Goblin Heavy Dependence

Chapter 482 Secret Realm 3
Mande has seemed a bit distracted lately.

He used to take his little March out for a walk every evening after dinner. Occasionally, they would run into Mr. William, the sheriff who lived next door, who was also out for a walk. They would even make plans to go fishing together on weekends.

But as his conversations with old Mark deepened, Mande stopped liking to go out. Whenever he came home, he would lock himself in his study, sometimes even forgetting to feed the dog for the month, only remembering when it started whimpering and scratching at the door.

The bookshelves are a mess; books that were once meticulously categorized are now haphazardly piled on the floor and desk. The lily of the valley potted plant by the window has yellowed leaves, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen sink are faintly smelling bad…

Even a few days ago, when he was prescribing medicine for an elderly woman with a fever and cold, he accidentally wrote the wrong prescription and only realized it after the caregiver reminded him.

As for himself, perhaps because he studied Mark's medical records too deeply, he also developed similar symptoms, occasionally hearing strange noises, noticing strange shadows at the edge of his vision, and always waking up at three in the morning.

At first, Mand was a little worried, but after he learned a mental health self-test method from his mentor and found that he was mentally healthy and had no problems, he stopped worrying and just assumed it was due to overwork.

After all, it was all worth it.

As Mark's condition worsened, Mand became increasingly convinced that he had discovered a complex mental illness that had never been seen before in the medical field.

He even wrote a letter to his mentor at the Royal Medical College, hoping to get his help, but he felt a little regretful after sending it.

Today marks the ninety-fifth day that Old Mark has been at the clinic.

This middle-aged man, who used to be active on the docks, battling the sea with his bare hands, now looks like a corpse that has just stepped out of a cold storage.

It was as if all vitality had been drained from the body; muscles atrophied, and skin was pale and bloodless.

A pair of lifeless eyes bulged out from their deep sockets, as if they would pop out at the slightest sneeze. The hair on his body gradually fell out, and he exuded an indescribable gloomy and decaying aura.

Strangely, as his body aged rapidly, old Mark's spirit became increasingly active, displaying a bizarre excitement born of extreme exhaustion.

"Mr. Mande, what shall we talk about today?"

Old Mark sat relaxed on the soft leather sofa in the clinic, no longer the reserved man he was on his first visit, and asked with a smile.

The pen tip lightly touched the already filled medical record. Mandl pondered for a moment, then raised his head and looked directly into the other person's terrifying, dead eyes:
“You seem a bit too tired. Let’s talk about something light today.”

"I remember you mentioned a few days ago that your fishing boat was swept away by the waves during a storm?"

“Oh…” Old Mark’s smile remained unchanged, but a subtle change in his facial muscles gave his smile a strange piety often seen on the faces of church believers. “Of course, Mr. Mand.”

"The wind was strong that day, and the dark clouds completely blocked out the sun. The waves were like small hills."

"The net rope got caught under the keel of the fishing boat. I tried to cut it with a knife, but just then a wave came and swept me down."

At this point, old Mark paused for some reason, looked into Mand's focused eyes, and suddenly asked:
"Mr. Mande, do you know what it feels like to fall into the sea?"

"First of all, it was quiet. The howling wind and the noise of raindrops hitting the deck were kept out of reach of the sea."

"It's like something is covering your ears, and you can only hear the hum of the water flowing and your own heart pounding."

"I tried to swim upstream, but the current in the sea was too strong and kept pulling me deeper into the water. I could only watch as the faint lights of the fishing boats on the surface of the water got further and further away."

"The seabed is black, darker than the darkest night you've ever seen. There are no stars, no moon, no lights. I can't even describe the feeling of not being able to see the bottom. It's like you could fall straight to the other side of the world from there."

"It must be dangerous to fall into the water during a storm, right?" Mand asked, looking at the other's pale skin, which looked as if it had been submerged in water for a long time. "How did you manage to get out of there?"

“Mr. Mande, I don’t know.”

Old Mark slowly shook his head, his tired yet excited eyes slightly unfocused, as if recalling something, while the corners of his mouth subtly turned up wider.

"It was like someone blowing a conch shell from a very far place, and I heard a muffled, continuous, strange sound underwater, which made my whole body tremble."

"I followed the direction the sound came from, faced the seabed, and looked down..."

"Oh, please understand, I didn't have much schooling, so I don't know how to describe it."

