"You! Cough..." Conan clutched his neck, blood spraying, staggering backward.
The child's desperate counterattack carried astonishing force; his carotid artery, along with part of his trachea, had been bitten through...
Conan retreated hastily, seemingly trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but the gushing plasma showed no sign of abating.
Under the massive blood loss, he soon fell into shock, collapsing to the ground.
The girl gasped violently, spitting out the remaining blood and shreds of flesh from her mouth.
It took her a long time to completely calm the panic in her heart. Just as she approached the white falcon statue, pondering how to leave this secret room...
Conan, who had gone limp on the floor, had somehow quietly stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey..."
What now flowed from his neck was no longer plasma, but a thick, fungal spore slurry.
"Your disguise was good. You seemed to want to seek release, or perhaps sacrifice yourself for others... but you never gave up fighting back. Until the very last moment, you were thinking of how to kill me."
"And I, too, wanted to see just how far you could go..."
"As a seven-year-old, you've done very well. Now, embrace your new life without regrets."
The laceration on Conan's neck now no longer leaked any fluid. Flashing a victor's smile, he made no attempt to hide his glee.
Using this method to manipulate a subject's emotions... truly the epitome of bad taste...
Fran remained an observer, occasionally commenting on this alchemist's operational procedures.
The girl retreated step by step, while Conan advanced step by step.
Suddenly, Conan stopped.
Not because the girl had been backed into a corner, but because... a pitch-black shadow scythe was now resting against his neck.
One more move and his head might just fall off.
"Who are you? How did you get in? Don't you know this is the Royce estate?"
Conan felt an icy, deadly aura from behind, as if breathing a bit too heavily would mean death... so much so that he couldn't even muster the courage to turn around.
Who was it? How did they get in? Why was there no sign of the only secret door being opened?
What to do, say something! At any rate, at least stabilize the situation first!
Just as Conan was thinking frantically, his vision suddenly blurred...
After a strong sensation of falling, he saw his own ankles.
Thump!
Conan's head turned into a shattered pulp of flesh and blood under the trampling of a hunting boot.
The contents of his skull were not red and white brain matter, but a cluster of dark green fungal growths. These polluting forms, already approximating plants, had replaced most of his medullary substance, interfering with and even dominating his thoughts.
The previous "bio-alchemical experiments" almost never succeeded except for producing large amounts of contaminants saturated with Dissolver... yet he continued tirelessly... the answer was obvious.
The alchemist's mind had long been completely replaced, yet he himself remained utterly unaware.
At this point, he wasn't even a so-called "mad scientist" anymore, merely a gardener cultivating the Dissolver.
The young girl did not offer thanks or make any other move, only staring warily at this hunter with deep, penetrating eyes.
Although the hunter had killed that terrifying alchemist, that didn't mean he was here to save her. Someone who slays villains isn't necessarily good... they could be a stronger villain.
An aura of cold, deadly severity surrounded the hunter, like the howling north wind of deep winter.
He was far more dangerous than that alchemist...
Ahern surveyed the bones that nearly carpeted the secret room, his gaze growing increasingly somber.
Only after confirming no more Evil Spawn or cultists remained alive here did he turn his attention to the girl whose mouth was still stained with blood.
"Gray-chestnut eyes... you are a 'Meredith'? ... Which branch family are you from?"
In the flickering, dim light of the secret room, the girl now saw clearly that the hunter's eyes were also a chestnut color tinged with light gray.
"I..." The girl seemed fearful, unsure how to respond to the hunter.
Her memories were currently a blank slate; she had no idea what a 'Meredith' was. But if she answered truthfully, would she be beheaded by the scythe like that alchemist?
"I don't remember."
In the end, she chose to tell the truth.
"Your name?" Ahern asked succinctly, almost stingy with his words.
"I don't remember that either." The girl pressed her lips together. Since she chose honesty, she'd see it through to the end.
From the moment she awoke to find herself one of many experimental subjects, she had been completely unable to recall her origins or name. The only obsession in her mind was "to survive."
"Don't remember..." Ahern narrowed his eyes, seemingly considering something.
The White Cup's dream veil that erased memories had deleted two names and also caused a moderate-scale amnesia. Children with keen spiritual perception were most susceptible to its effects.
"Perhaps it's for the best not to remember. The Merediths are an ancient ship destined to sink; being tied to it isn't worth it."
He seemed to recall something, his expression tinged with emotion. He even spoke a bit more.
"You did well."
Without any preamble, Ahern praised the girl, though his tone remained as detached as ever, as if simply stating a fact.
"...At what?"
The girl was somewhat baffled.
"After biting Conan's neck, you immediately chose to tear the blood vessels. If he were still human... you would have won."
Ahern raised his hand, adjusting his tricorne hat properly.
"Sharp, decisive. You possess the talent to be a Secrets-Hunter..."
"Come with me, if you're willing."
With that, Ahern ignored the white falcon statue that served as the door mechanism, slowly approaching the secret door. With three swings of his scythe, a neatly cut opening large enough for a person to pass through appeared.
The girl bit her silver teeth lightly, made a decision in an instant, and then hurriedly followed the black-clad hunter.
