Wearing a subtle expression, Vivian watched as Fran took the head and then placed it beside the storage cabinet in the clinic's entryway. As if it really were a gift brought by a visiting friend.
If what was inside wasn't a head, this scene would be quite heartwarming...
Under Fran's guidance, the two seated themselves on the wooden chairs in the main hall.
Compared to the Fog Street Clinic in Norlington, the furnishings here were much simpler. No bookshelves or fireplace, the soft velvet sofa was replaced by sturdy wooden square chairs.
It was like a rough, bare space that had just been painted and put into use.
"So, what were the findings at the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower?"
Although it was late at night, Fran showed no signs of drowsiness. Her amber-colored eyes subtly shimmered, radiant under the dim candlelight.
"We did discover some anomalies."
Her experience on the outskirts of the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower earlier had indeed left Haida somewhat puzzled. Now was a good opportunity to exchange information and understand Dr. Fran's opinion.
"The Stellar Abyss Society's bell tower has some special effects; it's not merely a symbolic structure... It seems to attract Abyssal Sea devils. According to the original description of the 'Abyssal Curse,' those monsters should appear on any coastline during the full moon."
"But now, the Abyssal Sea devils are all swarming toward the bell tower."
Listening to her description, Fran lightly stroked her chin, lost in thought.
"Hmm... sounds like the phototaxis of nocturnal insects."
"It's somewhat different."
Haida shook her head, adding details about the Abyssal Sea devils.
"The devils don't chase the light recklessly like moths. Instead, they become sluggish after approaching within a certain range of the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower. According to Vivian's description, their state is like 'intoxication.'"
"I see."
"Intoxication" was a very interesting state, which to some extent also confirmed some of Fran's speculations. She slightly narrowed her eyes, roughly understanding the operating principle of the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower.
Thinking of this, she asked the nun beside her a question.
"Haida, do you know under what circumstances humans generally show the emotion of 'intoxication'?"
Hearing this, Haida pondered the true meaning of Dr. Fran's question.
However, she had already had many ideas on the way here, so she quickly reached a conclusion.
"Probably when material or spiritual needs are satisfied."
"Tasting delicious food that suits one's palate, reading an unforgettable book, immersing in a hobby one truly loves, or appreciating art that resonates with oneself..."
"Excellent, a textbook answer. Do the Secrets-Hunter tests also cover such content?"
Fran was quite satisfied with Haida's answer, so much so that she curiously teased a little.
"No, just some of my own shallow thoughts."
Haida responded quite modestly to her praise.
Vivian, who had been listening, was very interested in the situation of those Abyssal Sea devils, as she was the one who witnessed the scene. With a hint of doubt, she pressed Fran about the earlier question.
"So, the reason those Abyssal Sea devils became sluggish... was because some need of theirs was satisfied?"
"Perhaps so."
Fran nodded lightly, then voiced her speculation.
"I didn't witness that scene myself, so I can't be certain. But if I were to say what type of art could resonate with any living creature... it would probably be 'music.' Coincidentally, there are rumors of singing at the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower, aren't there?"
"Melody, rhythm, the harmonious vibration of matter has possessed the power to catalyze emotions since ancient times."
After a detailed explanation, Haida understood what Fran wanted to convey.
"So, that bell tower produces a sound we cannot hear?"
"Dear Haida, how can you ask me that?" Fran lightly wagged her index finger, letting out a graceful laugh. "I haven't been to the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower to listen."
"However, we can ask someone who might have heard that sound."
As she spoke, she raised her hand to stretch her waist, then got up and walked to the storage cabinet in the entryway, retrieving the case containing the Ant-Scale Prisoner's head.
"Oh, truly worthy of a highly Evil Spawn-ized humanoid specimen. The brain has been in an anoxic state for over twenty minutes and is still only in deep shock, not completely dead..."
Opening the sealed bag, Fran used her fingertip to flip open the eyelid of the head, still finding signs of ocular nerve activity like pupil dilation and contraction.
"Haida's sword stroke only preserved the main part of the head, without including the neck and trachea, what a pity. I wanted to prepare an artificial lung for this unlucky fellow to hear him sing live."
