Bear School Astartes

Lann walked into the dim alley.

The glowing cat eyes, under the influence of the magic potion, saw the scene clearly.

First, he took off the gauntlets of his "Smaug," exposing nimble and accurate fingers.

Then, as he walked inside, he pulled out a set of medical instruments from the alchemy pouch at his back waist, which he prepared anew each time.

He placed the entire set of instruments on both sides of the small alley, atop the stacked tombstones.

Then he drew out glass test tubes and a small surgical knife.

Gray blood disease, beastification, Holy Blood, blood treatment... It seems that as long as you talk about Yan’an, you have to mention ’blood.’

Lann’s goal was none other than the blood of those who succumbed at the final stages of gray blood disease.

This scene, without a doubt, had been cleaned by the Healing Church.

But only so that the city’s atmosphere wouldn’t be too terrible and desperate, cleaning just the small segment at the alley’s entrance.

Merely so when people passed by and glanced inside, they wouldn’t instantly realize what had happened here.

But actually, as long as you step into the shadows and walk a bit further... during a plague, if the managers lack control capacity, there are many scenes that can’t be completely cleaned.

Even if one dares not send people to clean them.

And since the Healing Church had cleaned just the few steps within the alley entrance, the remaining chaotic scenes could basically be considered too troublesome for them.

How many people die in this city daily due to gray blood disease? Who has the ability to clean everything thoroughly?

Lann knelt on one knee, bending down, those eyes seriously examining the traces on the ground.

Just as he saw with his own eyes that day, when the corpse of a gray blood patient was dragged and cleaned by the idiotic giant, quite a bit of blood flowed out.

This blood appears like brewed sesame paste.

Grayish-white and sticky.

Even exposed in the open air for so long, it just seemed even stickier, tending towards solid yet not completely dry.

The surgical knife in Lann’s hand stirred amongst the gray blood, making a sticky sound like batter being mixed.

His gentle and precise technique scraped the already clumped, sticky gray blood into the test tube, letting it slide down the tube wall.

Sealed and stored properly.

To ensure sample volume, Lann additionally drew three other test tubes, collecting gray blood at three different spots to ensure he wasn’t just collecting blood from one person.

These were the traces in the alley, in the dim shadows where the tall and armored demon hunter pushed open the already ajar door.

He walked into the house in this alley.

Lann frowned, waving his hand around his face to dispel dust and stench.

The house still showed the Victorian-era decor style, with wooden furniture and floors, and walls with kerosene lamps no longer bright.

Yet the woven tablecloth had become dirty, layered with thick dust, mixed with what might be the patient’s saliva, sweat, or some other liquid, forming a filthy mess.

Used plates stacked in the sink, even metal ones, mold due to food residues.

The plague didn’t instantly claim this family’s lives.

It first weakened them, then in a gradual, more severe weakness, led them to death.

This family had caught the plague, no one wanted to help them, nor were they allowed out by those around.

So, they could only desperately endure, living off the Healing Church’s charity, praying they could pull through the gray blood disease, at least until a spot opened in the Healing Church’s research hall.

But unmistakably, none of them waited for that.

Lann was uncertain whether he felt melancholic for their death, or relieved for their ’relatively quick’ passing.

The demon hunter crouched in the corner of the room, his hand casually rummaging through a cloth bag.

The cloth bag bore the Healing Church’s emblem, filled with dry bread, dried sausages, blood sausages, and such.

This family caught the plague, but while the Healing Church disallowed them to leave, they surely ensured they wouldn’t die from hunger.

Lann searched the house, hoping to find some critical clues.

But the house was already chaotic; you can’t expect a family infected by the plague, facing daily increasing proximity to death, to remain calm and clean.

So, the place was full of broken furniture smashed in anger and fear, dirty floors, scattered debris, various pills.

Despite Mentos’ assistance, even though each search was meticulous, this chaotic environment still hindered Lann greatly, finding nothing valuable.

Until Lann was walking from the first floor up the stairs to the second, a very faint ’click’ sound was made.

At first, the demon hunter didn’t pay much attention.

Because of the myriad small objects on the floor, stepping on them with his boots and breaking them to produce sound seemed normal.

His keen hearing picked it up; otherwise, average people likely wouldn’t notice.

But just as Lann stepped on the stairs again...

