Rhodes Island does not exist.

"Snapped."

Warfarin lifted a nearly intact piece of internal organ by hand and placed it on an open ground.

Then, she squatted down and began to carefully observe the changes in the internal organ.

"how?"

After about thirty seconds, the doctor asked a question.

“…It’s very bad.” Warfarin’s voice was low.

She was initially reluctant to believe the information the doctor brought, and as reality drew closer to what the doctor had described, she felt increasingly disappointed.

After all, this is tantamount to crushing her ideals and pursuits step by step.

In the end, the entrails collapsed into a pile of rotten mud on the ground.

Just as the doctor said.

"Ah," the doctor shrugged, expressing regret, "it seems nothing has changed this time either."

"Do not."

But Warfarin interrupted the doctor.

She shook her head, her red eyes sparkling with wisdom.

"I can't say there haven't been any changes; I've discovered some new things. Things I've never discovered before."

"For example?" the doctor asked.

“For example… I think I understand what theory this bio-tank is based on to operate.” Warfarin’s right hand gently touched the body of the bio-tank that had just contained rotten flesh, her knuckles slightly bent, like an earthworm emerging from the ground after rain.

"tell me the story."

The doctor showed some interest in Warfarin's remarks.

“You’ve read my notes, so you should know what I used to think about this jar,” Warfarin said slowly.

"You think this tank is actually reversing the timeline of the biological tissue placed inside, returning it to its former full and thriving state." The doctor nodded and replied, "Is that right?"

“Yes, at the time, my thinking was influenced by this perspective, which led me into a fatal misconception. I thought that as long as I could crack the secret of this biological tank, I could find a usable solution from the perspective of [time] or [reduction].” Warfarin’s fingertips moved along the edge of the tank, sliding upwards with the liquid secreted from the rotting flesh she had just touched, drawing a viscous trail.

“But in reality, this is not a restoration at all.” Warfarin picked up the rotten remains that had been placed on the ground. “It has nothing to do with the reversal of time, but with the exchange of lives.”

"Oh?" The doctor's tone and manner were full of complexity.

“What this biological tank does is inject life into those bodies that were already dead and rotting, bringing them back to their original living state.” Warfarin stared at the intact organs and viscera in the tank, speaking slowly and deliberately. “But this injection of life is achieved in the form of a connection, so once they leave the tank, they will quickly lose their vitality in a short time and return to their rotten and decaying state. Even the last remaining life force in their bodies will be taken away.”

“And this is the answer to what you meant by why they end up worse than they were at the beginning,” Warfarin said, taking a deep breath and then sighing.

"How confident are you in your reasoning?" the doctor asked with a smile. "Can you maintain that the intelligence you've just obtained is correct?"

“I don’t know.” Warfarin bent down, picked up some pieces of the corpse that had already slumped into mud with her left hand, and shook her head. “But my intuition tells me that this is more reliable than the time reversal theory and restoration theory that sounded somewhat absurd before.”

"Will your future research be conducted from this perspective?" the doctor asked.

“I think so.” Warfarin’s fingers gradually withdrew from the surface of the cylinder. “And… I have some other, slightly daring things I want to try.”

"As long as it doesn't harm yourself or your companions, it's fine." Noticing the hint of unease in Warfarin's eyes, the Doctor couldn't help but offer a gentle reminder.

“Being bold doesn’t mean causing harm,” Warfarin argued.

Although the doctor couldn't read even a hint of explanation in her eyes.

Chapter 291, Part 289: A Vivid Shattering

Sometime in the past, at the Rhodes Island base in Ursus, under the cover of night after dinner.

"sand--"

The tent flap was roughly pulled open by the newcomer, letting in a Sarkaz whose skin was completely pale.

"You really came."

The doctor sat upright in his chair, like a straight ruler, with several reports and documents on a simple folding table in front of him.

He had anticipated the arrival of the visitor.

The high-energy grenade launcher she was currently carrying and the bomb straps wrapped around her body were also within his expectations.

"Because I was interrupted by the logistics staff before I could finish speaking last time." W casually found a stool and sat down, then took out a cloth from his pocket as if no one else was there, and began to wipe and oil the launcher in his hand.

"You mean, about your stalking and investigation of me?" The doctor smiled as he reviewed the documents on the table. "I don't care, and as I said, your investigation and stalking of me were all done with my tacit approval, so no one will stop you—including me."

"What an arrogant doctor." W rubbed the cloth in his hand against the grenade launcher, making every part it touched reflect a different kind of luster. "With just one sentence, he turned all my past efforts into ashes."

“Because that’s the truth.”

