Chapter 46: The Vanishing Part

Kraft held his sword, scanning the surroundings; with himself included, only three people remained at the scene.

The middle-aged man who had gone to fetch water sat on the ground, his bucket having rolled several meters away, its contents spilled everywhere. He had just returned from fetching water when Kraft suddenly drew his sword and struck the wooden wall behind him with a fierce blow, terrifying the man into throwing the bucket away.

Lu Xiusi trembled nearby; he had been the closest just now. That sword stroke had grazed his side; had it been any closer, he would have shared the same fate as the wooden wall.

Pressing his chest, his hand holding the suitcase shook uncontrollably. "So that blade was actually sharpened?"

He had long known that Kraft possessed a fine sword, but because Kraft always appeared as a scholar and a doctor, people assumed the weapon was merely a symbol of the family's martial history.

No one had ever imagined that Kraft would one day actually draw it.

"Perhaps I... had a nightmare?" Kraft drew his sword, looking around in confusion, found no threat, and reluctantly sheathed it. "Did anyone approach me just now?"

That insidious malice had come quickly and vanished just as fast, dissipating rapidly under the sunlight, bursting like soap bubbles, attempting to escape from memory.

Yet consciousness had faithfully recorded that sensation: a comfortable sinking, then sinking deeper, something quietly approaching, packaging itself with a smooth shell as part of a soft dream.

The hidden malice, exposed by a single flaw, created a shocking contrast that left Kraft trembling with fear upon recollection. It was like his favorite creamy soup suddenly rippling, irregular dark shapes swimming within the broth—something nauseating lurking beneath the surface.

Kraft felt he had indeed encountered something, dream or not. This encounter felt strangely familiar, giving him a very bad premonition.

Looking through the split fissure into the wooden wall, the house's owner had long since departed. The narrow, dim space was empty; it was impossible for a person to hide there, let alone pass through the wooden wall to create that sensation.

Kraft walked up to the middle-aged man, bent down, and helped him up. "I am very sorry; I assure you this was merely an accident. Your work is done; take the money and go back."

He reached out to brush the dust off the man's clothes but realized it was hard to say whether the garment or the ground was dirtier, so he abandoned the gesture and went to pick up the rolled bucket.

A little water remained in the bucket. Kraft simply poured it all out, watching the water level slowly drain. There was no turbidity, no floating debris; the clear water splashed a few mud spots onto the ground before seeping into the soil.

He had to admit it was far better than expected; he had assumed the water would be so murky the bottom of the bucket was invisible.

Visual inspection alone was insufficient; he needed to carry a bucket back to the academy to test it on a few animals. Fortunately, everyone had fled, allowing him to observe this well in the meantime.

Leaning over the well rim and looking down, the depths were pitch black, the bottom invisible. Facing such a deep well evoked a fear of falling in, uncontrollably imagining oneself rapidly approaching dark, cold waters within a narrow space.

It was as if below led to another world, entirely opposite to the world illuminated by sunlight; beyond a lightless, narrow tunnel lay an entrance.

The bucket, tied with a rope, descended all the way, bumping along the well walls until it touched the water surface.

Kraft wrapped the rope twice around his hand and pulled the bucket up. The water-filled wooden bucket felt somewhat heavy, as if it possessed its own will, tugging the person toward its position, wanting him to approach the other end.

He felt that strange sensation reappear, becoming distinct as he approached Jingkou.

Consciousness confirmed it was not a signal transmitted by smell, but some form of synesthesia; more special information attempting to express itself through the pathway of olfaction.

Without needing a reminder, Kraft recalled where he had experienced such a sensation before.

But... how could this be possible?

He strained to pull the rope, hauling the bucket out of Jingkou. The clear water showed no abnormalities. Yet intuition, or some higher-level sense grown from contact with anomalous things, insisted something unnatural was inside.

Kraft instinctively rejected this warning, but his consciousness involuntarily began working, correlating the new information with known memories.

"Lu Xiusi, could you come over for a moment?" He beckoned to Lu Xiusi.

The middle-aged man had already left; there were no outsiders nearby. Some matters needed reconfirmation.

Lu Xiusi approached the bucket, maintaining a subtle distance from Kraft, glanced at the well water inside, and asked, "What's wrong? Is it really a problem with the water?"

He still felt lingering fear from the sudden incident just now.

"I'm not sure; I just suddenly thought of other questions." Kraft paid no attention to his fidgeting, shaking the rope loose from where it was wrapped twice around his hand. "I need you to recall something; it might be somewhat offensive, but I must ask."

"As long as I can recall it, there's nothing I can't say. As a reward, may I look at your sword when we return?" Feeling that familiar Kraft had returned, Lu Xiusi felt much more at ease and turned his interest to Kraft's sword; what man could resist the temptation of a beautiful and useful weapon?