"Preparing an extra trachea and vocal tract is a bit troublesome. I haven't heard his voice, and the cultivated organ might have an inaccurate timbre..."
Listening to the doctor's muttering, Vivian couldn't help but sit up straight silently, blinking her eyes somewhat guiltily.
Previously, when Fran was performing an autopsy in the Norlington sewers, she had said "the dead can also speak." At the time, Vivian hadn't paid much attention, thinking it was just a metaphor expressing pride in exquisite medical skill.
Looking at it now, she probably wasn't using a metaphor then, but really intended to make the dead speak. This doctor was even preparing to make this head sing...
"Seems like we'll have to use the old method after all. Fortunately, I already did an iteration of the Bio-Conversion Device; it shouldn't lack too much information now."
After a thorough and detailed examination, Fran finalized the plan.
Last time, she had also used the Bio-Conversion Device on Schmidt's brain. But its completion level wasn't high then, so she only obtained scattered fragments of that White Cup teaching assistant being... coached by a certain dancer.
Hearing her words, Haida couldn't help but show an "as expected" expression. Dr. Fran truly possessed technology capable of extracting information from a dead person's brain; her premonition had come true...
Fran picked up the case containing the head, then snapped her fingers. A peculiarly shaped large instrument materialized in the main hall, enveloped in grey mist.
[Bio-Conversion Device (First Iteration)]
[Quality: Ordinary]
[Effect: Can extract and back up a biological entity's consciousness information. This process will also cause the individual's soul to separate out. This product has undergone one technical optimization by a certain doctor and can now read memories, but still cannot maintain the integrity of consciousness information.]
[Note: "The lives of the Necrontyr were painful and brief, so why should we cling to these fragile shells?" — Illuminator Szarekh.]
"Too lazy to run back to the main store in Norlington, let's just move this thing over. Hmm... honestly, I really want to hear what kind of singing could make Abyssal Sea devils become intoxicated."
"I hope this Ant-Scale Door disciple's head contains that part of the information."
As she spoke, Fran dusted and sterilized the brought-over Bio-Conversion Device, then used a Wraithbone Lancet to pry open the scales and bone of the head in the sealed case, fully exposing the brain.
As the nerve-like mechanical filaments in the instrument connected to the gyrus-covered brain, consciousness reading began.
The memories in the Ant-Scale Door disciple's brain were biologically deconstructed and recoded, eventually turning into pure data and loaded into the device's database.
"Hmm... this fellow's self-consciousness has also been shattered by the device, just like Schmidt's. By the way, the soul extracted by the device can be given to Sigrid for research. Given some time, she might be able to research the Philosopher's Stone refinement formula."
While operating the device, Fran didn't forget to mutter a few thoughtful remarks.
This was her habit during research; vocalizing her thoughts made the thinking process smoother and more coordinated.
"Alright, you two. Place your hands on mine."
After completing the preparations, Fran extended her hand to Haida and Vivian beside her.
"Okay."
Haida promptly placed her hand on Fran's. Vivian, though not entirely clear on the situation, followed suit.
In an instant, the Ant-Scale Door disciple's memories suddenly appeared in the three individuals' minds from a first-person perspective.
Flickering candles, dazzling flames, a solemn and spacious church lit up as if in daylight.
A person knelt before a statue of a deity covered in wounds, hands clasped together as if reciting a prayer.
But the sound from his mouth wasn't an epic or hymn, but a murmur with a sob-like tone.
"Oh, Mother crowned with the Illuminating Laurel... why, why have you forsaken us? Why do you no longer respond, no longer guide?"
"My wounds still bleed, my pain remains intense, my spirit still remains alert..."
Upon closer observation, this supplicant's body also bore many wounds. Some had healed, others were still oozing blood.
"I do not believe you have fallen into eternal slumber like the false ones of the White Cup. I believe you will eventually return. I believe... you will rise again from the drowning froth of blood, armored and armed, as in the old days."
He now pressed his head tightly against the cold marble floor, his whispers like wails.
What was happening was part of this Ant-Scale Door disciple's daily routine. Or rather, this was his ascetic practice and holy lesson.
