"It's really troublesome that messengers can't find this place… collecting payment, returning the pendant, buying groceries—everything has to be done in person."
Unless arranged and permitted by the system, others cannot enter Fog Street from the outside. But if one is already inside the street, they can naturally walk out. Of course, Fran herself comes and goes freely.
This also means that unless she needs to go out for supplies, she is mostly in a state of being cut off from the world.
"Speaking of which, several technologies have been stuck at bottlenecks recently. I really should do some house calls to find new experimental subjects. Hope this quarter's materials… patients can be more outstanding."
—
Fifteen days later.
"Ms. Marian, today is the last day of the observation period, right?"
Haida looked at Marian, who was holding a puncture syringe. Even someone as calm and steady as her couldn't help revealing a hint of guilt and exhaustion at this moment.
Marian came every night, and each time she was abnormally enthusiastic, tossing her around for half the night. Her back really couldn't take much more…
"That's right, little Haida. Speaking of which, why did I only apply for a half-month observation period for you back then? What a pity… our intimate time together will likely end today."
Marian caressed her own face, her tone filled with deep regret.
"Blood draws and biological tissue sampling are all complete. Now only the lumbar puncture remains. Once today's test is done, you'll be liberated. Be good, lie down properly."
Marian gently patted Haida's back reassuringly, then quickly and precisely located the space between the lumbar vertebrae, inserted the puncture needle, and extracted a small amount of colorless, transparent cerebrospinal fluid.
The entire operation was skilled and fluid—completed in one smooth motion.
Haida's body trembled slightly, her silver teeth clenched, but she made no sound.
Since pain sensitivity was part of the observation project, Marian had only disinfected her—no anesthesia. A lumbar puncture without anesthesia… is difficult for the average person to endure.
"Alright, rest well today. You can take normal leave tomorrow… though with your restless personality, can you really rest?"
Marian carefully stored the spinal fluid, then placed a cup of steaming milk on the bedside table before gracefully departing. This had been a habit since Haida's childhood, though she hadn't done it in a long time.
About five minutes later, the bone-deep pain gradually faded. Haida slowly sat up and took a sip of the hot milk.
"Still treating me like a child?"
Just then, Haida caught a faint whiff of cool, damp air.
The ward door… had opened.
Ash-gray, icy fog covered everything beyond the doorway, darkness and faint light swirling together, forming a chaotic, fragmented void.
A slender figure in a white doctor's coat gradually emerged from the haze.
"Glad to see you again, Miss Haida. I'm here for a postoperative follow-up visit. Hmm… You haven't turned into a big, overbuilt brute. It seems you took your medicine as prescribed. That's wonderful."
Fran's face wore her unchanging professional smile—polite, pleasant, never sycophantic.
Seeing Fran suddenly appear, Haida was visibly stunned. A direct house call from this eerie doctor… was truly unexpected.
This was the Secrets-Hunter Cult's headquarters. Doctor, aren't you afraid of being targeted by the Burial Court's hunters? Those paranoid maniacs aren't as reasonable as I am…
"Dr. Fran. Who exactly are you? And what did you do to my body?"
"Didn't do much… Your original organs were basically destroyed, so I replaced them with a new set."
Fran tapped her head lightly, her tone relaxed, as if she were saying "gave you a new set of clothes."
"As for identity, I'm the attending physician of Fog Street Clinic. You knew that already… Besides that, I currently have no side jobs."
At the mention of "side job," her smile tightened slightly, then subtly returned to normal.
Having expected Fran's useless, evasive answers, Haida wasn't surprised and moved to another question.
"What was your purpose in saving me?"
"I'm a doctor with strong professional ethics. It's normal to help a severely injured person lying on the street. Definitely not for money, and certainly not to conduct strange experiments…"
As if worried Haida would continue pressing, Fran quickly handed over the platinum pendant collateral and a black card.
