Chapter 41

“Huh? So it actually works?” Lu Xiusi pulled out the medical record and handed it to Kraft, pointing to the altered “hypersomnia” field.

“Dr. Li Si thought it didn’t reach hypersomnia level, so he crossed it out. I wasn’t sure whether to note it in the remarks.”

Kraft seemed not to hear what Lu Xiusi was saying—he took the record and flipped straight to the first page, scanning for the patient’s occupation and address.

“Baker, third building north on Elm Street? Where is that?”

“I’m not sure—it’s probably a small alley. I don’t know exactly where, and we haven’t done a home visit for this patient yet.”

Lu Xiusi knew the local streets of Wendeng Harbor well, but if asked the exact name of a specific road, he could only recall a few he frequented.

Too many intersecting alleys, too many strange names—ordinary names like this were forgotten the moment you saw them.

“When you noted it, didn’t you ever think you might have to visit?” Kraft demanded.

“Uh, I didn’t write it—Li Si did. Maybe he knows where it is?” Lu Xiusi quickly distanced himself. He sensed something was wrong; any flaw in the record must not be tied to him—let Li Si handle it.

“Let’s go find Li Si.”

Grabbing the medical record, Kraft abandoned his current work without hesitation and prepared to leave.

Oh no, Lu Xiusi thought, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. He hurried after him, frantically recalling whether any mistakes in the record were his own—if they couldn’t locate the exact address, this would become a problem.

Fortunately, Kraft maintained his usual reputation for good breeding—he merely led Lu Xiusi back quickly to the clinic, intercepting Li Si as he packed up to leave.

“I need to confirm something urgently, so I came myself,” Kraft said, pressing Li Si back into his chair and handing him the record.

“Are you certain the patient described his waking time as delayed and difficulty being roused? Did he specify how much later?”

Li Si jumped, glancing at Lu Xiusi hiding behind him, who gave him a look of “good luck.”

“Yes, it’s this patient.”

“So how late exactly?” Kraft showed unusual persistence on this point.

“Let me think… I think… he didn’t make it clear. He said he used to arrive at the bakery before the bell rang seven times, but now he wakes up right around that time.”

“Hmm, about an hour later. Does anyone in his family have similar symptoms?”

“He didn’t say,” Li Si replied, sounding guilty, as if he’d never asked.

Fortunately, Kraft didn’t press further on this—he changed the subject. “Do you know where Elm Street is? I’m not familiar with Wendeng Harbor.”

“Why the sudden question?” Li Si couldn’t follow the sudden shift.

Kraft retrieved the record, flipped to the first page, and saw a black circle drawn over the address field, isolating it from all other information.

He pushed the paper back toward Li Si. “I don’t know yet if I’m overthinking this, so try to recall—where exactly is it?”

His tone was calm, yet somehow carried an undercurrent of emotion—not annoyance at being interrupted, nor frustration with others, but a quiet unease no listener could comprehend.

Li Si met his gaze. Kraft’s face showed no expression, his eyes fixed intently on him, radiating an indescribable pressure.

“A small street, near Salt Tide District. I’ve been there before, so I remember a bit.”

“Sss… Salt Tide District?” This was the third time he’d heard that word in days. Kraft had a grim suspicion. “Do you have a map? I want to see where it is.”

The hired worker’s words from days ago flashed through his mind: “My wife,” “my neighbor too,” “hard to wake up.”

“Who would have such a thing?”

“Then draw me a sketch. I just need to know how close it is to Salt Tide District.” Kraft pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and handed it to Li Si with a pen.

Though no concrete evidence had been found yet, Kraft’s suspicion grew stronger—he felt he might have to overturn his earlier judgment on the previous case. The situation was far more complex than he’d imagined.

His initial assessment of the hired worker named Gary was that environmental changes had disrupted his and his neighbors’ sleep schedules. In the harsh conditions of Salt Tide District, this explanation was most plausible.

Another possibility was infectious disease—Kraft had considered it. But since Gary and his wife showed no other symptoms—no fever, cough, diarrhea, nothing—he had dismissed it due to lack of clues.

This case on Elm Street immediately put him on alert—he realized he’d made a basic mistake: he hadn’t asked Gary whether others besides his neighbor shared similar symptoms.

