The ascetic in the red robe moved forward slowly and heavily. His figure was thin and withered, like a puppet stuffed with straw. Each step was stiff and awkward, as if he had not yet mastered how to control his muscles.
"Young and vibrant hunters of secrets are my favorite offerings, and the most pleasing to the gods. Do you know why, my dear ones?"
The old man advanced step by step, bathed in the pale moonlight filtering into the secret passage. His voice was hoarse and melancholy.
"Please enlighten us."
Fran stood up from where Haida had been. She straightened her white robes and gently rubbed her palms, showing no attempt to hide her curiosity.
Being eager to learn was a principle she had always held dear. It was not shameful to admit ignorance about something. In contrast, those who pretended to know when they didn't and acted superior were far more detestable...
"Haha, girl, you really want to know? Judging from your white robes, you're from the Medical Court?" ... Since you're a doctor, you shouldn't throw it up, right?"
Upon hearing Fran's inquiry, the old man paused for a moment, his interest piqued. He fixed his milky eyes on her, scrutinizing her from head to toe.
"The young hunters of secrets still have dreams for life and the future. They are passionate, beautiful, sensitive, and fragile. Their age and experience are not enough to turn them into emotionless weapons.
"Perhaps they can show a willingness to die, but as long as they are not killed and given a little more time to be manipulated... the most profound and sweetest despair after the collapse of their beliefs can be witnessed."
"Peel off the skin, brand with a mark, cut out the tongue, and sever the limbs. Sometimes, just one-third of the process is enough to drive them insane, as fragile as flowers..."
The old man described slowly, his eyes half-closed, as if in remembrance or in ecstasy.
"Can't the old hunters be used as sacrifices?"
Fran's expression remained unchanged, her amber eyes as clear as a mirror, showing no reaction to the old man's cruel and insane narrative.
"Miss, you have too many questions. But if you can become a living sacrifice, I will answer you slowly during the ritual... I hope I can still hear your inquiries then, rather than only your screams."
"Bang!"
If it weren't for Fran's quick push, Hilda might have fired her gun before this conversation even began.
In most cases, the sound of a bullet leaving the barrel is the only language that the evil and the insane can understand. That's why many experienced hunters prefer to remain silent during their missions.
The bullet hit the old man's heart, eye sockets, and spine precisely.
At such a close distance, he even exposed his torso to the moonlight... Hilda had no reason to miss.
But Hilda didn't let her guard down just because the bullet hit. She holstered her empty gun and then drew her wooden-handled folding knife.
"Sister Hilda, something's not right about him..." Vivian sensed something amiss.
This old man's attitude was very different from that of the usual Red Cup believers. He didn't grow extra flesh, didn't transform into a demonic offspring, and didn't even try to dodge the steel-core bullet inscribed with prayers... Even an assistant priest should show some respect for firearms and basic physics.
So far, she had only seen one cultist survive a truly fatal wound... the High Priestess, the dancer Sains.
"Hmm, I know."
Hilda was well aware of the strength of the assistant priest, so she knew... the person before her was probably a High Priestess.
"Your marksmanship is excellent, Sister. Among the hunters I've encountered in the past ten years, you'd rank in the top five..."
The old man, who had been shot several times, complimented Hilda in a calm voice, then pulled his body back from the backward lean caused by the huge momentum. He lifted his red leather robe, revealing his true appearance.
His entire torso was nothing but bony, with no flesh or organs to be seen. Yellowish-white nerves entwined around the bones like roots, swelling and contracting like muscles to give the entire body the ability to move.
Although he still maintained a human form, he was almost completely transformed into a cultist. The wounds caused by the firearms were now constantly oozing a white substance that danced.
"Ascetic of the Red Cup?"
Hilda took advantage of this moment to reload her magazine. Although she was currently using a folding knife, it was better to be prepared for a quick switch to combat mode.
The first round of probing was over... the opponent's strength exceeded expectations. The best theoretical response was to avoid direct physical confrontation, try to delay time, and attempt to disengage as much as possible.
"Ascetic is a general term. Usually, we call ourselves 'Sufferers'. Of course, your understanding is correct..."