"Dear customer, please take good care of your collateral and your Fog Street Clinic membership pass. Next time, you'll get a 10% discount."
"…Hmm."
Haida hesitated a moment, then finally accepted the items.
Since Dr. Fran wouldn't answer anything directly, pressing further likely wouldn't yield results…
If that's the case, it was better to follow the doctor's rhythm, play the role of "patient," and maintain the relationship.
A being who could cure her near-certain death, whose formula even Ms. Marian couldn't analyze, and who could stroll into the Secrets-Hunter Cult headquarters like it were her own home…
What was she?
A rule-based humanoid anomaly?
A higher-dimensional offspring of an Eldritch origin?
An apostle of a hidden deity?
A remnant of ancient humanity from a lost era?
Each explanation contradicted something… but each also made sense.
What was certain was that she was friendly—and capable of communication.
Looking at Fran rubbing her hands expectantly, Haida knew… she was waiting for payment.
Haida opened the bedside drawer, took out a bank draft, and handed it to her. Head Alwin's reimbursement approval had been fast, so she'd prepared the money long ago.
If Fran were a rule-bound anomaly, completing the payment ritual was necessary. Otherwise… it might trigger unimaginable consequences.
"A draft from the Norlington Central Bank, totaling 1200 standard silver coins. The extra is thanks for saving me."
"How could I possibly accept this… Thank you so much."
Fran perfunctorily refused for half a second, then accepted the draft—so fast Haida didn't even see the movement.
"Then our doctor-patient relationship for this case is temporarily concluded. I hope you're satisfied with my service. Finally… I look forward to seeing you again."
After saying goodbye, she stepped into the swirling fog and vanished.
Even Fran didn't want to remain too long in the Secrets-Hunter Cult's core area.
There were a few lunatics here who could threaten her. Getting entangled would be a small nuisance.
Besides, she was in a hurry for this quarter's cross-world house call…
⸻
[Cross-Quarter House Call Initiated. You are about to enter: "Nameless Chamber — Judgment Room." This house call is single-participant.]
[Patient: Chamber Master, self-proclaimed "Themis."]
[Patient File: "Themis" is an excellent surgeon. She possesses strong medical ethics, superb skills, and is kind but not adept at interpersonal interactions. No one knows what role she plays in the city's shadows at night…]
[Symptoms: Jigsaw Syndrome (Early Stage).]
[Warning: This region possesses next-generation medical technology, and… beware of peers!]
[Begin consultation sequence.]
—
"Seems like a fellow doctor who needs psychological counseling."
Fran walked through the swirling gray-white fog. As it thinned, her field of vision suddenly plunged into darkness.
A dim incandescent bulb illuminated the space. Due to aging wiring, the faint light flickered, unstable.
By that faint light, Fran took in her surroundings.
A windowless room. Bare gray concrete walls and floor.
Besides a metal door, there were no vents—almost completely sealed.
Next to the door stood a crude wooden counter.
Dark and oppressive. The air smelled of mildew, dust, and a sticky, faintly bloody stench from decomposing proteins.
"Hmm. Does the patient live in a place like this? Too pitiful. Maybe I shouldn't charge this time…"
Fran scanned the area, quickly locking onto the counter.
She approached and opened the drawer. Inside was an old cassette tape recorder.
Alongside it sat two newspapers, a magazine, and a diary.
She narrowed her eyes, a vague bad premonition rising, then pressed the play button.
"Good day, Dr. Fran Herschel. I am 'Themis.'"
After a brief greeting, the recording introduced herself—standard enough. But her hoarse female voice, distorted by tape degradation, carried a subtle unease.
And the next line made Fran squint.
"I want to play a game…"
"Fran, you are an outstanding doctor. Under the surgical lights, the scalpel in your hands has saved countless lives. You snatched them back from death and granted them the right to live again. But have you ever respected their will? When you cut their flesh and excised their organs, did you consider whether they could accept that twisted 'rebirth'?"
