Mediumship

A black van drove into Old Williams ' Rose Garden.

Hope has fully recovered and no longer needs Elizabeth's support, but Elizabeth is still worried.

In just over ten days without maintenance, the Rose Garden has become almost completely abandoned. The destruction caused by the Great Night Hawk has greatly exacerbated the dilapidated state of the garden, and this damage has become even more pronounced over time.

Elizabeth looked at the fading tricolor Rose with a pang of heartache.

"I'm not good at this, I don't know how to grow Rose," Hope said. "It hasn't rained in Dunwich for a long time. I wanted to water these Rose during a free period, but I couldn't find the right tools."

"You don't need to worry about these," Elizabeth said. "They're just Rose."

Hope guessed that Elizabeth still felt sorry for the Rose, and that she said this because she thought Hope would be very busy.

A person trapped in a cult family shouldn't waste time focusing on Rose.

They found the piece of paper left by Number Four Hope, Hope took out the small glass bottle that Professor Rice had given him. Inside the bottle was the medium's candle provided by Elizabeth.

They had no source of fire; the only thing that could help them light candles was Old Williams ' gas stove, but fortunately, there was still enough gas.

Before this, Hope pointed to the paper and asked Dr. Elizabeth Dr. Morgan why she answered questions about archaeology.

"He did participate in an archaeological activity," Elizabeth said. "But he seemed to be just helping out, not leading. Interviews like this with Miskatonic University happen frequently; professors usually let the younger, more articulate people answer."

□ That's good---- Hope now understands why Dr. Morgan uses so much technical jargon. Since it's not an academic journal, using things that nobody understands makes him seem more professional. Hope suspects that those terms are just things he's heard others use, and he himself may not even understand them.

Compared to the report on Dr. Morgan, it was the content on the back of the paper that caught Elizabeth's attention.

It was the obituary for the 22-year-old woman who had passed away.

"It's Tina Green, she should have been elected student council president by now if she hadn't been sick," Elizabeth said.

It was someone Elizabeth knew— Hope, learning from the people of this world—who spoke in the tone of someone who had recently passed away, "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Senior Tina is still alive. The Green Family later urgently issued a notice in another newspaper saying that the obituary was just a mistake by family members, and that Senior Tina was only in a coma, not dead."

"That sounds like good news," Hope said.

"Unfortunately, Tina had to take a leave of absence to recover from illness," Elizabeth replied.

Hope lit the gas stove, intending to crumple the paper and candle together, but Elizabeth stopped him.

"You can't light it like that," she said. "Don't you know candles have wicks?"

Hope looked at her awkwardly. He knew, of course, that there was a wick in the candle, but he hadn't expected it.

Elizabeth looked at the paper; the paper used to print the newspaper was special, of poor quality and rough.

She carefully crumpled the paper a few times to make it more fragile and soft, trying her best not to damage what Number Four Hope had written. She did this several times until she finally nodded in satisfaction, rolled the paper strip up along the long side, melted some of the wax with her body heat, and stuck it to the outside of the paper roll.

She placed the shaped candle into Hope's hand.

For a candle to have an excessively large wick and too little wax is not convincing.

But Hope let it pass through the gas stove flame, and a fairly stable fire started burning.

It emits a strange fragrance.

Elizabeth took a few steps back, deliberately moving a little further away.

As the fragrance wafted in, Hope felt drowsy and quickly entered a semi-conscious state. His perception of his surroundings, or what Professor Armitage called Self-Sense, "Further decreased, but his mind remained clear."

As everything around him blurred, a cacophony of sounds suddenly appeared in Hope's mind.

He was no stranger to this kind of sound; he had experienced it once before when he was Communication with Skull No. 1.

Unlike the previous conversation he could control, the voices he heard this time were disorganized and chaotic.

Although hearing the voice of the soul directly meant there was no language barrier preventing comprehension, the noise made it difficult to discern what Hope was looking for.

----Grapes ----Beer ----Voices ----

Hope struggled to discern the meaning, and finally managed to find some of what she was looking for amidst the chaotic ramblings.

----To My Next Partner---- According to Number Three's prediction, our transition period is three months, but anyway, my departure is today.----I never want to eat peas again.----

My train of thought was interrupted by some resentment towards canned peas.

Three months----

Hope swallowed hard; the time it took was neither too long nor too short, but enough to make him worry.

This deduction, based on Number Three Hope, may not be entirely accurate.

The sentence that Number Four Hope said afterward seemed to suggest that she had deduced a more accurate time—would there be a premonition before the soul's exchange?

The wait was so long that Hope began to worry about how long the candle would burn, but Number Four Hope finally had some useful information again.

----Beware of your predecessors---- Of course, I'm not wary of me, but Number Three suspects Number Two isn't dead yet, and I suspect Number Three isn't dead yet----

The taste of vodka is----

My thoughts were interrupted again, this time by a longing for alcohol; Hope, Number Four Hope, seemed to be a heavy drinker.

Hope realized Wilbur definitely wouldn't offer her any drinks; she must be going stir-crazy after three months.

Number Four Hope continued to praise the vodka at length. Hope's candles were already halfway lit, but he believed that what Number Four Hope wanted to convey was not yet over.

----I don't know what you're thinking, but if you want to stop the the Whateley family, a very simple way is: let that thing eat you—you should know what that thing is—it's that transparent guy who lives next door—----

Hope was stunned.

Her thoughts became chaotic again, Number Four Hope, clearly had nothing more to say.

Because she stopped writing anything on the paper, the connection between the medium candle and her through the paper began to break, and the voices Hope heard gradually became indistinguishable.

----Dad's Cabinet----Corn Wine Under the Grapevines----Goodbye, Whateley ----Tina Green----Wine, Wine----

The medium's candle went out.

Tina Green—why did she think of that name—perhaps because she had just read her obituary—

Elizabeth returned only after the candles had gone out.

She asked if the candles were enough for Hope to learn all the information on the note.

"Of course it's enough," Hope replied.

She then asked Hope why she looked unhappy.

"That's my privacy," Hope replied.