The old man explained, then suddenly charged towards Hilda in an extremely awkward posture. His movements were light and fast, as if invisible threads were pulling his joints.
Although direct confrontation was not the best solution... sometimes, a head-on fight was inevitable.
"Hmph."
Hilda snorted coldly and raised her wooden-handled folding knife, meeting him without retreat.
The sharp blade cut through the old man's red robe, severing countless pale nerve roots and leaving a deep gash on his spine.
The ascetic's face contorted in a spasm-like manner, his features melting together. But he wasn't in pain from the wound; he was enjoying the pain bestowed by the gods.
His nerves had transformed into a tangled network of roots, gradually devouring his organs and flesh, and replacing them... after that, most of his senses had turned into the most extreme and profound "pain".
This was the blessing of the Red Cup, the gaze and pity of the colossal statue far beyond the heavens upon him.
"Common mortals, how can you understand true supremacy and might? Who gave you such arrogance? Who made you think you have the right to harm this divine vessel?"
The old man's voice seemed to twist in pain, but it also carried a sense of inner comfort.
After Hilda delivered two strikes, she immediately prepared to pull back, only to find that the ascetic's red robe had wrapped around her wrist as if it were alive, and she couldn't break free at all.
It wasn't a robe at all; it was several human skins turned inside out... up close, one could even faintly see pores and human features.
There was no escape!
A pale and crimson bone spike suddenly emerged from the wound on the ascetic's back, easily piercing through Hilda's nun's habit and the inner leather armor, and stabbing into her ribs.
Red Cup's second-class upper-level secret technique, [Bone Control].
Due to the toughness of the bone, the speed of the technique was rather slow, so the practical effect of this secret technique was somewhat unsatisfactory... but with this blessed and bizarre body, the old man could control the bones with efficiency beyond that of a human.
Just then, Vivian pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the old man right in the forehead.
The ascetic's pause after landing a hit was the perfect moment in Vivian's eyes. She didn't have any offensive secret techniques or special relics... Therefore, one can only try to look for such loopholes. "... The pain you inflict is of such high quality that even I feel relieved. Be proud of that...
The network of pale nerves in the gash on the old man's forehead kept oozing out, rapidly healing the wound while simultaneously generating intense pain.
Vivian made a soft sound of disapproval, her expression growing even more solemn.
The nerves and bones of the red-robed old man were actually one and the same. He could use his mutated nerves to repair his bones. And it seemed that he had no other organs left in his body.
No wonder when Hilda shot him in the eye socket, he was still unharmed... His brain inside the skull was probably reconstructed from these nerves that generate pain.
And Sister Hilda was injured. The bone spur had pierced through her leather armor in an instant, showing its considerable power... It might have injured her internal organs.
Where was Doctor Fran? Wasn't she going to intervene?
Due to the tension of the previous confrontation, Vivian had even forgotten to pay attention to Fran. Now, suddenly remembering, she found that she was still leisurely observing the battle, only occasionally taking out her brass pocket watch to check the time.
But Haida, who had just been pierced by the bone spur, did not retreat. Her breath did not weaken even a bit.
She grabbed the red-robed old man's eye socket with one hand, pressing her thumb into it, and with the other hand, she clenched her fist and smashed it down on the crack caused by Vivian's previous shot!
The old man's entire skull was completely crushed from top to bottom, and yellow and white nerve tendrils gushed out. He staggered back a few steps, his remaining half of a face full of confusion.
"How can you still have the ability to move? The Bone Control has already spread inside you, tearing apart all your organs..."
"Hey..."
Fran, holding a brass pocket watch, stepped out of the shadows and moonlight, smiling as he approached Haida.
"Mr. Ascetic... I enhanced your perception of 'expectation'. So you thought Sister Haida's serious injury was a foregone conclusion, and thus ignored observing her true condition. Don't be surprised, it's just a little trick."
Fran lifted Haida's black windbreaker with his hand, revealing the rib where she had been hit by the bone spur. This action was natural and smooth, like a medical mentor explaining a point to a student.
