[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies":3,"chapter-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-136":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Notes on Kraft Anomalous Studies",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2283614,4467,"Chapter 136: Sir Ma Ding","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-136",136,"\u003Cp>The benefactor had barely finished speaking when hurried footsteps scrambled across the deck, followed by several splashes as men jumped overboard in quick succession; those who missed the spectacle immediately set up betting pools on the spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That shout drew not only those willing to help, but also crewmen who heard there was entertainment—faster than Kraft and Ma Ding, they rushed to the upper deck, crowded along the rail to join the onlookers and betting circle, cheering for their chosen swimmers and critiquing their strokes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The situation quickly devolved into farce. Many of the skilled sailors had grown up along the warmer waters of the Tem River, where swimming had been their childhood pastime; rescuing a drowning man held neither difficulty nor seriousness for them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ma Ding pushed through the crowd first, crossbow in hand, reaching the rail just as the fastest swimmer neared the sinking figure. So far, it sank more than it rose—the splashes were growing smaller, but the sailor should still be able to pull the man aboard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The atmosphere was electric. Winners collected a coin or two in stakes, while companions laughed and cursed the losers, handing over their coins. Ma Ding still held his crossbow, watching; Kraft strongly suspected that if the target stirred again, he would fire another arrow regardless of the risk of hitting the rescuer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But for now, that worry was unnecessary. One sailor dove beneath the surface and resurfaced, having hooked the drowning man under the armpits, gripping his chest. The following rescuers did not turn back immediately; instead, they paused briefly, helping to support the victim’s body as they swam back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sailors at the rail lowered a rope ladder to welcome them aboard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire rescue went smoothly—there was none of the frantic tugging common in ordinary drownings, sparing the sailors considerable effort. The man lay limp as if unconscious, obediently allowing them to drag him to the rail and haul him onto the deck, requiring no extra hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everything was excellent: skilled technique, timely response, teamwork, and safety awareness—if only the rescued man were still alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft reached the drowning man’s side; his professional instincts immediately sensed something deeply wrong. A sickly pallor dominated his skin; his chest showed no sign of breathing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He placed his fingers two finger-widths beside the trachea for a moment—it felt like touching freshly thawed meat. No pulse, only a chilling cold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By standard rescue protocol, if he still hoped the man could speak, he should clear the airway and begin CPR immediately. But the two crossbow bolts’ impact sites made him abandon the idea.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first bolt—the one that ruined his swimming posture—had struck his thigh, rendering someone without pain tolerance utterly incapacitated, reduced to flailing in place. The second bolt pierced from behind, near the shoulder blade, entering around the eighth intercostal space, creating an open pneumothorax, then angled upward through the mediastinum between the lungs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mediastinum contained too many vital structures: esophagus, trachea, aorta, the heart at roughly the same level. Chest compressions were impossible with that object still inside, extraction was unfeasible, and emergency surgery couldn’t resolve such a complex trauma.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short: wait for death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oh, perhaps no waiting was needed—he was almost certainly already dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon seeing the victim’s condition, the onlookers immediately scattered, noticing the crossbow in Ma Ding’s hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This damned heretic poisoned the food, intending to murder the faithful of the Lord.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Excellent. First, draw a line: label it heresy, aligning himself with the crew as fellow believers. Such practiced maneuvering clearly marked him as a member of a violent organization with prior experience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In truth, no explanation was needed. If a man carried a sword, carried a portable crossbow, and openly declared he had killed the man and offered a reward for retrieval, it was obvious he held special status and legitimate authority—or you’d better acknowledge it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The atmosphere grew tense. The sailors were unsure whether to allow Ma Ding’s actions—he showed no tangible evidence. Only when the captain arrived, having been alerted, and learned the full story from the crew did things shift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A heretic? Poisoned? That’s truly dreadful…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He placed poisoned berries in my fruit platter,” Kraft stepped forward to explain. The evidence remained, though no one could prove it came from the corpse. Thanks to his indirect connection with William and the captain, his word carried some credibility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The captain wanted to throw Ma Ding overboard immediately, but considering he was a friend of a friend, and recognizing his clearly unusual status, he gritted his teeth and assumed the role of temporary maritime judge: “I need to see those berries—and his cabin.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ll handle the explanation to the port authorities when we next dock. We’re pursuing these individuals; I hope no one speaks out after we disembark.” The man spoke with utter confidence, casually sliding the crossbow back beneath his robe, even taking the upper hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In truth, the matter was already settled. The captain held temporary maritime jurisdiction, but not over someone who looked dangerously powerful, clearly of high standing, and unwilling to reveal his identity. If this man was so certain local officials wouldn’t touch him, then let the port authorities deal with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t touch anything on the body,” Ma Ding said, then turned and walked with the captain toward the cabin, his expression grim—perhaps he had hoped the man pulled up would still be alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, belladonna was found in the cabin, half-empty in a small basket, placed alongside baskets of other berries—clearly intended to be mixed and served to the victim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps the man hadn’t anticipated the perfect opportunity: someone who remembered the exact position of every blueberry. Ma Ding and Kraft struck back so swiftly, confronting him without alerting anyone, leaving him no time to clean up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he made his second mistake: he exposed himself and tried to flee by swimming. Normally, that wouldn’t be a mistake—he swam well. But not well enough to outrun the custom portable crossbow Kraft had never seen before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The captain’s face was no better than Ma Ding’s. A professional assassin’s poison had been smuggled aboard—and thank the gods the target was a passenger, not someone else. Had it been placed on the dining table, half the ship would have been dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ll testify for you, but I can’t possibly continue the voyage. Our contract doesn’t cover this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No problem. The next port is our destination: Westminster. After that, this ship has nothing to do with it.” Ma Ding handed the half-full basket of belladonna to Kraft, who was thoroughly satisfied. “Also, I need to temporarily borrow this cabin.