Chapter 47

“No, I don’t believe this is possible.” Lu Xiusi stepped back, averting his gaze. “My mentor is one of the best physicians I know—in both skill and character. This is not something he would do.”

This isn’t a matter of logic. For Lu Xiusi, it’s far easier to reject a potentially complex truth than to admit it without direct evidence—he will stand firmly on the side of opposition.

“Even if he seems clearly abnormal?”

“Maybe the black liquid was stolen after he took it away. Our assumption that it caused the problem is just speculation, isn’t it?” Fortunately, Kraft held a high enough status in his mind—and was still the head of the medical academy—for Lu Xiusi to even entertain this conversation.

If anyone else had openly accused the professor of poisoning in front of Lu Xiusi—even if they were armed—he would have punched them twice.

“Someone steals a tiny amount of an unknown liquid and carries it to the most neglected part of this city, dumping it into water to cause mass poisoning?” Kraft crossed his arms, trying to appear less confrontational. “Which of these two explanations seems more likely?”

Emotionally, he didn’t want it to be true either—but for now, the professor’s suspicion was unquestionably the strongest.

As one of only three people in Hegang who knew of the black liquid’s existence, combined with his extremely unusual behavior, one could hardly resist rushing straight to Dunling to confront him face-to-face.

Yet this theory lacked one crucial element. If it truly was the professor, why would he do this? Without answering this question, he could never convince Lu Xiusi—or even fully convince himself.

Whoever did this, there must be a motive.

Even a madman acts with motive. Bringing the black liquid to the Salt Tide District and choosing a water source to poison—it was clearly a deliberate decision, not a rash impulse.

Kraft had reason to suspect the perpetrator anticipated this outcome, aware of the special effect produced when contacts gathered—and thus acted accordingly.

In the Salt Tide District, the population is relatively dense, water sources are scarce, and most importantly, no one oversees it. This maximized the positive feedback loop between scope and number of affected individuals.

With only a minuscule amount of black liquid, the perpetrator engineered a worsening condition across a vast area. The deliberation, the malice behind it—unimaginable.

“Now is not the time to debate this. We can ponder who did it later, when we have leisure. We must halt this trend.”

Speculating about the suspect now was useless. Kraft wanted nothing more than to contain this damned large-scale anomaly.

This anomaly “domain” was continuously worsening the condition of those within it—from the earliest cases of slightly delayed waking, it had now progressed to rising only after noon. What came next needed no guesswork: afternoon, evening, then night.

Eventually, everyone here would be dragged into eternal sleep, to join the wandering malevolent presence. Kraft didn’t know what it wanted—but it certainly wasn’t anything good.

“If it’s a water issue, what if we switch sources?” Since they’d found the origin, Lu Xiusi thought the solution wouldn’t be hard. “We tell them the water is poisoned. They’ll walk farther to fetch clean water. After a while, it should resolve.”

“Hmm… it’s a solution, though it would be extremely inconvenient. But I don’t think it’s that simple.” Kraft closed his eyes, sensing the strange aura permeating the air. He needed a different way to convey what he felt to Lu Xiusi.

“Lu Xiusi, do you really think the small amount of black liquid the professor took, dumped into the well water, could cause such prolonged deterioration in so many people? Isn’t that too much to believe?”

“So I’m not even certain the black liquid caused it. Why are you suddenly supporting the black liquid theory?” Lu Xiusi didn’t understand Kraft’s concern. If black liquid were simply a poison, stopping consumption of contaminated water should be effective.

Kraft voiced his thought: “I think we should get them to leave this area for a while—preferably scattered, ideally out of Hegang entirely.”

This suggestion was immediately criticized by Lu Xiusi. Having spent time with Li Si, he had come to deeply understand one truth: in the Salt Tide District, economic constraints made any major change unfeasible.

“They have nowhere to go and can’t leave their work. They’d die faster than if nothing changed.”

“Sigh…” Kraft picked up the bucket. His weekly sigh count rose again. Social and economic factors were truly annoying. “Fine. Let’s take the bucket back to the academy, find some animals to test on, and come back tomorrow morning to keep watch. Tell them it’s the water.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Before leaving, he pulled two silver coins from his wallet and dropped them into the cracked opening—enough for the family to repair their home. “Remind me to stop by Brad’s on the way back. Have him move somewhere else for a while. Try both solutions together.”

