Elliot's probing

Norman glanced at Vanessa, who sat across the desk with an unusually grave expression. After a moment's hesitation, he turned and locked the door with a click.

"Go on, what is it? If you're here to borrow money, forget it..."

"Doctor Norman! I saw a living Mad Rat Disease patient in the city!"

Norman froze. "What did you say?!"

"A walking corpse that attacks people! The corpse I sold Old Razi had been bitten by it!"

Norman almost jumped in shock, his voice rising sharply. "When did this happen?!"

"A few days ago! Near the Harbor District..."

"The Harbor District, the Harbor District..." Norman paced rapidly around the room, then abruptly stopped, his piercing gaze fixing on Vanessa. "Wait, a few days ago?"

"Yes! They only started calling me the Mad Caregiver after I fought that Mad Rat Disease patient!"

Norman's tense shoulders suddenly relaxed. He let out a long breath and sank heavily back into his chair.

"Then it looks like a false alarm." He waved a hand, his tone returning to its usual coolness. "The core of Mad Rat Disease awakens large numbers of corpses at once. If an outbreak had started in the Harbor District a few days ago, all of New Scandinavia would be in chaos by now. Besides, there haven't been any recent reports of rats going mad."

"The core?"

"Ahem!" Norman coughed as though he had choked, picking up his water glass to cover it. "I mean, this plague is characterized by concentrated outbreaks over a short period, infecting a wide area... In any case, there couldn't possibly be just one isolated case! You must have made a mistake."

Vanessa's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's impossible! The person I saw with my own eyes had symptoms that matched your description of Mad Rat Disease exactly!"

"Plenty of conditions can cause similar symptoms." Obvious impatience crossed Norman's face, and he waved a hand as though shooing away a fly. "Enough, Miss Vanessa. New Scandinavia is the jewel of the Empire. Even if there really were Mad Rat Disease here, His Majesty's Imperial Army could crush it like an ant! If you have time to worry about this, you'd be better off thinking about how to repay your debt!"

He picked up his pen and scrawled flamboyantly in the billing ledger. "I'll charge you a thousand leo for this debridement and suturing. I won't bother showing you the bill; I'll put it straight on your account. Hurry up and pay what you owe, do you hear?"

"But..." Vanessa still wanted to argue, but Elliot took direct control of her body and bowed her head to Norman in thanks. "I understand. Thank you for treating me, Mr. Norman."

With that, he turned and pushed the door open to leave.

Elliot now tried to avoid taking direct control during conversations. After all, he only had cards on his desk and could not precisely control the finer details of facial expressions, making it easy for others to notice something wrong.

Ever since he, too, had obtained [Spirit Vision], Elliot had put aside his casual approach to playing and begun to act cautiously.

There was no point arguing with Doctor Norman. He had very likely come into contact with the supernatural as well, and Elliot did not know which side he belonged to. Saying more might invite trouble.

After leaving the hospital, Elliot released his control and rose from his seat in front of the Difference Engine.

Turning and carefully skirting the bloodstains on the floor, he left the room, intending to have a chat with the old butler.

Vanessa lived at the bottom of society, and much crucial information lay beyond barriers she could not cross.

But even confined within this luxurious cage, he could still access certain deeply buried secrets of the Empire as the Sterling Family's heir.

And the situation with this game was not particularly clear either.

He had indeed obtained the attributes the girl gained through Sacrifice, but did the girl actually exist? Was he gaining attributes by playing a game, or was he truly controlling a person?

If the girl really existed, were they in the same world, or in some parallel world?

If Elliot could go outside, all of this would be easy to verify. But he was confined to the mansion, with an old butler who knew him extremely well at his side, making any attempt to probe the matter quite troublesome.

As he worked out his wording in his head, he found Conrad polishing silver in the mansion's sitting room.

"Young Master Elliot?" The old butler looked up in some surprise. Ever since becoming engrossed in the Difference Engine, the young master had voluntarily left the study only a handful of times.

"I've finished all those books on the Difference Engine."

"Would you like me to find you some more? Or order you a newer model of Difference Engine?" Conrad set down the silverware in his hands.

"Either is fine." Elliot nodded, then changed the subject, asking with apparent casualness, "I saw quite a few accounts of secret societies in the books... They're rather interesting."

"You mean..."

"The Hammer Brotherhood, the Troy Society, and the like. Do you have any materials on secret societies? Historical ones or those still in existence would both be fine."

As Elliot spoke, he discreetly surveyed his surroundings.

He had seen nothing light up anywhere along the way, nor had he seen anything on the old butler. Spirit Vision had shown him nothing unusual.

Was there simply nothing here, or... was it hidden behind the scenes?

To his disappointment, Elliot found that the girl actually had an easier time coming into contact with the supernatural than he did.

Conrad fell silent, a rare occurrence.

Something stirred in Elliot's heart. No matter how outrageous his requests had been in the past, the old butler had never hesitated so visibly.

Could it be... that the trouble surrounding these secret societies was thorny even for Conrad?

"What... aspect would you like to learn about?"

"I'm interested in all of it," Elliot answered immediately, looking entirely unguarded. "Take the Hammer Brotherhood, for example. They were clearly just a group of working-class laborers, yet they managed to build the Difference Engine. They must have had some skill... Speaking of which, I've also heard of the Mourning Poetry Society. Apparently, their culinary research was in a class of its own?"

Having said that, Elliot looked expectantly at the old butler.

Mentioning the Mourning Poetry Society was a choice he had carefully weighed. First, this secret society had not been classified as a cult, and information about it could even be found in the library, so it was probably not some hidden organization.

Second, given the original owner's penchant for trouble, taking an interest in such bizarre things would be perfectly normal and unlikely to arouse suspicion.

Conrad's brows drew together almost imperceptibly. "The Hammer Brotherhood was destroyed long ago. Records concerning it would likely be difficult to find. The Mourning Poetry Society, however, should pose no problem. Only..." He paused, a hint of scrutiny in his gaze. "Why have you suddenly taken an interest in this society?"

Elliot keenly caught an extremely faint trace of... tension in Conrad's tone?

What was going on? Was there something seriously wrong with the Mourning Poetry Society he had mentioned?

For some reason, Elliot had a vague intuition that the issue did not lie there.

But rather...

The Hammer Brotherhood?

Elliot was momentarily puzzled. He really had only mentioned the Hammer Brotherhood in passing. If he had not read about it in the history of the Difference Engine, he would never have known the organization existed.

Now, though, could there be more to it? Could this organization still exist?

Forget it. It didn't matter. He decided to pretend he had noticed nothing and cooperate with the old butler by shifting the focus of their conversation to the Mourning Poetry Society.

"I'm somewhat interested in this organization's philosophy. I vaguely remember someone mentioning it-a taste for raw flesh and blood isn't exactly common."