506 Illness

Amidst the nighttime cacophony of the town’s barking dogs, Lumian let out a low chuckle.

“Do you have that many dogs in Dardel?”

“Y-yes.” The middle-aged man managed a hesitant smile.

Something is off as expected. Has something happened to this town? Lumian had intentionally inquired, keen on observing the reactions of the resident across from him.

Amidst the persisting dog chorus, he concentrated on gauging the other party’s luck.

He had no plans to leave the steam locomotive and venture into Dardel for investigation. His only recourse was to probe into the luck of the town’s residents, anticipating hidden problems before they could unexpectedly spread to the train station.

While Termiboros could influence his luck observation, there was always a chance of being misled. Lumian, lacking expertise in divination or prophecy, had limited options for gathering information without leaving the steam locomotive.

Factoring in various environmental details, he aimed to discern potential issues.

In Lumian’s view, the middle-aged man’s luck took on a ghastly green hue.

This indicated an impending illness—a rather peculiar one.

The specifics, such as when or what kind of illness, eluded Lumian’s current Sequence.

Dog barking inducing fear, future special illness—do Dardel’s wild dogs cause calamities by biting and spreading diseases? That’s a plausible explanation, and it’s not a Beyonder incident, but that means there’s a potential solution. The man outside seems to be grappling with a hint of despair… Lumian turned to the middle-aged man who was soliciting customers and said, “Can you bring over the food we ordered?”

“We can do so if the meal cost exceeds two verl d’or. You know, it’s not easy for us to enter the platform,” the middle-aged man, now smiling again, replied.

At that moment, the clamor of dozens of dogs subsided, no longer as intense as before.

“No problem,” Lumian casually ordered a variety of dishes—apple liqueur, deep-fried potato pancakes, shrimp in gravy, Dardel meat sauce, stewed pork, saltmarsh mutton, buttered pancakes, and wick cheese. The total cost amounted to 10 verl d’or.

Ludwig couldn’t help but gulp with each mention of a dish.

Four hours prior, an attendant had delivered a four-person standard dinner. Despite managing to finish two portions alone, Ludwig remained unsatisfied. He had also retrieved multiple pieces of jerky from Lumian’s Traveler’s Bag.

Two hours ago, he had his first supper, consisting of cheese, dessert, bread, jerky, and more.

Now, he was hungry again.

The middle-aged man, who had used simple words and symbols to record the dish names, couldn’t resist asking,

“Is the food provided in a carriage of this level not tasty?”

Otherwise, why would Ludwig look as though he hadn’t eaten dinner?

Lumian responded in turn, “That’s right. Don’t ever expect to eat tasty food on a steam locomotive.”

After noting down the dish names and receiving 5 verl d’or banknotes as a down payment, the middle-aged man with a slightly hooked chin moved to another private room.

“Wait,” Lumian suddenly called out.

“Is there anything else, Monsieur?” the middle-aged man turned around and inquired.

Lumian smiled and said, “You don’t look well. If you don’t want to get sick, you need more rest in the next few days.”

The middle-aged man froze, his expression struck by lightning.

After a momentary pause, panic and fear mixed on his face.

“A-alright. Thank you.” He turned around in a hurry and dashed out of the platform, forgetting to solicit other customers.

Dardel’s abnormality is indeed linked to illnesses… Lumian mused as he withdrew his gaze thoughtfully.

Lugano asked with curiosity, “Why can’t I tell that he’s sub-healthy and could fall ill at any moment?”

Being a Doctor, he possessed corresponding abilities. Even without activating his Spirit Vision, he could discern various external manifestations of a person’s body.

Recognizing a concealed illness and with Lumian’s warning, he activated his Spirit Vision to observe the person’s Ether Body.

“Sub-healthy” was a term coined by Emperor Roselle, but it had only gained popularity in Intis’s medical world in recent years.

He’s not currently in a sub-healthy state, but it’s very likely that he will contract a special illness… Lumian used Lugano’s questions to confirm that the townsfolk’s illness didn’t originate from him.

He smiled and responded to Lugano’s question, “It’s never wrong to care about others’ health and encourage them to rest more.”

Instinctively, Lugano revealed an expression that said, “I don’t buy it.” Then, he masked it with a smile.

“He seems to share that concern.”

“That’s right,” Lumian replied patronizingly.

Dardel’s barking subsided and resounded at times. Sometimes, it was just outside the platform, and at other times, it came from the edge of the town. Lumian listened quietly and sighed inwardly.

Why am I encountering something like this again?

Do I bring calamity, or does calamity lure me here?