The doctor, without glancing to the side, continued reviewing the documents. "And one point must be mentioned is that, besides you, approximately eight other operators also investigated and monitored me, and those operators—"

"Was that with your tacit approval?" W paused for a second or two while wiping his gun.

"I suppose so." The Doctor pulled a document away from in front of him and put it into the folder next to him. "After all, I understand the operators' curiosity about me, so when they want to find out more, I usually make things easy for them."

"So, they all realized you were different too?" W's gaze became curious. "They all realized your special qualities?"

"If they all realized it, then you wouldn't be the only one coming to chat with me now." The doctor gave a wry smile. "At this point, you're the only one I know who's using this as an excuse to get close to me."

"However, at this point, it would be offensive to you to call this an excuse, so just pretend I never said that." The doctor smiled and turned back to reviewing the documents.

“I’ve asked that old woman Kal’tsit, and I’ve asked other people about your past.” W didn’t care whether the Doctor’s words had offended her or not, and just continued to say what she had to say. “But their answers were all extremely similar, even completely consistent, so consistent that I started to suspect that you had memorized a script for them beforehand.”

"Oh? What did they say?" the doctor asked W, feigning interest.

“They only said that you used to be a military doctor, a traveling doctor, and that you helped many people for free… It was all just empty idealism.” W’s voice was low. “But for some reason, once I knew that you were the one who led all that empty idealism, I started to believe that it was true.”

“Because they are real.” The doctor put down his pen and looked at W. “This is my life trajectory before the Tower of Babel was built.”

"Saving people by allocating their lives?" W chuckled strangely. "What doctor in the world would do that? Especially not for free?"

Immediately afterwards, the expression on W's face changed from a smile to a sinister one.

"Doctor, I hope you can explain where your ancient Originium Arts came from, and who you are."

"Who am I?"

After a brief pause, the doctor smiled slowly.

The laughter, like the layers of a pea and the princess's bedsheets, was carefully laid out before finally flowing out as sound, spreading throughout the entire tent.

“w”.

The professor capped the pen on the table and put it away. He also temporarily placed the documents awaiting approval into an empty file folder before standing up.

"Although I don't know if it's because of Theresa or someone else, I suggest you think about whether it's all worth it if you want to keep your eyes on me all the time."

"Do not."

W shook her head, and that signature strange laugh seeped from the corner of her mouth.

“Originally, I also thought all of this was meaningless. Once we found out that His Highness’s cause of death was Theresis, we could stop for the time being. But who can blame me for actually discovering your secret?” she laughed. “Who can blame me for actually discovering this Tower of Babel, and that the commander of Rhodes Island is truly a monster?”

"No, no, no, I misspoke. Doctor, you are not a monster. You should be called a god." W shook his head. "I had only heard that Ursus had evil gods and Yan had ancient gods, but I never thought that there was a living god right beside me, on Rhodes Island."

"To say something like that shows you don't understand what the gods of Terra really are." The Doctor's gaze fell on W as if he were looking at a pigeon in a square.

“Yes, you’re right. I do not know much about the gods of Terra.” W shrugged, the smile on his lips still undiminished. “After all, I am neither like you who know both philosophy and folklore, nor like those operators from bustling places who have plenty of talking points. But I can still be sure that everything I have witnessed is not fake.”

"Maybe."

The doctor shook his head, unsure of what to say to W in front of him that would make her willing to listen.

"Tell me, Doctor." W's offensive didn't stop there. "How many Rhodes Island operators who joined us for medical treatment had their physical functions restored thanks to your ancient Originium Arts?"

"I don't know, I haven't kept track of this kind of thing." But the doctor simply chose not to answer.

"Impossible, you couldn't possibly have not done the statistics. You just didn't want to say it, after all, you're completely connected to PRTS, and—right." W seemed to suddenly remember something and immediately abandoned his questioning of the Doctor, instead turning to another topic.

“After I asked the old lynx about your situation, she answered most of the questions.” W stood up, slung the high-energy grenade launcher she had polished to a gleaming shine back onto her back, and then said, “So, since you’re already a monster, isn’t she, who knows about your past, an even bigger monster?”

-

Thank you segment.

Thank you to the paper airplane in the dream of Gutongjing sama, the science popularizer szy希灵提督 scp特工zyz for the monthly pass and the blade, thank you.

Chapter 292 Two hundred and ninety, prototype

If other senior operators were in this tent at the moment, they would probably remind W not to speak rudely and to respect the Doctor, who is in charge of Rhodes Island.

However, now it's just her and the doctor. The doctor is also well aware that W may not know how to spell the word "respect".

