Chapter 603: The Strange Patient

In the deep night, amid another round of cheers for magic, Lu Mi drank the sugar wine in his hand and left the bar with a smile.

He could already imagine what Aurora would say if she were here:

"You're so boring—using the authority and power of the 'Sea Viceroy' to perform 'magic' tricks, fooling drunks into thinking real things are illusions—is that your idea of a prank? You're having a great time, aren't you?"

Lu Mi answered silently:

"Isn't it exactly what you'd hope for—to use transcendental power, the authority of the 'Sea Viceroy,' for such things instead of battle?"

"Isn't this the joy and future you long for?"

Along the corridor lit by rows of kerosene wall lamps, Lu Mi stepped on the creaking floorboards, returning one slow step at a time to the first-class suite in the silent, empty environment.

From both sides, snores and moans occasionally pierced through the walls; near the stairs, a door stood open, casting a dim yellow glow.

As Lu Mi passed by, he glanced over and saw carved into the wall at the room's depths a Life Holy Symbol of the Earth Mother—a simplified infant figure nestled among symbols of wheat, flowers, and spring water.

Before the Life Holy Symbol stood a man in a brown clerical robe, under thirty, with clean, youthful features, faint traces of brown beard, holding a thick scripture, preaching to men and women seated at various spots in the room.

Lu Mi knew this was a "prayer room"—a small, mobile chapel with dedicated clergy; common in nations that worship only one deity, where even ocean voyages and steam trains accommodated believers' needs for quiet prayer and listening to doctrine.

Having nearly mastered Highland speech, Lu Mi memorized phrases like "Life is precious, harvest is joyful," then withdrew his gaze, entered the corridor, and climbed the stairs step by step.

Meanwhile, Lu Jianuo, having just finished tending to Ludwig's supper, heard a knocking sound—knock, knock, knock.

"Who is it?" Lu Jianuo asked, surprised yet slightly hopeful.

It couldn't be the employer—he had a key and would simply open the door himself.

It was nearly eleven at night—who would visit someone at such an hour?

Could it be that one of the ladies on deck heard my boasts and believed them, coming to share a wonderful night with me?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he heard a weak male voice:

"I'm here to see Doctor Lu Jianuo."

A doctor… Lu Jianuo couldn't help frowning, but he opened the door anyway.

Outside stood a man wrapped in a thick wool coat, a stark contrast to Lu Jianuo's linen shirt and thin trousers.

Lu Jianuo sized up the visitor:

"I'm Lu Jianuo. What do you want?"

The man's face was pale, his eyes shadowed, his brown irises holding barely a flicker of life—he was young, barely in his twenties, yet utterly lifeless.

The man took a breath and spoke with extreme weakness:

"You can call me Enio. I heard you helped several people on deck identify their true illnesses and improved their conditions quickly—I've come to ask you to treat me."

"I can pay for the consultation."

Seeing the man's condition—on the verge of death—Lu Jianuo sighed:

"Come in. Be quiet. You know I'm the private physician to a notable figure—he dislikes strangers disturbing him."

Once Enio sat on the sofa, Lu Jianuo habitually asked about his symptoms to mask the coming occult diagnosis:

"What's wrong with your body?"

Enio paused several seconds before answering:

"For the past half-month, I've become sensitive to cold, weak, lost my appetite, and suffered repeated runny nose and coughing—each day worse than the last."

"Hmm…" Lu Jianuo nodded, raising his right hand to lightly tap his forehead, as if pondering the patient's account.

In truth, he was activating his "Spirit Sight," preparing to directly observe the illness by the color, brightness, and thickness of the etheric body.

At just one glance, Lu Jianuo nearly leapt out of his skin:

Is this patient still alive?

In Lu Jianuo's vision, the white aura surrounding Enio's entire etheric body—representing overall balance—had turned gray-black, a sign of severe illness nearing death.

But that wasn't what shocked him most. What terrified him was:

The orange aura representing the organs of excretion and detoxification had turned completely deep black, utterly devoid of brightness—indicating those parts had long lost function and no longer worked at all!

Similarly, the yellow aura of the digestive system, the green of the heart and regulatory system, the blue of the throat and parts of the nervous system—all had turned dark and lifeless.

The only remaining colors on Enio were red at his hands and feet, and purple on the surface of his head.

What did this "diagnosis" mean?

It meant Enio was a man whose heart no longer beat, whose intestines no longer peristalsed, whose internal organs had all ceased functioning—yet who could still think, move, and speak.

