“So that strange phenomenon really was your doing. As soon as I saw the red moon, I—Wait, repeat that. What are you doing?”
“Upgrading.” Lynch summoned his soul manifestation and pointed to the second light orb. “Authority, Death. I felt it was a bit slow too; it should be able to go faster, but I got stuck on my understanding of authority... Wait, put down the sword. Why did you suddenly grab your sword?”
“Twenty days! Other people usually take seven or eight months, or even a year or two, and you did it in twenty days, only to tell me it could be faster? And with such a huge scene, you’re telling me you were just upgrading? If you said you were working a miracle, people would believe it! Anyone else ascending to rank two finds a quiet corner to do it secretly. What about you? Half of Rhine City could see the moon rising during the day... Forget it. No matter what you do from now on, I won’t be surprised anymore.”
Recalling the psychological trauma this bastard had inflicted on her since they met, Officer Natalie poked hard several times at the cast on Lynch's right leg. Only then did she sit back down in her chair huffily and pick up her coffee cup again.
She had actually come to visit the sick, and had brought Lynch a generous gift.
Friedman coffee from the coffee kiosk at the station square, made with double sugar and milk, paired with butter cookies from next door, and drizzled with a small spoonful of rose nectar—having a set like this for morning tea would immerse anyone in sweet bliss for the entire day.
However, Officer Natalie wasn't feeling blissful at all right now. She huffily took a bite of a cookie, then viciously took a sip of coffee. After several mouthfuls, the sweet nourishment finally restored a smile to her face.
Lynch, however, felt something was off.
“Wait a second. You came to visit a patient, right? Aren't those my get-well gifts? Doesn't their current destination seem a bit inappropriate to you?”
“Not at all. It's completely appropriate! You're not eating them anyway. Are you going to eat them?”
Saying so, the police officer offered him a cookie loaded with toppings.
Lynch shook his head emphatically. “No. Too sweet. Just looking at it makes my teeth ache.”
“See?” The police officer calmly pulled the cookie back and popped it into her mouth. “I'm just eating them on your behalf. You should be thanking me.”
Lynch flared up briefly at her logic, then reached into the nightstand to pull out two muffins she had left over from yesterday and handed them over. He then leaned back against the bed, looking at the female officer across from him. In truth, over the past sixteen days, she had spent eleven of them idling here. During the first six or seven days in particular, she had even stayed overnight in an empty room on the third floor. It was only after Lynch’s condition improved—at least recovering the normal combat capability of a Soul Severer—that Officer Natalie reduced the frequency of slacking off here.
“Victor was just worried that if a Watcher advisor got attacked while injured, it would damage our reputation, so he sent me to check on you,” Officer Natalie said, sipping her coffee with her eyes drifting elsewhere. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t even bother coming. The sweets at Charles Square are way worse than those at the station square.”
“Ah, right, right, right. Everything you say is right.”
Lynch didn't dare say anything more. Following the pattern of the past few days, if he pursued this topic, someone’s leg would get whacked. Naturally, it would be the unbroken one this time.
Officer Natalie gave him a resentful glare—leaving Lynch bewildered—before putting down her coffee and asking, “So, that person was scared off by the commotion from your ascension to rank two authority? Was he very strong?”
“Yeah. My inspiration reacted. He's definitely no weaker than Elder Nikolai.”
Officer Natalie held a muffin with both hands, nibbling away with crunching noises, her brows furrowing. “Experts with rank seven authority are rare in Rhine. Did another high-ranking Soul Severer of unknown identity enter the city? You don't recognize him?”
“No, a stranger. But judging by his reaction, he came for me. Today was likely just a greeting. If I guessed correctly, he'll come looking for me again soon. When he does, we'll find out his goal.”
Neither of them was worried about Mrs. Maggie or little Martha. In this world, trouble might extend to wives and children, but almost no one targeted neighbors unless they were completely insane wanted criminals launching indiscriminate attacks.
“Then be careful. You need to arm yourself as soon as possible. Once you're done here later, we'll go to the archives to see Mr. Klin first, and then I'll take you to a secret society. Don't you have money now? We'll see if you can find some death abilities you can use. Oh, and arcana as well... Hm? Someone's coming.”
Lynch heard it too. The front door downstairs was knocked on, followed by little Martha’s chattering voice. Moments later, Mrs. Maggie knocked on the bedroom door and respectfully ushered the visitor inside.