"It was a mass, or rather, a huge pool of something more profound than darkness."

"I don't know what it is, but it's there slowly wriggling. It's so big that you can't see the edges, yet you can vaguely see its outline, as if it covers the entire seabed."

"It knows I'm watching it because it's watching me too."

"After that... I don't know."

When I woke up again, I was lying back on the deck of the fishing boat.

"I heard from other crew members that they saw my body floating on the sea after the storm ended. They thought I was dead, but they didn't expect that I was still alive."

Mande didn't pay much attention to the strange stories Old Mark told him.

After all, what sailor who has spent many years at sea hasn't seen a few strange things?
In contrast, he was more interested in the connection between Mark's experience and the subsequent mental health issues Mark had.

Was the almost hallucinatory experience that the old sailor had when he fell into the ocean the root cause of his later mental illness?
That day, Mande pondered this question until nightfall.

Until he checked the mailbox as usual, and then saw the clean white envelope with the familiar college seal.

His expression paused involuntarily.

The expression on his face, however, was different from the excitement and ecstasy he had shown more than three months ago; it had turned into a strange unease and worry.

He walked into the room with a worried expression, ignoring the scratching sound of claws scraping against the wooden door from outside the courtyard gate, and went straight back to his study.

He sat down at the messy wooden table piled with books and opened the envelope in his hand.

……

Dear Mande,
The discovery you mentioned in your previous letter, that involved a combination of numerous symptoms and was suspected to be a new type of mental illness, surprised me. In fact, I have recently been compiling some reports and have come across several similar cases, but they all come from different regions and countries, and the patients' identities are also different.

The only thing they had in common was that all the patients had been to or lived near the sea, and the vast majority of them had experienced falling into the water.

I suspect this is a form of mass mental disorder originating from the ocean; however, the specific cause requires further investigation.

Perfect timing! I'm going to a conference in Krall next week, and if circumstances allow, I'll make a detour through your area.

If what you say is true and not an exaggeration, then perhaps we can collaborate on a paper that would shake the entire academic world.

Looking forward to meeting you.

Your mentor

Adonis Pope
……

There is a lot of information to be gleaned from the letter, but for Mand, only a few things truly made him nervous.

1. The tutor must come in person;
2. The supervisor has access to a large number of similar case materials that the supervisor has never seen before;
3. The mentor hopes to collaborate with me.

Cooperation?

Mand stared at those two words for a long time.

What he was really thinking about was which of the records and analyses he had made over the past few days could be taken away by his mentor once he arrived.

The answer is all.

Old Mark was there, and until the mentor met him, everything that he could obtain, the mentor, a senior professor of psychiatry, could also obtain, even in greater detail and depth.

Given his mentor's reputation and connections in academia, he could easily turn all of this into a paper that he described as "enough to shake the entire academic world."

As for himself, this unknown intern doctor who treats farm women and blacksmiths in a remote fishing village, whether he can be listed as an author on a research paper depends entirely on the other party's mood.

"No!"

"I won't allow it!"

Having not had enough sleep for a long time, his bloodshot eyes looked even redder in the candlelight.

The letter from my tutor was torn to shreds.

Mande felt an overwhelming sense of gloom, as if darkness had descended, accompanied by a surge of resentment that rose from the depths of his heart.

He suddenly stood up, knocking over the wooden chair with cushions underneath him.

He had to finish the paper before his advisor arrived and submit it to a medical journal in a major city in the safest and fastest way possible.

No… considering the time it took for the envelope to arrive, the mentor will be in Fishhook Town in three days at the latest, which is simply too late!

"I must...I must..."

The flickering candlelight in the study was suddenly extinguished by the cold wind seeping into the room from outside. A faint, ethereal murmur echoed in my ears, and countless figures, more profound than darkness itself, writhed in the pitch-black landscape.

The door was slammed shut, and the hurried footsteps disappeared at the end of the street.

……

……

three days later.

Fishhook Town, main street.

Accompanied by the clatter of wheels rolling on marble bricks and the snorting of horses, a carriage bearing the emblem of the Physicians' Association on its exterior stopped outside a two-story building on the street.

The well-dressed coachman jumped down from the front, trotted to the side of the carriage, and opened the door.

The gleaming leather shoes slowly stepped out and gently touched the ground.

Adonis nodded to the coachman who opened the door for him, adjusted his collar slightly, and nodded his top hat.