"Hiss~"

His body suddenly stopped on the stairs, nostrils flaring, expression suspicious.

Initially unsure, Lann sniffed again, then his gaze went to his feet.

The boot with smooth armor plating lightly moved aside, revealing beneath Lann’s gaze a small oil-paper triangle package.

The oil-paper package had already been crushed by the boot, revealing several broken white tablets inside.

The Demon Hunter retreated two steps on the wooden stairs with a ’thud-thud,’ bending close enough to carefully observe these small tablets.

But most importantly, it was his repeatedly focused sniffing.

"The smell of these tablets..."

The Demon Hunter murmured.

While speaking, Lann’s hand subconsciously touched the tubes of Gray Blood Patient’s blood samples he had just collected.

The scent in the chaotic and dilapidated room was complex, a mixture of rotting food, lingering body odor of the patient before death, and the smell of kerosene lamps...

Yet, with the targeted supernatural senses of the Demon Hunter and Mentos’ olfactory data corrections, he accurately identified the scent he was most concerned with.

None of the glass sample tubes on him were shattered. And the residue from the Gray Blood Patient was still some distance away from here.

But from these broken white tablets, the scent was precisely that of the Gray Blood Patient’s blood!

Lann pinched one of the broken tablets through a sheet of paper with his fingers.

The shape of the tablets was quite common; just white medicine powder compressed into tablets.

But considering the appearance of the Gray Blood Patient’s blood.

If their blood were dried and ground into powder, mixed into the tablets, the shape might not show any abnormality.

But if the Gray Blood Patient’s blood was truly processed in such a way...

"This can’t be the scent of the patient’s blood stuck to the tablets, sir. The scent only leaked out after you crushed the tablets."

Mentos calmly stated in his mind.

"These were added during the tablet-making process, which means... it’s deliberate."

Deliberate... plague?

The Demon Hunter’s expression remained unchanged; he had already prepared himself mentally for this aspect.

He just didn’t expect that... the transmission of the plague was made into tablets?

Furthermore, these tablets...

Lann fiddled with the oil-paper triangle he had crushed with his boot.

At the same time, his other hand pulled out another oil-paper triangle from his body.

This was the gift from the red-robed person when he was leaving the Good Golden Cup Church.

Said to be ’the last help they could offer.’

Could this be the means of spreading the plague?

Is the rampage of the Gray Blood Plague the handiwork of the Good Golden Cup Church?

If it were most people in anger at this juncture, they would already have seven or eight parts of skepticism.

But Lann’s gaze was steady.

He first sealed the confirmed problematic tablets and oil-paper in a tube.

Then he opened the oil-paper triangle given by the red-robed person he was holding and poured out one tablet.

It was the first time he opened Henrik’s ’useless against the plague, decent for detoxification’ tablet.

The appearance was identical to the tablets on the ground earlier.

However, after breaking open the tablet, even close examination failed to uncover the scent of the Gray Blood Patient’s blood.

At this point, Lann’s eyes showed a certain expression.

Judging who did a deed based solely on surface traces is too simplistic for this world.

Misleading, disguising, impersonating... the modes of conflict and sabotage are varied.

Hot-headedness and impulsiveness are qualities most easily manipulated.

Luckily, in terms of knowledge and experience, Lann is not someone easily fooled.

His eyes, slightly brightened by the ingestion of Magic Potion, surveyed the dilapidated house from the stairs.

"The Good Golden Cup Church’s tablets are ineffective against the plague, just able to detoxify a bit. The Yan Nan People should know this clearly by now."

"And therefore, the Good Golden Cup Church’s reputation and control in Yan’an are visibly being replaced by the Healing Church."

He lifted up the tube containing the tablets and oil-paper.

"But during this rampant plague, anything that can offer a bit of solace, people will seek and use."

"Thus, the tablets themselves having detoxification properties are no exception."

With a mindset of prevention, many Yan Nan People probably consumed quite a few.

But if the consumed ones were indeed tablets distributed by the Good Golden Cup Church, they would only slightly burden the kidneys with drug metabolism.

However, if what was consumed was this kind of thing...

Lann lacked the conditions to study the Gray Blood Plague that ravages Old Yan’an; he doesn’t know its transmission and pathogenic mechanisms.

But distributing tablets mixed with the blood of Gray Blood Patients, crafted to resemble those from the Good Golden Cup Church...

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