Time burned like a fiercely blazing calendar, decades vanishing in the blink of an eye, leaving only ashes scattered by the wind.
The man grew older, the wounds on his body continuously bleeding and scabbing over. Only his eyes had dried up, no longer shedding tears during prayer.
"My body and spirit are exhausted, soon to return to the grave, unable to serve you any longer."
He murmured hoarsely, slowly wiping the dust off the altar with his calloused hands.
"Perhaps, I was wrong... Those faithless fanatics did not lie; you truly have forsaken us."
The old man looked at the solemn statue, his turbid gaze full of confusion and bewilderment.
Just then, he saw the wounds carved on the statue... begin to trickle with strands of crimson blood. The blood throbbed and surged, as if living creatures were swimming within.
"You... you answered me?"
After a brief moment of stunned disbelief, immense joy welled up in the old man's mind, almost driving him mad.
"Yes, of course, you still exist! You still hold the key that unlocks false mysteries, dispersing the ignorance of us foolish disciples..."
He could feel blessings and spirituality flowing through his body again, and the vitality long withered began to sprout anew.
The shadow of death had receded; now he embraced rebirth.
The old man bathed in a grand sense of comfort, almost on the verge of tears.
Because of this, he didn't notice the filthy scales emerging from beneath his skin, and his wounds quietly transmitted the itchy sensation of tiny creatures wriggling...
—
"Ah!"
Vivian detached from the memory information, then hugged her chest, breathing heavily.
Her face was unnaturally pale, her disordered breath taking a long time to calm.
"Was the stimulation from this memory segment too strong? Relax, you'll get used to it. What you saw is just pure information; it won't cause personality contamination to your self-consciousness."
Seeing Vivian wasn't in good condition, Fran reached out to gently stroke her back. After a bit of comforting, she brought over a cup of "Tranquil Slumber" with added sugar.
This flower tea, paired with some sugar cubes, was very suitable for stabilizing a child's emotions and preventing convulsions.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Fran, I felt a bit unwell just now..."
Vivian took the teacup and took a sip, then apologized somewhat sheepishly.
The Ant-Scale Door disciple's memories were presented from a first-person perspective.
Therefore... his pain, confusion, the grinding trials of time, the aging of his body, and finally the strange sensation of being contaminated by worms could all be experienced in the most direct way. This delivered an extremely powerful mental shock to Vivian.
While waiting for her to recover, Fran explained the earlier scene.
"The days in the church were this Ant-Scale Door disciple's most deeply imprinted memories. At that time, he could still be called human."
"Hmm... and this fellow seems to be a survivor from the Lost Age, dating back several hundred years. The memory about the singing of the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower would come much later."
As she spoke, she adjusted the Bio-Conversion Device, selectively capturing more recent memories.
"Vivian, if you're feeling unwell, don't force yourself. I can review it first and then recount it to you."
Given Vivian's seemingly poor condition, Fran quite considerately sought her opinion.
"Um... Dr. Fran, I'm feeling much better now. Please let me continue."
Unexpectedly, this time Vivian did not go along with her suggestion. Instead, she indicated that she had recovered and could once again view the Ant-Scale Door disciple's memories.
Collecting secrets was the duty of a Confidential Division agent; she was unwilling to give up midway because of some issues that could be overcome.
Vivian might not be particularly brave, but someone capable of becoming a Secrets-Hunter... would absolutely never be a truly weak person.
"Oh, commendable courage... Alright then, I respect your opinion."
Fran clapped her hands with a touch of encouragement, then once again took her hand and began presenting the Ant-Scale Door disciple's second set of memories.
That was... the perspective of an Evil Spawn.
Vivian felt her entire field of vision become broad and disorienting, as if constantly spinning. Incomprehensible murmurs filled her eardrums, accompanied by the sound of surging waves, maddening noise everywhere.
The scenery continuously overlapped and interwove, like intense hallucinations seen after taking drugs.
Vivian forcibly steadied her mind and barely managed to see that this Ant-Scale Door disciple was tightly shackled with steel chains and was being escorted towards the Sands of Slumber Bell Tower by several Star-Tellers.
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