From the looks of it, the problem in Dardel has been around for a while. It has nothing to do with my arrival… No matter how I avoid it or make choices via the use of others, I’ll always be drawn to calamities and unknowingly approach them…

Is this why a Hunter with an angelic level and the Blood Emperor’s remnant aura will inevitably encounter an abnormal situation despite their low Sequence?

In the future, will a novelist write about my experiences like Gehrman Sparrow’s? Then, the line “he’s always accompanied by calamity” would be included.

As time ticked by, the middle-aged man who had been soliciting customers arrived with a bar waiter, each carrying a food container.

“Is this what you want?” He and the waiter handed plates and glasses through the window.

Seeing the table covered in an exquisite tablecloth filled with tempting food, Lumian took a sip of the slightly sour apple liqueur and paid the remaining 5 verl d’or for the meal.

“We’ll collect the cutlery in an hour. We won’t be disturbing you, will we?” the middle-aged man asked politely.

Lumian nodded, giving them permission.

After sidestepping with the waiter for a moment, the middle-aged man found himself returning to his original position. He couldn’t resist the urge to inquire,

“Monsieur, how do you know I’m about to fall ill?”

Lumian, gesturing towards Lugano across the way, explained, “My friend is a renowned doctor in Trier.”

The term “renowned” here applied to a wanted poster.

Without awaiting the middle-aged man’s reply, Lumian casually inquired, “What’s your name?”

“Just call me Pierre,” the middle-aged man replied, hunched over as he observed Lumian in the snug private room on the steam locomotive.

Do you folks fancy that name around here too? Lumian grinned and asked, “Do you think you’ll get sick too?”

Pierre’s eyelids twitched, his expression momentarily freezing.

Instinctively, he replied, “No, no. Just a bit concerned.”

“Well then, get some rest, drink more water, and perhaps seek out the clergyman at the cathedral for repentance,” Lumian advised without pressing further.

Pierre moved towards the front of the locomotive in silence, hoping to drum up more business. However, his steps seemed burdened, as if his feet were encased in lead, each stride a struggle.

“Woof, woof, woof!”

The barking resumed near the platform.

Pierre’s face contorted, overwhelmed with worry and fear. Suddenly, he turned around, shaking off the waiter and rushing to the window of the small private room where Lumian and the others were situated.

“Save me, Doctor, save me!” he pleaded, pressing his hands against the glass with a desperate expression.

Lumian seized the moment, stating, “Unless you disclose the cause of the illness, my friend won’t be able to treat you.”

The commotion reached the passengers in the adjacent private rooms, but in their slumber, they were indifferent to the unfolding drama.

Pierre swallowed hard, stealing a glance at the equally terrified bar waiter.

“Yes, yes…”

Before he could complete his sentence, a figure materialized on the platform’s wall.

The figure stood firmly, legs apart, body contorted, but its head tilted upward, fixated on some distant point.

It was a man, clad in tweed garments, conspicuously marked by tears and frays. His facial muscles contorted dramatically, and his eyes were rolled back, leaving only a white patch visible.

Saliva dribbled from his open mouth as he attempted to speak.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

The barking harmonized with the other canine sounds in Dardel, forming a disconcerting chorus.

“It’s Derangement!” Pierre finally exclaimed.

“Derangement?” Lumian shifted his attention from the man barking on the wall to Lugano.

Lugano observed the abnormality for a moment before slowly shaking his head at Lumian.

His message was clear: this wasn’t your typical case of rabies.

Pierre, mistakenly thinking Lumian was addressing him, was on the brink of emotional collapse.

“Yes, Derangement!

“I don’t know when it started. People in our town began turning into barking lunatics. Initially, it was just one, but then two, three, ten… Many acquaintances of mine got infected, completely losing their minds. They only bark like dogs and are most active during the night!”

“Did they contract it from being bitten by these lunatics?” Lugano inquired with a furrowed brow.

“No, the ones I know weren’t bitten, but they still went mad! I-I feel like I’m soon next!” Pierre exclaimed in despair.

“You didn’t seek help from the government?” Lumian was puzzled, thinking that official Beyonders wouldn’t allow such a situation to escalate.

“We heard about a village having a similar situation as Derangement; they reported it to the government, and then the whole village vanished. We… we didn’t dare approach either the government or the Church!” Pierre explained frantically, with the bar waiter by his side equally terrified.

Lumian’s eyes narrowed.

“Where are the people from the town’s health department, police station, and the cathedral’s padre?”

“They were the first to succumb to madness.” Pierre, caught up in distress, didn’t consider Lumian’s intentions in asking.

The initial casualties were the padre, police, and health officials… Lumian raised an eyebrow and remarked, “So why haven’t you tried escaping from Dardel?”

“Escape…” Pierre and the bar waiter were startled, staring blankly at Lumian.

Beneath the crimson moonlight, the whites of their eyes took on a bloodshot hue.

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