The blood plasma that had oozed from the wound had already scabbed and solidified, and the wound was not deep, seemingly only affecting the skin and flesh.
The "bone-strengthened organ" from the transformation surgery had qualitatively changed Haida's bones in terms of strength and flexibility, and her ribs were more like bone plates, making it impossible for the ascetic's bone spur to penetrate further after piercing the skin and flesh.
"Affected my thinking? How could that be? You're not one of those pedantic scholars from White Cup, ah... You're the 'Refuter' from White Cup?"
The red-robed old man seemed to have an epiphany. At this moment, he felt he was getting close to the truth. Indeed, a white coat could not only refer to a doctor... it could also represent the researchers from White Cup.
"As a high priest favored by the gods, you must have a deeper purpose for coming here, right?"
Fran strolled over to the ascetic in a leisurely manner, his tone as relaxed as if he were chatting about daily life.
"Do you really think you've won? Young Refuter... Your knives and muskets... haven't even truly harmed me, and you think... you've got it in the bag? You scholars who chase after truth will ultimately be destroyed by this arrogance..."
The ascetic asked in a broken voice.
These fleshy nerves spilling out from his skull were constantly repairing him, bringing him wave after wave of pain, and making his breath even more terrifying and profound.
But Vivian's expression became somewhat strange.
The high priest was not very mobile because of his body's repair... This scene seemed familiar. Oh, it was even in the Gluttony Club, without even changing the location.
"Reach for the moon."
While the ascetic was still repairing his body, the black chain on Fran's wrist suddenly shot out, wrapping around his body and pulling him directly in front of Fran.
"What do you... want to do?" He struggled desperately, almost breaking free from the tendrils of Reach for the Moon.
"I want to give you a little interesting surprise."
Fran's eyes were full of sincerity, so much so that one couldn't help but believe her.
Just now, she had received her monthly visit for June.
Dear Dr. Fran,
The monthly visit has been triggered this month. The treatment goal is to alleviate the endless suffering of the "Red Cup Sect" penitent, "Howen Lennis." Please ensure he is no longer tormented by unending pain. The subject is expected to escape in 5 minutes, so please begin treatment as soon as possible.
"What an interesting description: 'no longer tormented by unending pain.' It instantly inspires me."
Fran opened the small medicine box and deftly took out a syringe with a built-in needle.
"Sister Haida, could you help me break open his skull? It's been too long; he has healed again."
"Glad to assist."
Haida raised the wooden handle of her folding knife and, using it like a blunt instrument, struck Howen's skull, reopening the fragile bone that had just closed. Fran promptly followed by injecting the liquid from the syringe into the opening.
After completing this, Fran pulled Haida back by two paces.
She pulled out her brass pocket watch and checked the time; it was now around midnight. Soon, the interdimensional visit of this quarter will begin.
Fortunately, the penitent's issue has been resolved.
"Do you want to interfere with my brain? Ha, so clever of you... You may impose mental suggestions on me, but you can never affect my brain on a physical level... because it no longer exists. Now, my thoughts reside in every blessed nerve."
He began to moan weakly. Despite his best efforts to endure, he could not suppress the sounds escaping from him. His nerves, long numbed by pain, were suddenly overwhelmed by an intense euphoria. This violent reversal nearly shattered his sense of self.
"Now, your consciousness will transform pain into an equivalent pleasure."
Fran lightly swung the chain of the brass pocket watch in her hand, watching the scene before her with amused interest.
['Sufferer of Woes' Hovin's pain has been cured. This month's regular outcall task has been completed. Completion rating: S. Your next monthly outcall will be triggered randomly next month.]
[Payment for this session: Unknown Book x1 (Fine Quality, Unidentified)]
[Your proficiency changes: Clinical Psychology (20% → 20.3%), Neurology (21% → 21.5%), Terra Medicine (3% → 5%), Genetic Research (27% → 27.2%).]
"They even included the proficiency gains from the previous spinal research... Well, that's considerate enough."
Fran stretched lazily, stepping over the prostrate ascetic groaning on the ground with her thick-soled leather shoes.