Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 105 Believers
After Professor Russell left, Celen lay on the deck chair, closing his eyes to reminisce.

Russell is likely a sexually perverse subject. Obsessive-compulsive neurosis would not defend itself against analysis in that way. When he brought out the inconsistencies and hidden desires in the client's words, Russell chose to get angry and fight back, directly launching a personal attack.

This is a sexual perversion, or a sexual perversion with good subjectivity. He didn't come for consultation, but to show off his wisdom and manipulate authority.

This was the first time he had encountered a case like this, because people like this usually don't bring in analysts.

However, considering Russell's status as a biology professor, his inexplicable hostility seems understandable. After all, the debate about the origin of species has lasted for more than 30 years, and the Church has clearly taken a less than honorable position.

Unfortunately, he didn't say how he switched to biology, Xilun thought with some regret.

However, Russell's inexplicable provocation was only one issue; more importantly, it was his emotional state at the time.

—He actually got angry then.

Analysts must remain calm and rational during the analysis process, without sympathy, comfort, or advice.

Because the analyst's goal is to expose the patient's true desires and problems, rather than to provide a cure, their personal emotions must be discarded during the analysis.

Normally, he should record these reactions, such as "what problems made me angry" or "what he said made me emotional," and then tell his supervisor, asking him to help him analyze them.

Supervisors are often more experienced analysts who conduct a re-analysis of the analytical work.

Because analysts can also fall into transference, being induced, moved, seduced, angered, or identified with by patients, and starting to "want to help," "want to comfort," and "want to explain," the role of supervision is to help analysts see clearly that they have fallen into illusion.

Through this repeated practice, analysts hone their skills.

Unfortunately, there is no supervisor now, and he has to solve all his problems on his own. But Siren knows that he has already begun to transfer his affections.

He had played the role of bishop for too long, and he would offer advice and comfort to the faithful instead of calmly analyzing the situation, which, although forced by circumstances, undoubtedly affected him.

He began to want to save people, to guide others, and to put his ideas into practice in society.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with that; Lacan's son-in-law and heir, Miller, did the same thing when he was young.

But at that time he had Lacan himself as his supervisor, and if the movement failed, he could hide at his father-in-law's house.

But not Siren; his dual role as bishop and analyst had begun to interfere with his work.

When he first arrived, he reminded Mathilde not to do anything unnecessary, but now he himself has become the standard-bearer.

"Phew—" Xiren let out a long breath, "So if I keep going..."

Before he could even begin to struggle with the celestial being, the bell beside him suddenly rang, and he quickly ran over to answer it.

"Yes, that's right, this is Xilun. Is there any news?" he asked anxiously.

Logan's voice came from the other end: "Four of the five intelligence hideouts have been confirmed as true, and they have all been destroyed. Miss Tess is seriously injured and has been sent to the hospital along with several other wounded people. We have also found four bodies... We are a little late."

Xilun was silent for a moment: "I understand. You've worked hard. Did you get any information?"

“The arrested cult members have all been taken to the police station, and they are keeping the physical evidence. Arthur is now a member of the police station and will notify us as soon as there is any news,” Logan said. “However, from what I’ve seen, there are many refugees from Kalenburg among the cult members.”

"Is that so?" Xiren thought for a moment, but didn't jump to conclusions. "Then you should keep a close eye on the situation at the police station. If there's any more intelligence, you should personally lead a team to investigate... By the way, do you know Professor Russell?"

“Professor Russell Frost?” Logan asked, clearly recognizing the name. “Yes, he provided very important information about Miss Tess’s hideout, though Granny Lisa’s information came ten minutes earlier.”

Siren thought for a moment: "Do you know anything about him personally?" "Uh...not really, but I met him once. He seemed like a very refined gentleman," Logan replied.

"You... never mind, just keep an eye on the situation of these believers. I'll have to keep you busy for a while," Xilun said, then ended the call.

He then rang the secretariat's bell, but Green called first.

"Your Excellency, you wanted to see me? I happen to have some business to attend to as well," the young voice said quickly.

"You speak first."

"Yes, Professor Russell just scheduled another consultation for the day after tomorrow morning," he said.

“…” Xilun was silent for a while. Although he didn’t know why he did this, it should be a good thing. Maybe he would be willing to open his heart next time.

"Gather information about Russell, but don't arouse suspicion," Siren instructed.

"Yes, Your Excellency, by the way, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Green asked after taking notes.

"That's the matter."
-
"Master!" people shouted.

"Hmm, how is it?"

“They’ve been found in four locations… At least twenty-five cult members have been arrested, and we don’t know how many have died. We dare not go any closer.”

"Where's Tess?"

"...Seriously injured, the old man next door informed on me beforehand."

"What a pity, such a well-arranged show." He sighed.

“Master… although we have enough blood, there are still some flaws in our operation. There are too many people in Kalenburg,” the man said.

"Then who do you think should be blamed?"

“That’s not what I meant!” he quickly exclaimed. “I meant the Evangelical Fellowship…”

The two were silent for a while. They had started recruiting believers on their first day in Speyside, but a group called the Evangelical Fellowship had already taken over. It was entrenched in the lowest level of the organization, operating under the guise of a civil society organization. It seemed to be simply helping each other and occasionally gathering to recite scriptures, but it had directly occupied their niche.

It's like a mouse sneaking into a house, trying to steal something, only to find the house full of cats, and the renowned bishop is a large lynx sitting high on his throne, hunting the mice in the night.

Although he was always known for his gentle and compassionate nature, his fellow believers were horrified when they saw the vast underground network he operated within.

The setbacks in their missionary work led them to rely on their own people, even resorting to extreme measures such as kidnapping sacrificial offerings.

"What a filthy method," the cult leader sighed. The candlelight illuminated the small hut, revealing several people with terrified and tearful faces. They were tied to the ground, their mouths gagged, and the floor was covered in foul-smelling urine.

He looked at those utterly inelegant things with an expression of extreme disgust.

Back in Kalundborg, he didn't need to do these things. The sacrifices would walk up to the altar on their own, dressed in their finest clothes, with smiles on their faces, just like the maidens sacrificed to dragons in some northern myths.

They wore long white dresses and had golden braids. Barefoot, they walked on small boats covered with flowers and lay down quietly. The boats would drift to the center of the lake, burying their most beautiful moments.

(End of this chapter)