[{"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-70":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},2283548,4467,"Chapter 70: Return Visit","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-70",70,"\u003Cp>Gary remembered this man. Though masked, the young man’s calm, steady voice had been unforgettable, radiating a power that defied fear and made listeners instinctively believe him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A few days after he’d sought help from the Academy to no avail, this young doctor named Kraft had unexpectedly appeared himself in Salt Tide District—a place no sane person would ever visit—and gone door to door, claiming he would help them rebuild two wells to solve the sleepiness caused by toxic water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, if I remember correctly, your name is Gary, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bird-headed man held a rectangular wooden board, its top edge fitted with some makeshift clamp, likely taken from elsewhere, to hold the paper in place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He phrased it as a question, but his pen had already scribbled something on the paper—the question was merely routine; he’d already formed his judgment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, yes, that’s me. I didn’t expect you’d remember.” Gary shut the door behind him, blocking the cluttered interior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Salt Tide District had no custom of inviting visitors inside. Not out of rudeness or cultural norms, but simply because the shacks were too small to fit another person, let alone provide space to sit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you have a moment, I’d like to take a little of your time to ask a few questions—it might help us understand this strange illness.” Kraft dipped his pen into the ink bottle held by Lu Xiusi. “Nothing too personal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As always, his sincerity was undeniable. Gary found no reason to refuse a doctor who had come Wuchang  to solve their problems—and he had nothing to lose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, there were few truly selfless people in this world. Those who acted as saintly as a Church figure usually had some hidden agenda. But Gary saw nothing in himself worth scheming for—his work hours had dwindled for a full month, and no one here had even a single extra copper coin to squeeze out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Anything I know.” Gary nodded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With permission granted, Kraft began his survey using his prepared questions: “Has your waking time changed since you stopped drinking from that well?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first question stumped Gary. He hesitated for a long while before giving an uncertain answer: “It seems a bit earlier, but I’m not sure. Maybe no change—still at noon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pen marked a small cross on the paper, followed by a short horizontal line, divided by a slash—possible, or not, to be confirmed later. After all, there were no accurate timekeeping tools here; patients answered based on subjective feeling, making certainty impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the entire sheet, names and numbered entries were densely packed, and the first item for most was ambiguous, with only a few indicating certainty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sorry, I really… can’t be sure.” Gary twisted his hands. Failing to give a clear answer on the first question made him feel embarrassed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me your true feeling. There’s no right or wrong answer—not knowing is still an answer.” Kraft moved his pen to the next line. “Have you had dreams lately?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Any kind of dream—like dreaming you’re in a place similar to your home, or waking up with no memory of the dream at all.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This question felt like the prelude to some priest or mystic scammer asking for money. Gary shook his head blankly. He didn’t remember any dreams at all—only empty sleep: eyes closed, then waking when daylight flooded in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No. Not once.” As he said this, Gary felt a sudden chill, as if a demon had stolen his soul in the dead of night and returned it the next morning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he spoke, he felt the eyes behind the red lenses fixate on him with unusual intensity, as if a tangible gaze pinned him down, as if some invisible atmosphere had descended upon them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon receiving a negative answer, the tension vanished. The bird-headed man drew a small minus sign on the paper, and his tone betrayed a slight, perhaps unconscious, relaxation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s very good.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The beak lifted. Gary thought he was smiling, but he couldn’t fathom why “very good” applied to not dreaming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t worry. Sometimes dreams are omens of something. Nothing happening is better than experiencing inexplicable dreams, isn’t it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re right.” Gary didn’t understand this roundabout talk, but he nodded instinctively.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Have you felt any discomfort in your body lately? Pain, dizziness, coughing, diarrhea, anything like that?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Actually, yes. My foot pain has returned, and it’s worse.” Speaking of it, Gary still felt a pang of dread.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pain struck like bones being carved out—so severe he could barely move. But now he worked only half his usual hours; he couldn’t afford to stay home because of it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d wanted to ask about it himself, fearing it might be unrelated to the sleep sickness and annoy Kraft. But since the doctor brought it up, it was perfect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let me see your feet.” The request was redundant—Kraft had already noticed Gary wasn’t wearing shoes. Salt-encrusted black mud from the tidal flats had hardened into thick crusts on his calloused soles, obscuring the original skin color entirely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The joint between his big toe and foot looked slightly swollen. Due to the skin’s dark hue, he couldn’t tell if it was red or inflamed. He crouched and pressed his fingers against it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gary saw the delicate gloves made of some unknown leather and instinctively pulled his foot back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t move. I’ll press here—tell me if it hurts.