"Son of a bitch, what kind of monster is this?!" Lu Jianuo cursed inwardly, trembling slightly—he'd never encountered such a "patient."

He feared the man might suddenly say:

"Doctor, I'm cold—lend me your skin to wrap myself in. Doctor, I'm hungry—lend me your stomach and intestines…"

Seeing Lu Jianuo's silence, Enio asked anxiously:

"Doctor, what illness do I have?"

Illness? Lu Jianuo screamed silently to himself:

Get a grip—someone with a stopped heart and no blood flow will feel cold!

Someone whose intestines don't move won't have any appetite!

In a flash of thought, Lu Jianuo "pondered" and said:

"Your condition is severe. I need further analysis and observation before I can conclude. Can you come back tomorrow morning?"

"Of course, before that, I need to draw some of your blood for study."

"No problem," Enio replied, though he had little faith in Lu Jianuo—he still held to the mindset that trying was better than doing nothing, and extended his right hand.

Lu Jianuo, whose tools were fairly complete, drew a small amount of blood from Enio using a needle, rubber tubing, and a glass vial—finding it dark in color but still possessing basic vitality; then he listened to his heartbeat, hearing a faint thump-thump, weak yet real.

Strange… Using the stethoscope and medicine preparation as cover, Lu Jianuo quietly let a faint glow shimmer across his palm and gave Enio a brief healing.

Enio immediately seemed more alert, his strength slightly restored.

"Thank you, Doctor—your massage and medicine worked! Thank you so much!" Enio left the suite with a joyful expression.

He'd seen so many doctors before, none of whom had improved him even a fraction—he'd planned to sail south, then take a steam train to the Earth Mother Church's headquarters for treatment.

Still bewildered, Lu Jianuo watched Enio depart, then waited until the employer returned.

He quickly told Lu Mi what had just happened, ending with:

"I've got his blood. Can you have someone divinate the true situation?"

"Divination?" Lu Mi chuckled, took the small vial of blood, and knocked on Ludwig's nursery door.

"Take a sip—see what knowledge you gain?" Lu Mi, ever ready to exploit every opportunity, handed the vial to Ludwig.

Ludwig's expression didn't change—he drank the liquid in the vial like it was his bedtime milk.

Lu Jianuo stared, utterly baffled, his eyes filled with shock and confusion.

After tasting the blood for a moment, Ludwig spoke slowly and evenly:

"Missing stomach, missing small and large intestines, missing lungs, missing liver and pancreas…"

"Equivalent to a corpse—alive only through occult power…"

"Will die completely within a week…"

This… Lu Jianuo was stunned not only that Ludwig drank human blood and spoke these judgments with solemn seriousness, but also that Enio truly lacked those organs.

He'd assumed they'd merely lost function.

According to Ludwig, wasn't Enio just a corpse?

What had happened to him?

"What do we do?" Lu Jianuo looked to Lu Mi.

Lu Mi laughed:

"What can we do? Go to the captain, the ship's security chief, or the priest in the prayer room—report it. They'll handle it."

Lu Jianuo nodded, then hesitated:

"But won't that expose me as a transcendentalist?"

"Just tell them you're Louis Berry's servant," Lu Mi said calmly.

"Alright." Lu Jianuo didn't mind being called a servant; after a pause, he asked, "Did you hear any strange sounds tonight? I sometimes hear a baby crying."

"A baby?" Lu Mi asked, shaking his head. "I didn't hear anything."

Lu Jianuo muttered to himself:

"Is the crying coming from this deck?"

He turned to Lu Mi:

"Should I go find the captain now?"

Lu Mi's eyes flickered slightly, and he smiled:

"Tomorrow morning."

"Alright," Lu Jianuo agreed without hesitation.

He wanted to wait for daylight, for the sun to rise—reporting such a strange matter in the dark always made him feel something might go wrong.

The sun gave him a sense of safety!

Lu Mi asked no further questions or gave no more instructions—he entered his room, washed up, and got into bed.

But he didn't sleep. Instead, he half-closed his eyes, waiting for something.

After an unknown length of time, Lu Mi heard a faint creak.

A door had been quietly opened.

Lu Mi instantly rolled up, silent and swift, to the door, gently pushing open the already slightly ajar door a crack.

He saw a figure slowly emerging from in front of Lu Jianuo's servant room.

It was Lu Jianuo, wearing his linen shirt, eyes wide open but utterly vacant, unfocused, his face expressionless.

Lu Jianuo walked toward the suite's door like a sleepwalker.

(End of Chapter)