"Sure, as long as you don't cut your own hand." This request was entirely understandable; a fine sword was simply too cool.

"What I want to ask is, in the few days before Professor Kalman left, how did you feel his mental state was?"

"Huh? Why ask this suddenly?" Once again, Lu Xiusi felt he couldn't get along with someone whose thoughts jumped so wildly.

"Just tell me how it was. Was there a big difference from usual? Say anything." Since he hadn't realized why the question was being asked, that was even better; Kraft needed an answer as objective as possible, free from emotional interference.

Using the most casual tone possible, he created a relatively relaxed conversational atmosphere for Lu Xiusi, conducive to recalling more and speaking more freely.

Lu Xiusi stroked his beak thoughtfully and said, "Never better; he was even somewhat excited."

"Did you feel any change in his personality? Especially something inconsistent with his usual image." Once suspicion arose, everything seemed abnormal; that was Kraft's current mindset.

"If I must say, I felt he was too eager, always wanting to conduct more experiments as quickly as possible."

"So he spent most of his time in the laboratory?"

"I didn't notice that specifically; let me think carefully... At least the time the mentor left the academy daily didn't change much; it was always in the evening."

"Eager to complete more experiments within the academy, yet unwilling to stay a little longer?" Kraft had found the contradiction.

If that were all, it might be normal, but combined with the known facts, an unimaginable hypothesis emerged.

The implication was too obvious; even Lu Xiusi heard it. "Are you saying the mentor had other matters to handle outside? The samples weren't at..."

His rebuttal suddenly stopped; he too realized there was a major problem here. Indeed, the destination of a portion of the black liquid usage was unknown to him.

That made sense of why Kraft was asking this question now.

Scattered pieces of information were strung together by a thread with a clear beginning and end.

"Your suspicion is completely unreasonable; what reason would the mentor have to do this?" Lu Xiusi immediately denied it, even though this hypothesis fit his initial reasoning linking it to the black liquid.

Professor Kalman was the mentor who had taught him for many years, his guide in medicine; calling him half a father was not an exaggeration. Whether based on personal affection or recognition of his moral character, Lu Xiusi could not accept linking the two.

"So you also feel this possibility exists, right?" Kraft stared at Lu Xiusi, their gazes meeting through two layers of lenses. "Think carefully again; consider both supporting evidence and evidence against it."

Kraft himself was startled by this outrageous hypothesis.

Although their time together was short, Professor Kalman's image in his mind remained very positive: a man devoted to academia, wanting to develop medicine to cure diseases and save lives.

Even knowing that Kalman had taken a portion of the samples alone, Kraft had not linked it to this direction; at most, he thought there were technical details Kalman wished to keep secret.

Coupled with the strict control over the black liquid, with every use recorded, he had produced the illusion of total control, preferring to believe it was an unprecedented special epidemic. He never imagined that the repeatedly refined regulations lost their meaning the moment they failed to account for the portion the professor took away.

The idea that "the professor used the black liquid to poison" was simply too absurd.

Until now, standing before this water source that was almost certainly the culprit, having just experienced an attack that was both real and illusory minutes ago.

That incomprehensible, bizarre aura was spreading around him, becoming increasingly intense and clearer once its existence was perceived.

He could feel it, but this time, it was no longer confined within a glass bottle.

It drifted freely in the vast space, lodged within the deep well, dissolved in every bucket of water drawn up, and filled the boundless expanse.

This range was so vast that it resembled an invisible lake suspended upside down in the air; everyone who drank the well water was affected by it and fell into it.

Kraft recalled his notes: the black liquid was indeed a medium; after drinking the diluted solution, falling asleep should have been merely an external manifestation.

The true significance lay in allowing people to contact another dimension during this process.

And since normal people could not accept or retain information alien to this world, upon waking they would only show no memory whatsoever of everything from their dreams.

But with such a small amount of liquid, there must be another mechanism to produce a continuous, obvious effect on so many people simultaneously; a mechanism resembling positive feedback existed, causing its influence to constantly amplify.

Range, number of people.

A "Domain," identical to the black Shi Zhu and capable of affecting all who met the conditions in its surroundings, had appeared.

Within a certain range, once the number of drinkers reached a specific threshold, the degree of influence would deepen and the range would expand; the expanded range could then affect more people, wrapping more contacts within it to deepen the influence further.

After affecting all contacts nearby, this "Domain" could now extend beyond the Salt Tide Zone and probe into the home of Brad on Elm Street next door.

Like an invisible, formless lake, it submerged those within it, yet they felt nothing, knowing only that their sleep duration kept lengthening.

And that evil, insidious thing, disguising itself with softness, swam through it like a fish, its intentions unknown to anyone.