Eldritch Horror Theatre

"No. What does it have to do with a Nightmare?"

Yet at this casual inquiry, Mrs. Winslow became instantly alert.

Shedding her earlier tact, she denied it with absolute firmness.

So it really was after the large-scale outbreak of Nightmares.

He hadn't spotted anything to confirm the date on his way here, but Mrs. Winslow's current reaction spoke volumes.

Although the Celestial Sphere Cult preferred secrecy, suppressing the news completely was undoubtedly difficult with so many Nightmare victims.

Even the white-haired Mrs. Harper had picked up on enough to form conspiracy theories. The Winslow Family was clearly wealthy and influential, so it was only natural they were even better informed.

Otherwise, she would have no reason to react so strongly to the word "Nightmare."

The unusual changes in her daughter, if coupled with a Nightmare experience, would undoubtedly make her a prime target for the Hunters.

The sternness deep in her eyes suggested she was ready to throw him out at any moment.

"At first glance, her body has no obvious issues."

Fu Qian, however, was completely unaffected by the tense doctor-patient atmosphere. He smoothly took out a few instruments and held them over the patient.

"Of course, I need to do further checks to be sure. So, do you want me to continue?"

...

One of the items Fu Qian took from the Medical Visit Box was a Slender Piercing Needle. It gleamed with a cold light, its sharpness intimidating.

Honestly, to his eye, the thing looked more like a torture instrument than a medical device, and Mrs. Winslow clearly shared the sentiment.

Staring at a needle tip that looked capable of piercing a skull, and unsettled by Fu Qian's unapologetic tone, Mrs. Winslow was momentarily at a loss for words.

"I apologize for my wife's strong reaction earlier. Please, continue."

In the silence, a nearby door suddenly opened. Another voice answered for her as a figure stepped into the room.

The newcomer was about the same age as Mrs. Winslow. He sported a neatly trimmed mustache and appeared somewhat thin and dark-skinned at first glance.

Without a doubt, this was Mister Winslow, who had been avoiding them until now.

Compared to Mrs. Winslow, he was distinctly calmer.

He walked over to stand beside her, gently patting his wife's hand to soothe her nerves.

It wasn't hard to guess why he had been hiding out of sight.

Although The Order's exact stance on harboring contamination was unclear, what the family was doing now was undoubtedly taboo. Having only one person act as the public face might offer more room to maneuver if things went south.

All in all, it just went to show how important it was to have a clear-headed family member in the room.

"Left hand."

Praising the man's tact inwardly, Fu Qian wasted no more time and motioned toward Jane.

Though Jane hadn't spoken a word this whole time, she had clearly been listening closely. Blinking her large eyes, she cooperatively held out her hand.

But no amount of innocent eye-batting was going to make Fu Qian hold back.

Without hesitation, he brought the needle down, piercing her frail middle finger.

As an expert in flesh and blood, his aim was flawless.

Even from a wealthy young lady lacking the strength to truss a chicken, blood flowed out readily. He collected every single drop in the very spoon he had just used to examine the Mirror, wasting nothing.

"Is this bloodletting? Will a method like this actually help?"

Awed by Fu Qian's fluid movements, Mister and Mrs. Winslow didn't even question whether the medical instrument was appropriate. Instead, they immediately tried to understand his intentions.

"Just further confirmation. We aren't at the treatment stage yet."

Keeping his eyes locked on his harvest, Fu Qian simply repeated what he had said earlier.

His unshakeable composure only reinforced his persona as a highly trained professional.

Far from being offended, Mister and Mrs. Winslow promptly shut their mouths, clearly rethinking the wisdom of questioning a professional at work.

...

"Thank you."

Just as the blood from Jane's finger stopped oozing, Fu Qian's container was nearly filled to the brim.

He gestured for her to pull her hand back. After that, he ignored his patient completely and focused his entire attention on the blood sample.

He didn't pull out any messy solvents or chemical liquids to add to it. Instead, he brought the spoon straight to his nose and took a sniff.

The blood of a perfectly healthy youth. This problem is a bit serious!

A moment later, he let out a soft sigh.

"Doctor, did you find anything?"

Unable to make sense of his olfactory diagnostic method, the Winslow couple could no longer bear to stay quiet.

"No."

Fu Qian shook his head slightly, telling the plain truth.

And that was precisely the problem.

His mission for this trip was to purify the Blasphemous Blood inside Miss Winslow.

In the simplest scenario, her flesh and blood would have genuinely suffered some kind of contamination, leading to the abnormality in her eyes.

If that were the case, even someone like him who didn't usually do medical work could perform a targeted operation. It wouldn't be too hard to solve.

Yet, from the moment he walked in, everything his senses picked up about her told him she was perfectly normal.

That held true even after drawing a sample of her blood.

This pointed to a far less favorable possibility: the term "Blasphemous Blood" wasn't meant to be taken literally. Instead, it was an abstract concept referring to her current state.

An abstract influence so subtle that even he could hardly detect it naturally brought one thing to mind—the commandments he had encountered so many times before.

If the blasphemy existed on that level, curing her was going to be monumentally more difficult.

Of course, that didn't necessarily mean the task itself would be hard to complete.

The Containment Conditions only specified purifying the Blasphemous Blood. They never said the subject had to survive the process.

He had just witnessed professional purification techniques earlier that day.

Theoretically, if Miss Winslow was reduced to ash and scattered to the wind, the Blasphemous Blood would definitely be thoroughly purified.

But he had a healer's compassionate heart. Such extreme remedies were best saved as an absolute last resort.

He wasn't the type of doctor to prescribe antibiotics for every situation.

...

"She's not sick..."

Fu Qian wasn't the only one unhappy with the expert diagnosis. The patient's family didn't seem too thrilled either.

Mister Winslow was holding up fairly well, but his wife was murmuring to herself, a look of sheer bewilderment on her face.

It made perfect sense. There had to be an explanation for Miss Winslow's condition, and if an illness wasn't the cause, that only left the possibility of dark, unnatural contamination.

In that case, the ones handling her treatment would be the Order Hunters.

That was why they sought this diagnosis in the first place. The couple clearly wanted to find some abnormality, but an abnormality that still fell within the realm of ordinary human illness.

"Don't panic just yet. It's only a preliminary diagnosis."

Fu Qian offered a natural word of comfort.

"I still need to run a further analysis."

Further analysis?

This phrasing clearly drew a lot of confusion, but hearing that there was still a chance, Mrs. Winslow's expression visibly brightened.

Of course, that burst of hope only lasted for half a second.

A moment later, they watched as the physician they had hired for a hefty sum tilted his head back and dumped the entire spoonful of blood straight into his mouth.

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