If she knew how to respect others, she wouldn't be W.

Perhaps the only person in the world she truly respected was Theresa.

—At least that's what the doctor thinks.

"What did Kal'tsit tell you?" The Doctor stopped reviewing the documents, shifting his gaze from the dull ink and faded paper to W, who was standing beside him, fully armed.

“She said quite a lot,” W shrugged. “Although I only caught the gist of it… After all, you know that old woman doesn’t like to speak like a human being. Talking to her is like doing reading comprehension, it’s a real headache.”

"Is that so?" The doctor tilted his head.

“Ah, of course you wouldn’t think that way.” W rolled his eyes at the doctor. “After all, you and that old woman are from the same boat, unlike me, a rough guy who grew up as a mercenary. The only thing I know is which bombs are powerful or which bombs make the loudest noise.”

"I think you've done very well," the Doctor said with a smile, praising W. "Your experience, knowledge, and perspectives are already far superior to those of your mercenary colleagues in Kazdel."

“That’s why I was able to become the captain.” W patted the other Laterano gun hanging at his waist. “How can I gain the trust of those outlaws if I don’t show them something?”

"It seems you also trust your Kazdel mercenary brothers." The Doctor nodded.

"You understand, that's all that matters." W said with a sly smile. "So, regarding what the old woman said, I can tell you one thing very clearly."

“Go on,” the doctor said, looking at her.

“She said that Rhodes Island is preparing to design and build a machine specifically for repairing biological tissue.” W also turned his gaze back to the Doctor, “and the design concept, the source of inspiration, and the principles by which this machine works… are all your Originium Arts.”

"So what are your thoughts after hearing that?" the professor asked.

"Me? What else can I think?" W's laughter carried a hint of helplessness. "I'm just an unofficial operator at Rhodes Island. I'm not even allowed to attend meetings, so my thoughts are probably useless, just like a dud."

"No, the internal affairs meeting isn't the end of all discussions." The Doctor shook his head. "Actually, if possible, I'd also like to hear the opinions of each operator—"

"—No, you don't want to." But W directly refuted the Doctor's words, "Because no one can guarantee that there are spies on Rhodes Island, or that they won't pass on such important information, so even if you are that altruistic, your rationality will stop you."

“Okay, you’re right,” the doctor sighed. “But I still care about your feelings.”

"Hey...?" W chuckled strangely. "You actually care about me that much? I'm quite flattered."

"Is that not allowed?" the doctor asked in return.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” W slowly took two steps toward the doctor’s position. “But as for my thoughts on that matter… I think it’s a good thing.”

"That's a rare instance of someone telling the truth," the doctor commented.

"Rare?" W lowered his head slightly to look at the Doctor sitting in the chair, then straightened up and shook his head. "Maybe so, but after saying it's a good thing, I have another point to make."

"what?"

“If Rhodes Island has successfully used your Originium Arts to create that machine, then the secrecy must be airtight,” W said. “Or, if not, then don’t build it at all.”

"You sound very worried about the consequences of that machine," the doctor asked.

"Why wouldn't I be worried? What reason do I have not to be worried?" Upon hearing the Doctor's question, W immediately shook his head with his usual smile. "Doctor, do you even understand what you're doing?"

“I understand, and it is precisely because I understand that I must do it,” the doctor said.

“The old woman gave me a slightly more detailed explanation of the machine.” W sighed. “She said that based on the current progress of the experiment, the machine can now revitalize the internal organs removed from animals, but it can only revitalize them, not give them life.”

"Because immortality and resurrection are..."

“Because immortality and resurrection are the greatest taboos, an act that can destroy everything we know and cherish. All the reasoning and morality in the world, regardless of which school of thought they belong to, are based on the fact that all men must die and the dead cannot be brought back to life—” W recited the sentence word for word like a student reciting an exam question, “—you don’t have to keep bringing this up.”

"I just wanted to emphasize my principles," the doctor replied. "But you remember them well."

"I didn't want to remember it so clearly, but you said so much that I had no choice but to remember it, and now I can't forget it." W rolled her eyes at the doctor. "So, if this machine is eventually completed, will it be able to do it?"

"What?"

"Brought back to life," W said.

When she uttered the words "bringing the dead back to life," her voice trembled noticeably for a moment.

With the doctor's quick reflexes, he would naturally not miss this detail, but conversely, he would not say it aloud.

"Didn't you say you've been observing and tracking me for a long time?" Understanding W's simple wish from her words, the Doctor couldn't help but chuckle. "Then, during all this time of observation and tracking, you must have already found the answer to the question you asked, right?"