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“To place the body.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shoved unrelated items aside, clearing the floor, then carried the corpse back to the very place it had just escaped from.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I assume you want to explain something to me—and you should.” Kraft closed the door and posed the question he’d anticipated. He could suppress curiosity and politely avoid prying into others’ secrets. But when it concerned himself, that rule changed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A clearly professionally trained armed operative—his sword suggested he wasn’t a knight, but at least a knightly squire-in-training, sent to deliver a letter to an academic gathering in Weijie Harbor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fine. But he also carried a custom crossbow. His smooth drawing motion came from repeated use, not last-minute panic. If even messengers are this skilled, is the school’s security force sweeping the entire kingdom? When is the king going to replace the Rives University chancellor?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft couldn’t pretend ignorance anymore. Something had to be explained today.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is complicated.” The situation had arisen suddenly; Ma Ding had shot a living man without hesitation, yet offered no immediate explanation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had many secrets, but most clearly couldn’t be disclosed at his own discretion. His hesitation revealed much: this situation was unplanned. Whatever his affiliation or whose will he served, things had already slipped partially from their control.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trouble. Kraft would rather hear him say firmly, “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t—just follow me,” than face a teammate lost in thought—even a temporary one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then let’s change tactics. You don’t have to speak.” Compared to waiting for reluctant answers, direct questioning fit the doctor’s habits better. “I’ll ask. You answer yes or no. If you don’t wish to answer, refuse. That’s fair, isn’t it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ma Ding nodded. At this point, a compromise both could accept was best.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“First—is this academic gathering invitation real?” If he couldn’t answer that, Kraft would swim back to Weijie Harbor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this question, Ma Ding relaxed slightly. “Yes. The academic gathering, held every three years, is a Rives University tradition. All academies participate. In recent sessions, the invitation has expanded to include scholars who’ve made breakthrough contributions in medicine.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What about the honorary professorship?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Also true. The Oak Leaf Medal has already been prepared in the hall—cast in gold, set with emeralds by artisans who’ve served Westminster Castle for generations. It is a symbol of honor meant to be passed down alongside armor.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright…” Kraft temporarily accepted it. These details were hard to fake. But why would someone try to assassinate a harmless man who’d merely come to collect an award?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So the ‘heretic’ you mentioned earlier was just made up?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No. It’s true.” Ma Ding’s face twisted again with that familiar mix of irritation and revulsion. He kicked the corpse, then pulled up the waterlogged thin shirt, searching for something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“There’s a heretical sect in Westminster Castle with a ring as its symbol. They cause trouble everywhere—extorting money, murders, strange rituals. We’ve hanged many, but never managed to root them out cleanly.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ring symbol, extortion, rituals, too big to control… Kraft thought deeply. I strongly suspect you’re hinting at a centuries-old organization with strongholds across the kingdom, vast numbers of followers, industrialized operations, its own armed forces, and hated by nearly every noble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Kraft’s misinterpretation, Ma Ding immediately corrected himself: “Their symbol is only a single ring. Like this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He peeled off the shirt and turned the corpse over. A poorly done tattooed ring appeared, etched around an old scar, encircling a slightly raised patch of discolored healed tissue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Their custom: they mark any wound on the body with a circle. Blind fanatics without wounds will create one themselves—cutting, burning, anything.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What about the Inquisition and local lords?” For such a thing to thrive near Westminster—so close to the kingdom’s center, the king’s doorstep, a region dominated by the Church—was an unthinkable disgrace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“These damned heretics pose as Church members to preach. Even their doctrines are rewritten from the Holy Scripture. Those who can’t even write their own names have been deceived for years before they’re discovered!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Worse, they rewrite it convincingly. Even Church knights might not know the texts better. The Church lacks manpower—and how could these lords possibly investigate on their own?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was it possible this wasn’t a splinter sect excommunicated from the Church? Kraft wanted to ask—but considering Ma Ding’s mood, he swallowed the question and pressed on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Does this have anything to do with the academic gathering?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No.” Ma Ding flatly denied any connection. “My only duty is ensuring your safe arrival in Westminster and your participation in the duties of a professor. These matters outside medicine are irrelevant.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A straightforward answer, though its credibility remained questionable. If he truly had been invited for medical reasons, this hardly seemed like a pure academic gathering or honor-bestowing ceremony.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were all fronts—designed to lure Kraft here, and to deceive others. They needed medical aid, using the academic gathering as cover, sending a trusted escort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But this did happen—right here. A ‘irrelevant’ heretic placed poison berries in my fruit platter. Do you believe this is coincidence, Mr. Ma Ding?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’t know…” Uncertainty clouded his face. Every word he spoke sounded hollow. He couldn’t understand how this half-professional assassination had occurred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their itinerary had been exposed—and a heretic had come.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Did the letter mention a high-ranking figure coming to bestow the medal?” Kraft speculated casually, broadening the scope.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is it related to the lecture topics at the gathering?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Besides the gathering, what else do you need me to do?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fine. Everything was a mess: an invitation with unknown purpose, linked to a heretical sect entrenched in the blind spots of nobility and Church, a guide who stammered and held no authority.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, Sir Ma Ding—your name is real, at least?” Kraft picked up the basket, opened the door that wouldn’t latch, as if suddenly remembering the most trivial question.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes… huh?” Ma Ding, having endured the barrage of questions, answered instinctively to his usual title.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ah… Sir Ma Ding.\u003C\u002Fp>",2096,"2026-06-20T02:15:55.761Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","d0d1bdf88d0fe8b98f98aab6296cc9f508f0e611ea90c8e76157aab3b19a2462","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-137","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-135",406,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fnotes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-cover.jpg"]