Holding an exquisite cane in his right hand and carrying a small, portable suitcase with obvious signs of use, also engraved with the dark gold logo of the Physicians' Association stethoscope, in his left hand, he walked straight to the door.

"Tap, tap, tap."

His gaze swept over the weeds in the front yard on both sides, and he gently knocked on the door.

wait.

No one responded.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

I knocked three more times, but there was still no response.

Adonis frowned slightly, turned around, and went around to the window next to him.

Through the gap in the curtains inside the glass, you can clearly see the living room inside the house, which looks extremely messy.

Attention quietly focused, and the dark green, swirling pupils slightly dilated and contracted.

Thanks to the eyes of the Iron Peak Giant Eagle, which were transplanted many years ago, he could clearly see the fine dust covering the surface of the dining table.

Thoughts flashed through my mind.

Adonis returned to the door.

Carefully opening the suitcase in his left hand, he took out an exquisite pocket watch that refracted a faint light under the sun and gently pressed his fingertip against its surface.

hum-

Light flashed, and space distorted.

The next second, he had already grasped an extremely sharp, silver-white scalpel in his palm.

He put the pocket watch back into the briefcase.

Adonis approached the door with a scalpel in hand, his right hand gently brushing against the crack in the door, while his left hand simultaneously pushed the door inward with a little force.

Then there was a crisp "click" sound, and the door was opened from the outside.

He casually leaned his wooden cane against the door, carried a suitcase in one hand, and hid a scalpel in his sleeve with the other, as he slowly walked in.

As if he had been prepared, he was not surprised by the stench that filled the air.

Instead, they followed the scent to the outside of the study.

The door was unlocked, and he gently pushed it open and entered.

What comes into view are books and paper notes scattered on the ground.

Through the window, a thin, withered golden retriever lay motionless on the lawn in the inner yard; the potted plants by the bedside were completely dead.

The bookshelf was pushed aside, revealing a hidden door that was half-open.

Having also undergone modifications, his keen hearing allowed him to faintly hear strange noises coming from deep within the hidden door.

Adonis remained expressionless, lightly stepping over the debris on the ground and entering the hidden door.

Behind the hidden door was a long, dark passageway.

The air was as cold and damp as a morgue, and the wall lamps that should have been lit on both sides were all extinguished, leaving the passageway almost completely dark.

This posed no problem for Adonis, who possessed the eyes of an Iron-Peaked Giant Eagle.

At the same time, he also heard a very familiar, regular and repetitive friction sound.

That was the sound of a scalpel cutting through flesh.

Adonis's eyes flickered, but he didn't stop his steps and continued forward.

At the end of the passageway, a half-open wooden door let in light through the crack.

"Squeak..."

He pushed open the door with one hand.

What came into view was an operating room.

It looks very formal, with the iconic white and green tiles covering the floor, the walls painted pure white, and several metal instrument cabinets placed nearby.

A marble operating table was placed in the center of the room. Judging from its style, it was an old model that the association had abandoned many years ago, and it was most likely a black market item obtained from the underground market.

The body of a pale-skinned, muscle-atrophied adult man lies quietly on the operating table.

Beside him, with his back to Adonis, was a weary figure in a bloodstained doctor's uniform.

Of course he recognized his students.

“Mand”.

Adonis uttered his first words upon arriving in Fishhook Town.

His tone was calm, yet it made the busy figure beside the operating table pause abruptly.

He slowly turned around.

His eyes, filled with endless, frenzied desire, were dark and seemed like two empty holes.

"Right here..."

"I've found it, mentor..."

……

……

The flowing spacetime came to a standstill for a moment.

Xia Nan could even see the sharp silver light flashing from the scalpel in the palm of the physician's association professor named "Adonis," and the thick blood slowly dripping from the corner of the operating table in front of him.

But everything suddenly stopped at this moment.

The canyon walls rise up on both sides, and the surging air currents disperse the stench in the air, replacing it with a faint fishy smell from the ocean.

The white and green tiles were once again pierced by fish bones and coral, and cracks appeared on the surface of the marble operating table.

The familiar-looking corpse that had been lying on the table vanished along with two other figures in the room.

Only the leather briefcase bearing the Physicians' Association logo remained in Adonis's hand, now lying quietly on the sofa.

Xia Nan gently opened the suitcase with both hands.

What comes into view is an exquisite pocket watch that reflects a faint light, and an attribute panel that quietly appears in the void as you concentrate.

　None!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)