Chapter 193: The Education Issue (End of Volume)

"I'm glad you're willing to talk. I assure you, this conversation will remain strictly between the two of us." Kraft poured hot tea, brought over a cushioned armchair with armrests, and said, "Koop, would you mind stepping out for a moment? Remember to close the door when you leave."

Considering taste, he added two spoons of honey to one cup and pushed it toward the other person. "Relax. Whatever it is, it won't affect the good relationship between us. I will only view it from the perspective of treatment needs."

He adjusted his expression, putting on a gentle, appropriately non-condescending smile.

It wasn't hard; as long as one followed inner feelings, a natural smile would appear. Everything had been progressing smoothly lately. The demonstration of ether anesthesia technology had been a huge success, and riding that momentum, the society's first achievement since its founding was launched: artificial pneumothorax.

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The authority to allocate funds was gradually being opened up to him. He could withdraw directly from River University, and the amount was hard not to smile at. If necessary, he could even request assistance not limited to economic matters, using physical means to solve problems at his discretion.

The word "discretion" was worth pondering, but Martin seemed to have been promoted recently. On the Special Sensitivity Zone, he would surely lean toward the society with discretion.

The only thing worth worrying about was Yin Feng, but things had suddenly taken a turn for the better. Perhaps the information she provided could offer some help with the condition.

"No need to rush. I have nothing urgent to do. You can take your time." Kraft took a sip of hot tea, placed a plate of cookies on the table, moved the pending work into a drawer, and adopted an afternoon tea posture to try to ease the atmosphere.

In fact, as a rising star in academia with no equal at the moment, the pile of things waiting to be handled was mountain-high. After the gathering and demonstration, there was no need to wait until the next day; that very night, a large batch of letters arrived at his residence, including invitations from various individuals and groups, and requests hoping to arrange treatment through internal channels.

Letters could be handled anytime. It was rare for Yin Feng to come forward voluntarily.

Moreover, he didn't think it would be something requiring great effort. The girl had always appeared mature, sensible, and self-willed; a little external help would be enough to let her step out of the psychological shadow.

Kraft looked at her with an encouraging gaze, waiting for Yin Feng to speak.

"Whatever it is?"

In such an environment, the girl was still somewhat nervous. Her ten fingers gripped the cup tightly, creating the illusion that the cup walls were being squeezed slightly open.

"Of course, whatever it is." Kraft said solemnly, returning a sincere gaze. He hardly thought much about it; after all, in his view, no matter how big the matter was, it couldn't be that big.

His attitude encouraged Yin Feng. She observed Kraft's expression and found no hint of concealment.

The whisperer chattering incessantly in her mind seemed to have read her thoughts. The volume of information instantly intensified by an order of magnitude, as if moving from an empty room into a hall where everyone was whispering constantly, all voices repeating one message together:

【Leave!】

No, Yin Feng refused in her heart. She could be certain that was not her own idea. She hoped for something beyond the laws of nature to gain control over her fate, but if it intended to interfere with her own will, that would contradict her original intention. She would never submit to it.

Blowing lightly on the rising steam, she inhaled a mouthful of tea, moistening her throat. She composed herself and, with a hint of nervousness, spoke her first words of the day.

"Professor Bulimo is dead."

"He got what he deserved." Kraft commented, feeling much relieved. If Yin Feng's problem was just guilt over Bulimo's death, that was easy to solve.

"You probably don't know yet. Bulimo was the mastermind behind all this, directly causing the deaths of more than ten people and the disappearance of several others."

"Regardless of how he died, it was a bargain for him. If there is a hell, having his soul roasted in the soup pot of the deepest layer by flames until the world is destroyed wouldn't offset such crimes."

"Do you really think so?"

"Without a doubt."

"That's great." Yin Feng's expression became firm. She sat up straight and placed her teacup neatly on the table.

"I killed him."

"This isn't a big deal... huh?" Kraft was about to go with the flow and timely affirm the legitimacy of her actions, but his still-functioning brain short-circuited briefly after processing those words.

They were all words heard very clearly, but put together, they made one feel as if he had misheard something.

"I killed Professor Bulimo." Seeing he still didn't seem to understand, Yin Feng helpfully repeated it, adding the specific name.

"Huh?"

The development of the situation was obviously somewhat unexpected. The professor thoroughly analyzed the sentence for ambiguities such as grammar, homophones, and namesakes, and finally confirmed it was indeed the meaning he thought.

This could also explain why the usually mature Yin Feng was unwilling to be open and honest with him from the start.

Facing a guardian and teacher returning from a business trip, dusty and weary, no one would likely report what they had done that was shocking to the world at such a moment, adding burden to the other person's cardiovascular system.

Even so, he still held onto a sliver of hope.

"If your actions indirectly led to Bulimo's death, there's no need for pressure. Under those circumstances, his death was inevitable; dying sooner might have even reduced his suffering."

As the channel for the fungal spirit invasion into the mortal world, the caster would be the first to suffer, rotting amidst the fungal flood. The most terrifying thing was that, judging from the missionary seen, consciousness remained during this process.

"I killed him, with this." Yin Feng took a dagger from under her skirt and handed it to Kraft, holding the leather sheath.

Although its appearance had changed greatly, the weapon could still be recognized by its shape. It was a blade from the deep southern hills that had almost taken the lives of all the defenders, now polished bright and even more cold.

He realized that every second of hesitation now was a form of denial.

"Bulimo deserved to die." Kraft took the dagger, drew out a section, and the sheath seemed to carry a faint smell of rust left by the inexperienced polisher.

Weapons that had seen blood only once in this world were rare.

He began to recall whether his initial impression was flawed or if unintentional neglect had caused this current tricky problem.

Without a doubt, Yin Feng was completely right. If Kraft had been present, he would have done it even more thoroughly and poured two cans of kerosene for disinfection. But this was absolutely not something a normal person of her age could do.

After playing with the dagger for a while, he decided to return it to its original owner. Whether one held a dagger in hand was not the crux of the problem.

"You are very brave, but I do not wish for you to put yourself in danger." Kraft settled the nature of the matter.

Predictably, he would have to manage an entire society institution later, with complex personnel. But currently, the two wage-earners under him were showing a trend of slipping out of control in terms of cultivation expectations, and this feeling was growing stronger.

Koop was willing to follow the most direct path, seeking merit on the battlefield; whereas Yin Feng's goal should be to follow him and study in peace.

It hasn't even been a year yet.

"I want to help you." She raised her head, looking squarely at the man who had been trying to extend some non-existent childhood for months. She took the dagger and sheathed it at her waist. "Just like Koop."

"I'm glad you think so, but now is not the time." The southern study tour is about to reach its end; there lies the center of the spiderweb pointed to by the clues, the root of the black liquid incident. He will build momentum in Westmin, fully expand the current influence, and then seek an entry point to go there.

Of course, there was absolutely no place for Yin Feng in the plan. She had better stay quietly in the safety zone and undergo regular checkups.

"Killing one Bulimo proves nothing, nor does it mean you possess the power comparable to a truly professionally trained person. Besides..." Kraft wanted to correct this mistake.

The cup on the table was pushed forward.

Its capacity was small, yet after a few sips, it remained full to the brim, the taut liquid surface slightly higher than the rim. The cup walls were crumpled and dented like waste paper, with tiny fingerprints pressed into the silver cast patterns.

"I can. At least let me try."