Li Si scribbled on the paper, explaining to Lu Xiusi and Kraft as he drew.

“This black area—we’ll call it Salt Tide District. It’s roughly in the southeast part of Wendeng Harbor. No one could possibly draw its exact map.”

He filled an irregular shape with black shading, labeled it “SALT TIDE DISTRICT” in large letters, then drew two vertical lines to the left.

The lines were straight, the shading even and natural—evidence of an anatomy lecturer’s strong drafting skills. Using such precision for this was truly overkill.

“These two lines are Elm Street.” He marked each end with a letter to indicate direction. “Consider it north-south, though not perfectly straight, and very short.”

“How accurate is the scale?” Kraft moved behind Li Si, studying the two lines.

“Roughly one-third the north-south width of Salt Tide District. I don’t have a good sense of long distances.”

A horizontal line cut off the end of Elm Street. “I forgot the name of this street, but Elm Street ends here. So the house we’re looking for is?”

“Third building from the north,” Lu Xiusi reminded.

Kraft added: “East or west side? This street can’t have only one side, right?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think to ask.”

What he’d thought was detailed now seemed unreliable.

“Forget it—it doesn’t matter that much. Asking one extra house won’t hurt. Just mark the location.”

Under Kraft’s urging, Li Si paused, then drew an X where he estimated the house to be—not far from the northwest corner of Salt Tide District.

The room fell silent. Li Si and Lu Xiusi stared at Kraft, waiting for him to explain why he suddenly cared so much.

Kraft sat beside Li Si, took the paper and pen, and added another X to the northwest of Salt Tide District.

“Too close,” he murmured. “Far too close.”

“What’s this?” Lu Xiusi leaned in curiously. Based on the sketch alone, the distance between the two X’s was less than one-third the length of Elm Street.

Kraft drew a dashed line connecting the two points. “I previously treated another hired worker named Gary. His description was similar, but far more severe.”

“Not just him—he claimed his wife and neighbors were the same: waking later and harder to rouse. I thought it was just a localized issue around his home.”

“Now, with this case you found, I suspect a connection.” Kraft added two more X’s beside the one in Salt Tide District, forming a cluster of three.

“Could it be related to Clearing Tincture?” Lu Xiusi naturally linked the prolonged sleep to the dilution’s effects—it was almost like a weakened version.

“That makes no sense. No other patients have ever reported this. Kraft, did Gary or his wife ever use it?” For both emotional and logical reasons, Li Si didn’t want this tied to Clearing.

Kraft shook his head. He too had unconsciously connected it to the black liquid and its dilution, “Clearing,” but the logic didn’t hold. “No. We have records of everyone who used it. I can confirm Gary’s family never did.”

A cluster of cases, linked in time and space. The possibility of infectious disease reappeared before Kraft.

The famous cockroach law states: when you first spot one cockroach, there are likely already many more in the house. Kraft fully endorsed this theory and believed it universally applicable.

He drew a circle centered on the connected dashed line, enclosing a large portion of Salt Tide District and surrounding residential areas.

“If we’ve encountered it twice, there are certainly more. I suspect its scope is far larger than this circle—and possibly expanding outward.”

“Plague?!” Li Si’s eyes widened. “Don’t scare me—we already have two of us who’ve directly contacted patients.”

“Just a hypothesis. It’s not necessarily contagious through contact, and the symptoms don’t match. We need further proof.”

Kraft stared at the circle, imagining a previously unknown disease emerging from Salt Tide District, spreading gradually outward.

His finger traced the outline of Salt Tide District. In such unsanitary, overcrowded conditions, transmission within the district would be far faster than beyond it—yet far harder to investigate.

Either way, he needed more cases, more detailed information, to define a more accurate range and prove his hypothesis.

“We can’t just sit here,” Kraft stood up, silently mourning the days of work he’d lose. “Whether it’s real or not, I’m going over there. Are you coming?”

“You’re serious?” Li Si didn’t agree with Kraft’s view. Investigating this offered no benefit. Wrong guess wastes time; right guess risks life.

“I’ll go with you. Besides, we only have two beak masks.” Lu Xiusi’s self-preservation instincts were strong—his inherited “better safe than sorry” mindset, passed down from Kraft.