"Wait for me."
Ahern immediately turned back.
"Are you willing to become a Secrets-Hunter?"
"Mhm." Having made her decision, the girl agreed without hesitation.
Ahern gave a slight, unsurprised nod, as if their communication was meant to be this concise and efficient.
"Haida Moira. Use this name. From today on, I will call you my daughter."
He uttered this name without any sign of forethought, as if he had decided upon it long ago.
Hearing the Chief Hunter's words, Fran raised a hand to cover her lips, looking at Haida beside her. A trace of a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered in the doctor's amber eyes, like a feline that has discovered something interesting.
Haida was not embarrassed; her gray-chestnut eyes held more frankness.
She hadn't intended to hide this from the doctor anyway.
"Dr. Fran also discovered a secret in my memories... so we're even."
Fran protested at this.
"Ahem, isn't that a bit unfair? My own dark history is plentiful... three segments of memories alone."
"However... Sister Haida's memory here is quite 'pure,' without many signs of dark erosion. This indicates your psychological state is approaching health. No further treatment is needed."
As for the darkness and peril in Fran's own memories... best not to mention that.
In the introduction for this quarter's house call, the patient suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (Initial Stage) was Haida.
Due to her past with the alchemist Conan, she experienced a near-physiological aversion to the Withering.
This was also why, upon first glimpsing the shadow of that colossal statue, it caused her spiritual perception to collapse into bloody tears.
But after seeing Dr. Fran, wreathed in mad flames, climb the mountain of piled bones and seize that crown... this shadow that had haunted Haida for years finally dissipated.
...
With the heart's ailment cured, this year-end quarterly house call also came to an end.
Memories, the surface and inner worlds, all past visions... now melted away like spring snow.
As the pale mist coalesced, the figures of the two were gradually engulfed within, no longer visible.
...Silent Hill fell silent once more.
—
Fog Street Clinic, Main Hall.
An ancient, thick diary rested on Fran's lap. She held a quill, recording the gains from this December quarterly house call with fluid, continuous strokes.
As this was the final and most important house call of the year, she also referred to it as the "Annual House Call."
[The mental illnesses of 'Fog Street Physician' Fran and 'Burial Attendant' Haida have been cured. This quarter's cross-boundary house call is complete. Completion Rating: Apollyon (Abyss). Your next cross-boundary house call will be triggered at the end of next quarter.]
[This session's fee: Crown-Thief (Talent).]
[Your Parsing Rate changes: Terra Medicine (15% → 17%), Xenology (40.5% → 42.5%).]
[Special ability 'Drive Away Dust and Filth' has reached advancement standard (Proficient Level → Dominant Level). Proficiency reset to zero.]
—
[Crown-Thief (Talent)]
[Quality: Flawless]
[Effect: Evolved from "Legendary Thief." Whether tangible or intangible, as long as "contact" is made, an attempt can be made to steal it. However, due to a certain doctor's long-unpracticed skills, the effect of this talent is currently highly restricted.]
[Note: "Wishlist plus one, plus one, plus one. Phew... Only my museum is the best resting place for these treasures." — A certain unnamed Necron Overlord.]
After briefly noting the description of the "Crown-Thief" talent, Fran stopped writing and closed the diary.
This was equivalent to reclaiming a portion of the talent that had been partitioned off along with the "Madness" back then. As a fee for an Abyss-level house call, it was indeed sufficient.
After all, even [Legendary Thief] was only of Fine quality, while [Crown-Thief] had reached Flawless.
The only pity was that some of her memories and techniques were completely lost with that partition, equivalent to starting over from scratch...
Fran raised a hand to lightly touch her abdomen, her amber eyes flickering slightly with a hint of lazy weariness.
The mark of the Lord of Frenzied Flame, entwined with the Withered Crown, had left her body, and the forged Gate of Nothingness had also completely dissipated. At this moment, aside from some special medicines in the "Second Pharmacy," her body could be considered empty.
This feeling of relief, of being unburdened, was something she hadn't experienced in many years, like a chronic illness finally cured.
As for that stolen crown... it was currently temporarily placed in the Fog Street Clinic's collection room. The plan to find a new "casket" could be put on the agenda, but it wasn't urgent; she could search while continuing her house calls.
That feeling of being pursued had now vanished, no longer haunting Fran.
But perhaps it was merely lying dormant, and would one day manifest again.
...
Haida sat upright on the plush sofa opposite Fran, quietly reading the Aphoristic Silence in her hands.
Although not much time had passed, after her journey through Silent Hill, her knowledge of the esoteric had undergone a qualitative leap.
After all... witnessing a divine incarnation and surviving without losing one's mind could itself be called a miracle.
After some time, Haida put down the creed and rubbed her temples.
Fran, resting her chin on one hand, asked her appropriately about her current progress in studying secret arts.
"Haida, what is the completion level of the secret art model for 'Mechanized Spirit' now?"
"About seventy percent."
Haida estimated, giving as accurate an answer as possible.
Fran gave a slight nod. This progress was a bit faster than expected, though still within her expectations.
+++
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