It was an elderly woman wearing a knitted long dress and a floral headscarf, her attire carrying a rustic flair. Behind her followed two middle-aged nuns in traditional robes. Seeing her, Officer Natalie quickly dropped her cookies and stood up, taking off her hat and bowing politely.
Lynch also bowed slightly to show respect. The elderly woman was Sister Nightingale, Lynch's primary physician, a believer of Fiona, the Lord of Suffering and Pain, and a healing sister with rank five authority.
Her strength within the church was not considered high, and her official position was unremarkable, but her prestige in Lande was astonishingly high. It was said that even the Pope of the Church of Suffering, upon meeting her, would respectfully wait for her to sit down before taking a seat himself.
She was a true saint who had led teams deep into battlefields and plague zones multiple times throughout her life, saving countless lives. Respected by all, she was truly a treasure of the Church of Suffering. Now, advanced in age and lacking the physical strength to travel around, she had returned to her hometown of Rhine to spend her remaining years, using her reputation and wisdom to make a final contribution to the church.
“Hmm, the drawing skills have improved a lot this time, and the story is quite good too. It’s just that the ending, like the previous ones, is a bit monotonous.”
Sister Nightingale thoughtfully critiqued the cast on Lynch's leg, making little Martha hide behind Mrs. Maggie in embarrassment while giggling softly. Tenderly patting the little girl's head, she soon sent the mother and daughter outside, leaving only the female officer behind. Once they left the bedroom, she signaled the two accompanying nuns to close the door from the outside, then sighed and said, “Detective Levive, your injuries have fully healed now, so there are certain things I can tell you. Right now, there is something I need your help with.”
Hm?
Making a request afterward rather than setting conditions beforehand won her considerable goodwill from Lynch. He exchanged a glance with Officer Natalie, then nodded. “Please go ahead.”
“I have my own intelligence sources, so I know roughly what you experienced that day,” Sister Nightingale sighed. “Eliminating Mordiggian's avatar was a good thing—one less threat to this world. However... how should I put it? It would have been better if it weren't Mordiggian.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mordiggian’s authorities are Cold, Death, and Disease. You know this, right?” Seeing them both nod, the elderly woman smiled bitterly. “His authority over Disease is the biggest issue. The moment his avatar shattered, the concept of disease disintegrated alongside it into hundreds of millions of fragments, splattering across the entire Middle Earth.”
“A plague?”
A sudden chill ran down Lynch's spine. He felt as though he were once again witnessing the horrifying, worldwide plagues at the end of the First and Third Ages, and the subsequent end of the world that followed. The impression was so deeply etched in his mind that hearing the old woman's words immediately brought a widespread plague to mind.
The elderly woman gave him a puzzled look and shook her head. “Disease and plague are two different concepts. A disease must first be contagious to turn into an infectious disease, and an infectious disease must spread uncontrollably on a large scale to become a plague. There is a fundamental difference between the two. Why did you suddenly think of a plague?”
“Heh, just overly sensitive.” Lynch still felt uneasy, but he could only give an embarrassed laugh. “It's nothing. Please continue. What about the disease?”
“Because the concept of disease has spread across a vast area, a large-scale outbreak of disease will likely occur in the surrounding regions over the next few months. This is an unavoidable consequence of shattering a divine avatar holding authority over Disease.”
Lynch's brow furrowed, his mood turning heavy. He knew full well he had done nothing wrong, but thinking about the outcome inevitably made him feel uncomfortable. “What kind of disease?” he pressed.
“That is precisely what I want to know—what kind of disease it will be. Since an outbreak is inevitable, as long as we can determine what it is beforehand and make targeted preparations, we can minimize the danger,” Sister Nightingale explained. “I will do my best to investigate during this time to confirm the type of disease. As for the treatment, I will need your help, Mr. Lynch.”
“Huh? I can help?”
“Yes. If there is only one person in the world who can help, it is definitely you, Mr. Detective.” Sister Nightingale smiled. “The disease stem from the concept of Mordiggian's avatar, and you are the one who shattered that avatar. Therefore, no matter what disease it is, you naturally counteract it. Rest assured, there will be no danger to you at all—we will just need to take a bit of your blood.”
Lynch felt the veins in his temples throbbing, suddenly recalling stories of the sole immune survivor during zombie apocalypses. However, facing such an elderly woman with such a simple request, Lynch couldn't bring himself to refuse. He could only nod. “We are going to the Watchers' headquarters later to meet a master of occultism. Let's talk after that. Once we're done, I will visit the Church of Suffering.”
Rate on N.U.