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the first metatarsophalangeal joint. The moment Kraft pressed, Gary’s face twisted in obvious pain. Kraft released it and moved upward, pressing along the foot until the ankle also reacted with pain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Joint sand.” He said. It was the local name for gout in Wendeng Harbor—named because uric acid crystals formed into tophi, which, when inflamed and ruptured, expelled gritty, stone-like particles. “What have you eaten lately?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Common in port cities: diets heavy in seafood, combined with beer consumption, led to excessive purine intake. It was unnatural for uric acid levels not to rise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gary’s recollection was brief. After a moment’s thought, he answered: “Bread, some cheap fish, and shellfish my wife collected from the shore.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Eat less from the sea. Drink more clean water. Avoid beer. Try to change your staple food.” With no direct medicine available, dietary adjustment was the only way to manage it, even if only slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gary’s face showed no relief. He asked blankly: “Is there no other way?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not for now.” There was one—but not now. And I don’t have it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As was his habit, the fastidious Kraft wanted to immediately remove his gloves and toss them into the large yellow trash bin. But as he reached to do so, he realized this wasn’t a hospital—and these weren’t disposable rubber gloves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His right hand hung in midair, his left holding the clipboard and pen. He turned to Lu Xiusi: “Give me a small piece of linen, please.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After wiping the gloves, he tossed the linen into the nearby trash pile. Turning back to Gary, he was about to explain dietary control—then realized it made no sense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Wendeng Harbor, cheap fish and Suichukejian  shellfish were the most cost-effective sources of protein and fat for dock laborers. Finding alternatives—or relying solely on starch-heavy foods, even black bread—wasn’t realistic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Drink more water. I’ll come again. Tell me if anything else troubles you.” On the last blank space, he wrote the abbreviation for “joint sand,” then bid Gary farewell and headed with Lu Xiusi to the next shack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was awful. He hoped it would end soon. He knocked on another door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This grueling work didn’t end until evening, leaving a small stack of paper filled with tightly packed fragments of information.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two returned to Kraft’s new home to rest, changed out of their black robes and bird masks, and went to find a place for a proper meal to ease their exhaustion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As usual, each received a grilled fish, a vegetable stew, and decent white bread—Kraft’s self-approved reasonable dinner: nutritious, adequately portioned. He took a sip of soup and said: “We’ll check again in two days.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So soon? It probably won’t show much difference, like today.” Lu Xiusis nearly choked on his bread. He wasn’t Kraft, hardened by years of training. Even mostly walking all day left him drained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft pushed his soup bowl away, recalling the papers he’d organized. His appetite vanished. He’d need to turn them into color-coded maps, and fulfill more demands he’d placed on himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is an important experience, Lu Xiusi. I don’t mean walking through Salt Tide District all day—I mean documenting a large-scale case of a new substance causing illness.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The numbers after each name were the assigned codes for each shack. He tried mapping the collected data onto his mental map of the district. The distribution wasn’t uniform, but nothing obvious emerged yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We must collect information frequently, use it to trace the progression, record outcomes, find general patterns, and summarize responses—to prepare for future cases like this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Future?” Lu Xiusi caught the implication. “You think there’ll be many more such cases? Enough to warrant a whole new category?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why would you think this is ending soon?” The boss brought over Lu Xiusi’s grilled fish. Kraft paused. “Just do it this way for now. Better to have something than nothing. Should I pay you a salary?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Forget it. I think you’re right.” Lu Xiusi bit hard into the grilled fish. This was his third serving since being treated—he might eat back all his labor’s worth, paired with the vegetable stew.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He chewed loudly, only noticing halfway through that Kraft hadn’t touched his food. “Aren’t you hungry?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, just thinking about something.” Kraft leaned back, sighed. “Some things aren’t within my power to cure. No matter how skilled the medicine, it won’t help.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Which one?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not one. Many, big and small—essentially the same. I fully understand the obstacles can’t be removed by me alone, yet I still cling to unrealistic hopes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re sounding like those philosophy types from the Academy.” Lu Xiusi set down his fish bones. “If you’re not eating, you wouldn’t mind giving it to me, would you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Never mind. Eat.” Kraft took a bite of the grilled fish. Perfect flavor. The day began with a meal, and ended with one.\u003C\u002Fp>",1707,"2026-06-20T02:15:55.761Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","506cc62fe384319c501082bcefe167beb858e375b9cf6e7251180fccc6a102bf","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-71","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-69",406,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fnotes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-cover.jpg"]