"No, I've just done my homework."

Dean Lawrence said as he opened a sealed box, inside were nail swords, neatly arranged nail swords.

"The identity of a Cardinal can bring me many conveniences, you must know that in Florence, as long as you have enough money, the priests can represent God to absolve your sins."

"Sounds really ironic."

The sharp, cold light lit up the plague doctor's mask, and he looked again at those supplies, presumably all accumulated by Dean Lawrence over a long period... It seems that his betrayal on the Night of the Holy Arrival was premeditated, not just a spur-of-the-moment decision.

"But indeed it is so."

He said.

"Back in the Evangelical Church, although the Secret Blood technology was mature, we still did not give up exploring the technology, with the sponsorship of the Medici Clan, many researches that could not be made public were carried out secretly."

At that time, the Evangelical Church still had a significant influence in the Western world, and through long development, the Church and the family continuously merged, until finally, they were indistinguishable from each other. If you carefully examine those noble families, you will find several bishops and even popes came from them.

"Those civilians would pay huge sums of money to have their families buried in the church's cemetery, not knowing that those bodies would be exhumed and put into new research."

"According to the doctrine, dissecting the dead is a blasphemous act, but beneath the holy church, they were corpses completely dismembered."

Dean Lawrence closed the box, pressed the switch, and the dim light illuminated the remaining parts in the darkness.

"Faith is truly an efficient money-making machine, but now I am no longer a Cardinal, these assets will be used up bit by bit."

To display devotion to God, many great families are willing to pay high prices to earn the Pope's smile.

Looking at those supplies, the plague doctor couldn't help but be dumbfounded.

"So if necessary, do we need to rob a bank or something?"

"No need, plague doctor."

Dean Lawrence opened the downward door.

"Someone will always want to sponsor our great cause, moreover, just the two of us is not enough manpower."

Even though Dean Lawrence and the plague doctor are so strong, their numbers are still too few, with no backup supplies, no logistics line to aid them, like two fugitives wanted, slaughtering one moment and hiding the next, until dying in some deserted alley.

"Is there a newcomer joining?"

A hint of cheerful sound came from beneath the mask, the plague doctor was somewhat curious what kind of monster would join this death ship.

"Probably, I have already connected with those exiled people, I provide them with the power to counter firearms, they work for me, and conveniently experiment with the power of the newly made Secret Blood, it's quite suitable."

He casually revealed his conspiracy.

"Those exiled people?"

The plague doctor had heard of those southern exiled people, he just didn't expect Dean Lawrence would contact them.

"They are very controllable, not belonging to Ingwig, nor recognized by Gaulunaro, they are people caught between two worlds, living in pitiful gaps... just like demon hunters."

Not belonging to demons, yet distinct from humans.

"I have been plotting these... for a long time, long enough that sometimes when I recall myself, I can't help but marvel at how much time has passed."

Dean Lawrence ahead said softly, he was also someone driven by goals, sometimes to achieve a goal, he would even abandon the concept of being 'human', immersing completely in it.

"I spent a long time secretly preparing these, but... ultimately people are different, just like that so-called talent."

Dean Lawrence stopped, turned around and looked at the plague doctor, surprisingly he was a little envious.

"Perhaps I have a special talent in hunting demons, after all, I became a dean."

He said with a bit of a smile.

"But I still think you, plague doctor, are better, my talent is nothing compared to yours."

"My talent?"

The plague doctor regarded it as him just praising, but this sudden praise indeed made the plague doctor a bit unsure.

"Yes, your 'talent' in biology."

Dean Lawrence continued.

"At most, I could be considered a warrior, I can change a battle, a war, but I cannot change the world."

Looking down at the skin aged by time, his voice carried a hint of pessimism.

"How long can I fight? A century at most, but as my death approaches, all these will turn to nothing, but scholars like you are different."

"Although you are not quite like a normal scholar."

"Even if you die, your research will continue to spread, continuing to change this world."

Listening to the muffled roar faintly echoing in the cabin, Dean Lawrence poured out his thoughts.

"Just like the person who invented the steam engine, he has been dead long ago, but his research continues to change the world even today."

"Swords and armor replaced by machinery and steam, steamships far faster than sailing ships have expanded new seas, railways connect every city, shortening the distance of the world beneath human feet."

"If the world were a precise machine, then he pressed the acceleration button for the world... I can truly feel these, plague doctor."

In the murky gaze, full of reminiscence of the past, Dean Lawrence had lived too long, long enough that when he was young, the Western world was still under the control of the Evangelical Church, at that time the steam engine was just a figment on paper, and what decided everything was still the sword in the knight's hand.

He was a ghost from a century ago, his life spanned two eras, sometimes he would close his eyes to dream back to the era when knights ruled, but upon opening his eyes, the gloomy sky hovered with mechanical monsters.

Remembering that dead era, welcoming this newborn era.

Listening to Dean Lawrence's undisguised praise, the plague doctor was somewhat dumbfounded, he suddenly felt a strange sense of sadness in Dean Lawrence, a sadness towards life, he had lived too long, wielding his sword with all his might, yet hadn't left his mark in the torrent of that era.

"Living too long isn't necessarily a good thing, right?"

The plague doctor asked.

"More or less, if there really is a god, death would be its greatest gift."

Dean Lawrence said solemnly.

"Of course now is not the time to accept this gift yet, if possible, I would want to live longer, at least until I fulfill my ideals."

As they descended, a door blocked their path, the plague doctor could clearly see the shallow frost on the door, as if it sealed the winter behind.

"Alright, the reminiscing ends here."

Dean Lawrence turned around, his eyes full of trust.

"Plague doctor, it's time to show your talent."

As he spoke, he pushed open the door, that isolated iron door was not very big, yet seemed as heavy as a thousand pounds, Dean Lawrence pushed very slowly, until the chill hit face on.

"I truly have no talent for this biological research, even after so long, it's just marking time."

Dean Lawrence demonstrated to the plague doctor the true wealth, the real assets.

"Now it belongs to you."

The plague doctor's voice trembled slightly, he certainly knew what these things before his eyes were, just didn't expect them to be this mature.

Someone shared the same belief as him, had already achieved this, now it was only up to the plague doctor to truly advance it.

"This... is also one of your preparations?"

He looked at Dean Lawrence, this somewhat familiar figure for the first time turned a bit enigmatic.

The plague doctor was both excited and cautious.

"No."

Dean Lawrence denied.

"This was once the Demon Hunting Order's 'preparation'."

"Its legacy."

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