"In my view, you are an indifferent yet fanatical madwoman. You never care about your patients' true will, altering their bodies at whim. Your only promise to them is: 'you will live.'"
"While you were unconscious, I removed both your kidneys. How long can someone live without kidneys? As a doctor more skilled than I, you should know the answer better."
"You have lost something, but also gained something else. The question is, do you have the determination to obtain it? …The path to salvation lies within."
"Life… or death. Make your choice."
The corner of Fran's eye twitched slightly, making her standard professional smile appear somewhat stiff.
"Wait—my kidneys are gone?"
She lifted her clothes. On her slender lower abdomen was a horizontal incision already sutured. Inside, she felt sharp nerve-bundle pain.
"Today's patient isn't very friendly either… Alright then, just you wait."
Fran felt her steps weakening.
Fortunately, the organ-removal technique had been excellent—no hallmark signs of amateur infection. She could still move.
Expected, after all.
If Themis could remove her kidneys, she could certainly remove her heart. Choosing a non-immediately fatal organ was deliberate—meant to watch her struggle.
Normally, Fran's "quarterly house calls" came with a preassigned identity to rationalize her presence. Today… she seemed to be an unlucky doctor whose kidneys were harvested by a Jigsaw imitator.
"Better check the materials. Psychological cases are best treated with targeted therapy…"
Fran laid out the magazine, newspapers, and diary.
She noticed the magazine first. Shockingly, the cover featured herself.
The headlines read:
"Fran Herschel's Team Achieves New Breakthrough in Human Immune Mechanism Research!"
"Genius! Dr. Fran Ushers in a Revolutionary Era in Gene Intervention Technology!"
"Oh, was I this amazing? Truly worthy of me…"
Though she had never been interviewed nor had a research team, she seemed quite satisfied, reading it twice before reluctantly putting it away.
She tucked the magazine into her coat pocket and turned to the diary.
Most pages had been torn out, leaving only a few entries.
-
January 30th.
Director Julie is always dissatisfied with me. I don't know where this hostility comes from. But fortunately, she hasn't crossed any lines. Maybe she simply doesn't like me? Sometimes the way she looks at me is strange, like something is burning in her eyes.
-
April 9th.
As expected, Julie began deliberately targeting me. She tirelessly nitpicks every trivial matter, as if enjoying it. Why? Because my family background is better? …I told John about it. He comforts me each time, saying things will get better. I hope so…
-
The next page was creased and torn, the trembling handwriting stained as if wet by liquid.
-
May 15th.
My father and mother were in a car accident. The police said the brake components failed. As their only child, I inherited everything.
-
May 20th.
My wedding with John is approaching. He urges me to proceed as planned. Perhaps that's for the best… I've begun losing sleep. Everything feels unreal—like a dream. I still can't believe Mom and Dad left me like this…
-
The diary ended abruptly.
"Although I can mostly guess the rest, you can't just give me half a diary…"
Fran narrowed her eyes, clearly displeased. She hated being forced to stop mid-analysis.
"Hmm… one newspaper left."
The headline read:
"Partial Remains of Missing Doctor Julie Jane Discovered — Identity Confirmed by Genetic Match."
"September 13th. After missing for half a month, Julie Jane has been confirmed dead. Only her internal organs were found. Is this human corruption or moral collapse? The demon who killed the white-clad angel—where is he hiding? We do not know…"
Lower on the page was another report:
"Genius or Madwoman? Dr. Fran Faces Serious Illegal Experimentation Charges."
Dozens of former experimental patients have submitted evidence. Public hearing scheduled for noon, October 30th.
After confirming nothing else remained, Fran tossed the papers aside.
"Director Julie is already dead—likely by Themis's hand. And it's known she had a fiancé named John. Besides that, 'I' also seem to be in trouble."
"So including myself, there are three victims."
Fran pondered briefly, then looked toward the sealed chamber door.
⸻
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