Carney without the slightest attempt to protect their own.
Was it an exchange of interests or a covert conflict? Raymond had no idea. He was just a police superintendent; he didn't want to get entangled in the disputes of those behemoths.
"Did City Hall conduct any investigation into Carney prior to this? Why did they only react after his accidental death and the exposure of his crimes? Did the Meredith family provide him with protection for his previous actions?"
The black-haired female reporter fired off rapid and sharp follow-up questions.
"Carney's coercive methods were relatively covert, and no one had filed complaints before. Our investigation of him was still in the evidence-gathering stage. As for matters related to the family... the Meredith family representative has issued a clear statement condemning him. Details will be in the recent editions of the Norlington Evening News."
Raymond cautiously answered the persistent reporter's questions, beads of sweat already densely covering his forehead as he spoke.
The police department was subordinate to City Hall, which was controlled by the Meredith family, so Raymond's work had to avoid offending their interests as much as possible.
But the entire City Hall was also suppressed by the Secrets-Hunter Cult; he certainly couldn't risk provoking those fanatics either...
Caught in the middle, Raymond could only tread carefully.
Fortunately, the somewhat unfamiliar black-haired female reporter stopped asking questions, allowing him to proceed step-by-step according to the process to conclude the press conference.
Raymond couldn't help but heave a deep sigh of relief. After the conference ended, he touched his back only to find his shirt damp with cold sweat he hadn't noticed.
And that black-haired female reporter had, unnoticed, disappeared into the deepening night along with the flowing crowd.
...
"The Merediths are so indifferent to a stain on their family reputation like this; it seems the pressure from the Secrets-Hunter Cult is intense. Hmm... Could it be the Hunters have got some leverage over them?"
Rosalia lightly stroked her dark, bluish-black hair, putting her camera and recording equipment back into her bag.
She then took a city map from the envelope containing her assignment letter, spending some time locating "Norlington Central Academy."
"Ah, it's been too long since I've been back; I can't even find the school's location anymore, even though I spent four whole years here. Hmm... cross Moonburton Street, turn left at the first intersection, and that's the main gate..."
After some time, Rosalia entered the academy. Following the route instructions in the secret letter, she asked passersby along the way and arrived before the White Cup Cult's reception room.
"Is anyone there?"
She knocked politely, and the door opened.
Professor Terence looked at Rosalia, dressed as a reporter outside the door, and after a brief identification, confirmed she was today's main guest.
"You are the 'Messenger' of the Moon's Favored, Rosalia Nolaria?"
"That's me. Professor Terence."
Rosalia lifted her chin, revealing the "Molting Moon" holy symbol on her neck. The pattern of a waxing crescent bore silken, cocoon-like patterns, reminiscent of a cicada shedding its skin.
"Please come in." After confirming her identity, Terence invited her inside.
Rosalia was a graduate of a certain year at Norlington Central Academy; it was normal for her to know him. The relationship between the Moon's Favored and the White Cup Cult was considered close, so they didn't need excessive, meaningless pleasantries.
Her visit had two purposes: first, to gain a deeper understanding of the nameless vampire's situation, and second, to clear the Moon's Favored of suspicion, dispel any potential misunderstandings, and maintain the Budding Moon Covenant.
"Professor Terence, where is the body of that nameless vampire currently located?"
The moment she sat down, Rosalia got straight to the point, asking about the culprit behind this incident.
"It's right here in this room. Moved over from the Secrets-Hunter Medicae Hall morgue just yesterday."
Terence casually pointed to the rectangular coffin placed on a nearby counter.
The process of retrieving the vampire's body from the Secrets-Hunters hadn't been easy at all; these Hunters were exceptionally stubborn about the ownership of their trophies. Any notion of coveting their prey would invite displeasure.
Fortunately, this time the negotiation with the White Cup involved the Medicae Hall; signing a sharing agreement solved the problem. If it had been the Burial Court, things would likely have been much more troublesome...
Rosalia walked over to the black coffin and lifted the lid. As the corpse was revealed, her gaze gradually grew serious.
"By the Molting Moon above..."
Even after receiving mortuary restoration and preservation treatments, this corpse could aptly be described as "ghastly."
A massive slash wound extended from his face down to his abdomen, the cross-section filled with now-necrotic flesh tendrils, tenuously connected.
The contents of his abdominal and cranial cavities, organs and such, had all been removed, leaving the skin sack empty.
Looking at this corpse with its extraordinarily gruesome death, Rosalia felt a shiver of apprehension. If the vampires hadn't pledged allegiance to the Moon God during the Budding Moon's Apostasy, she herself would likely be on the Burial Court's blacklist by now.
"Did he encounter a senior Hunter in life?"
"To be precise, the person he encountered was the Mistress of Attendants of the Burial Attendants, Haida Moira. I was at the scene at the time."
Terence explained calmly, his expression as placid as an ancient, still well.
Uncommon sights breed amazement; it's just a corpse.
Terence himself was an ancient relics scholar, often traversing lost ruins and dealing with ancient remains.
Moreover, after some restoration by an undertaker, this corpse now had a vaguely human shape, far less terrifying than its appearance in the Birth-Feast Hall.
+++
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