…

…

Kraft returned to the inn exhausted, even skipping his favorite grilled fish. He barely ate—just a few slices of bread for dinner. Back in his room, he lit a candle.

The day’s investigation had drained him physically and mentally. The thought of more work ahead—work that might still be useless—made the future feel bleak.

A massive, human-made anomaly “domain” had been created within Hegang—and he still hadn’t found the perpetrator’s motive.

The professor’s overwhelming suspicion troubled him deeply. A knowledgeable person with malicious intent could cause far greater destruction than an ordinary one.

He couldn’t continue discussing this with Lu Xiusi. He could only think alone: if it were the professor, what motive could drive such madness?

At Karman’s stage, one no longer desires worldly things. Common motives for evil—money, power—held no meaning for an elderly professor like him.

He was financially secure and effectively managed the entire Hegang Medical Academy, yet he had never shown any passion for either. His material life was no different from a student’s.

The only thing he cared about was academic advancement. Karman and Kraft were both driven to push medical progress forward in this hellish society. That was why they came to Hegang—and why Karman had stayed half a lifetime.

So what did Karman hope to gain from this act? Such a perfect location choice clearly indicated he understood the mechanism of this positive feedback “domain.”

Given the professor’s level, he surely wasn’t aiming merely to observe the known effect of prolonged sleepiness. So…

【There will be new changes】

Kraft realized it: the prolonged sleep was merely quantitative change. Karman was likely waiting for a qualitative shift—and had the patience to wait until he returned from Dunling to inspect the results.

Of course, this deduction assumed the perpetrator was indeed the professor.

He took off his black robe and threw himself onto the bed, pressing his temples. His entire head throbbed.

This headache flared frequently under excessive fatigue and stress—from temple to eye, even to the jawbone. Half his face was pulled into the pain. His former body from the other world, and this world’s body, had both suffered this same affliction.

He closed his eyes, stopped thinking, and let his mind go blank. By his own diagnosis, it was trigeminal neuralgia—a nuisance of a condition, complex in mechanism, recurring relentlessly, relieved only by rest.

Given his current mental strain and overwhelming workload, such headaches were inevitable.

In the darkness, hours passed. The pain gradually faded. In this rare moment of relief, his spirit drifted, and sleep crept in.

Just before falling asleep, Kraft stopped himself. It was still early; he had to do something before sleeping—at least finish the lesson plan for "Human Anatomy" to give to Liston for tomorrow’s class, otherwise the missed lesson would eventually have to be made up by him.

The looming pressure of doubled work forced his eyes open, dragging him back into the headache-inducing reality.

It felt like he’d only lain down for a moment—but the candle on the table had burned out. The room was dark. A sliver of moonlight slipped through the window crack, pale and soft.

Residual pain remained, contracted from half his skull to three points. Each pulse of his blood made his eyeballs feel crushed. The left temple throbbed as if someone were tapping inward from the bone junction with a small hammer, synchronized with the ache in his molars.

Consciousness grew foggy in the prolonged torment. The dim room revealed no clear furnishings.

Kraft sat on the edge of the bed, fished a flat black block from his pocket, and pressed the side protrusion. Light blazed suddenly, blinding him—he could barely open his eyes.

He turned the glowing surface toward the surroundings, barely illuminating two steps ahead. Standing up, it lit only his feet—useless.

His mind felt sluggish, as if still half-asleep. In darkness, he shuffled a few steps. His eyes hadn’t adjusted from light to dark; shapes were blurred.

He lost patience. Gripping the object, he walked toward the window, intending to open it and let the moonlight in.

His hand followed habit, pressing against the wooden frame, searching for the latch. Three times he felt nothing.

The hard texture in his other hand reminded him—he still had another light source. He pressed the protrusion again. White light flared before him.

Kraft stared at the square, white glow. It shouldn’t be this simple. He carefully slid his finger across its surface, waiting for feedback—even forgot he meant to open the window.

The white light gave no response.

Frustration mounted. Instinct told him something was wrong. This object must provide information—his life couldn’t function without it.

The alien part of his soul spiraled into inexplicable agitation, while the native part began deploying reason. He felt a strange dissonance.

Like gazing at a sunrise, only to notice a stubborn black spot in the view—like a fly on a painting, clinging and moving across the surface. Once noticed, you realized the entire scene was merely a flat plane.

【A lifelike painting】

More attention shifted to the flat black block emitting white light. It seemed plausible—but offered no further functional details, creating the sense of dissonance.

Kraft froze in shock.