“Sometimes, I genuinely can’t discern which of your words are true and which are false…”
Dr. Callan, restraining her patience, refrained from bringing up the contract or pursuing the matter further.
It was indeed difficult to guess someone’s innermost thoughts.
She disliked interacting with others, often undertaking missions alone.
Within the hospital department, her talent and age marked her as a prodigy; her peers couldn’t even hope to catch up to her.
To her contemporaries, she was a superior among superiors, rendering the idea of friendship with her an absolute fantasy.
Thus, a lack of interaction with her peers likely contributed significantly to her preference for solitude.
“You still haven’t told me our destination,” the girl’s voice complained, “Even a sightseeing trip should have a proper itinerary.” The car had been driving for nearly an hour, and her backside had grown numb.
‘She should have chosen the back seat; it was spacious enough to shift and change positions freely.’
“The Blue Rose.”
Dr. Callan kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.
“It’s an intermediate train that passes through eight major cities and twenty-nine smaller towns. You can disembark at any city you prefer.”
“We’re almost there. Remember to keep your hat on, don’t speak throughout the journey, don’t look around, and follow closely behind me.”
“I’m not a child; there’s no need to nag about some things,” she said, casting a disgruntled glance at the woman.
‘They would likely face more than just one inspection ahead.’
“By the way, have you noticed the mist in the sky has grown thicker?”
It wasn’t overtly noticeable, but a portion of the sunlight that had previously pierced through was gradually diminishing, as if a thin layer of cloud had appeared to obscure it.
“Has it?” Dr. Callan slightly reduced her speed, glancing at the sky in the distance.
The sunlight was somewhat blinding, forcing her to raise a hand to shield her eyes.
“Doesn’t it look the same as before?”
The girl followed her gaze, arriving at the same conclusion.
“Strange… did I see it wrong?”
“I think you’re simply too excited for this journey, to the point of hallucinating.”
“Moreover…” Dr. Callan narrowed her eyes, murmuring in a voice only she could hear, “Even if it’s not an illusion, we must press onward.”
****
“Whoosh—”
Ten minutes later, having found a parking spot, Ghervil, who was queuing outside the waiting area, heard the whistling approach of the steel behemoth.
She lifted the brim of her hat to peer towards the railway line, but before she could get a clear view, a hand pressed down on her head, pushing it back.
“You’ll have plenty of time to look later. Stay close; if you get lost, I won’t be responsible for finding you.”
With so many people queuing, it was inevitable the woman would speak that way. Ghervil didn’t argue, silently following behind, step by careful step.
From behind, her hair reached just below her shoulder blades, and coupled with her shorter stature, the wide-brimmed sun hat effectively concealed her white hair from view.
As they made their way through the dense crowd, they didn’t attract much attention; rather, all eyes seemed drawn to Dr. Callan.
Most people were polite, offering a brief glance before looking away. However, a couple of impudent individuals continued to stare with brazen eyes, only to be met with Dr. Callan’s murderous, palpable glare. This sent shivers down their spines, nearly scaring them out of their wits, finally defusing the situation.
It was no wonder, for Dr. Callan captivated attention not only with her striking appearance but also with a small, lotus-shaped mark, resembling a tattoo, at the corner of her right eye.
Any ordinary person who saw it would naturally ponder the mark’s origin, and the conclusions they drew would vary depending on their own knowledge and experiences.
Ghervil found it rather amusing, and she poked Dr. Callan’s back.
“Why don’t *you* wear the hat?”
“Another word and I’ll dock your pay!”
A hand shot out, attempting to grab her, but the girl deftly evaded it.
“Stingy,” she muttered, pouting her lips, and took a step back to prevent another sudden attack.
Another five minutes passed before the two finally reached the ticket booth. The young male ticket inspector, having received their two tickets, meticulously examined the information printed on them. Satisfied that there were no discrepancies, he prepared to let them through.
During these times, anyone able to purchase a ticket had already been screened by the Epidemic Prevention Bureau. For minor officials like themselves, there was no need to waste time; merely verifying the tickets’ authenticity sufficed, as any problems that arose would not fall under their jurisdiction.
Indeed, several chatting police officers and men in black trench coats stood not far behind them.
Just as the gate began to open, a voice called out,
“Please wait a moment.”
A middle-aged man, clad in a black trench coat and a black silk hat, with a dark scar stretching from his lower eyelid to his nasal bridge, approached them. Behind him followed two similarly dressed companions, hatless, and bringing up the rear were four or five police officers.
“Miss, would you mind removing your hat for a moment so I may see your face?” The middle-aged man walked directly to Ghervil and bent slightly at the waist.
‘What should I do?’
‘Dr. Callan hadn’t mentioned such a situation would arise!’
It was perfectly normal for ordinary police and junior agents from the Epidemic Prevention Bureau not to recognize Dr. Callan. However, Ghervil—with her white hair and golden eyes, a nun from Solis Abbey who had distinguished herself during the plague—her reputation had already spread among these very people.
‘How could Dr. Callan possibly believe a mere hat could conceal her identity?’
“Please forgive my impoliteness; this is a necessary procedure.”
Seeing the girl remain motionless, the middle-aged man uttered these words and reached out to lift her hat. Behind him, the agents and police officers slowly moved to form a semi-circle around them, their hands subtly drifting towards their holsters. At the slightest command or indication of trouble, they would immediately draw their weapons.
“She is my assistant.” A voice made the middle-aged man’s hand pause at the brim of the hat.
He looked up at Dr. Callan.
“And you are?”
“Here is my identification.”
Without another word, Dr. Callan handed him a small booklet with a white cover.
Upon seeing the emblem on the white cover, the middle-aged man froze for a moment. Involuntarily, he abandoned his relaxed stance, snapped his feet together, straightened his back, and accepted the booklet.
He nervously flipped through its contents, cross-referencing the photo with the person before him using his peripheral vision. Noticing the mark at the corner of her right eye, he immediately returned the booklet with both hands.
“No issues whatsoever! You… you may proceed, and your assistant, this young lady, as well. My apologies for the delay.”
“Your observational skills and intuition are quite sharp; it seems the Epidemic Prevention Bureau isn’t entirely incompetent after all.” The woman tucked away her identification, then tugged at the sleeve of the girl beside her, who had been watching the scene unfold, motioning for her to follow.
“Tha… thank you…”
The middle-aged man stood rooted, offering an awkward reply, only letting out a breath of relief once the two had fully entered the platform.
“Captain… who were they?”
A young agent, nudged forward by his two companions behind him, leaned in to ask in a hushed tone.
“Ah… a big shot from the Benevolence Institute (TL Note: A prominent medical and humanitarian organization) was here, and headquarters didn’t even notify us…” Wiping a bead of cold sweat from his brow, the middle-aged man spoke with lingering trepidation, gazing in the direction the two had departed, while simultaneously answering his subordinate’s question.
“A big shot… how big?” Seeing that their captain wasn’t angry, the other two agents pressed closer with their questions, followed by several police officers who kept a meter or two behind.
“In our system, they’d be at least director-level.”
“But Captain, if they’re not from our system, why were you so afraid? You could have just let them pass. I’ve heard of the hospital department…”
“Of course I wasn’t afraid of her status!”
Finding a clean step, he sat down, his subordinates settling beside him. He cast another cautious glance towards the platform, then lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag before exhaling slowly. From within the swirling smoke, his face slowly emerged through the haze of smoke.
“I wonder if any of you have heard of an epidemic called ‘Crimson Lotus’ (TL Note: A severe, fictional disease mentioned in the narrative.)?”