Lann, who was the last to walk down the stairs of Yusefka Clinic, waved goodbye, and on the stairs, two little girls also bid him farewell.
"Goodbye, kind Hunter."
In Yan’an, it seems the highest praise for a Hunter is to call them a ’kind Hunter’.
When Lann walked out of Yusefka Clinic and retraced the road used to bring Gascogne’s family, he noticed something he had missed earlier in his haste after climbing the ladder.
A warning lantern outside a window was still lit.
The warning light is a means for the Yan Nan People on the night of the hunt to signal Hunters that the residents inside still possess sanity.
The glass lamp outside the house can be filled with oil from inside and kept burning, a behavior proving the people inside are normal.
Lann stepped forward and knocked on the window, thinking that the Yusefka Clinic was only a few steps down the ladder nearby, so it wouldn’t be a hassle to mention it to this person.
But the sound approaching from inside the house wasn’t that of a normal person’s footsteps; instead, it was the sound of wheelchair wheels rolling.
"Is it... a Hunter? This night is so long, yet you’re the first Hunter to come and find me. Cough, cough."
In the candlelight inside the house, a silhouette of a person sitting in a wheelchair cast upon the curtain.
His voice was old and accompanied by wheezing and coughing, sounding labored and unhealthy.
"A Hunter... I suppose. Sir, do you need assistance? There’s a clinic downstairs, I can take you there. It won’t be pleasant, but I can promise speed."
The xenophobia of the Yan Nan People made him admit to being a Hunter, but the old man in the room seemed to recognize him because of this.
"I’m Gilbert, young sir. You, cough, cough, you are a foreigner, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’m a foreigner too. After staying in Yan’an for a long time, I learned to recognize them."
After speaking, the voice inside the house made a laborious joke.
"You must be enjoying yourself, right? The hospitality of the Yan Nan People toward guests is indeed impressive."
"You don’t need to worry about me, young sir. I am suffering from a terminal illness, cough, cough."
As he spoke, he coughed hoarsely, taking a while to stop.
"The blood therapies of this city gave me time, allowing me to live to my current age, but that’s all. I don’t even know if I can stand up anymore."
His tone in the previous sentence was carefree and resigned, but the following one became serious and advisory.
"But you might not have the same luck, young sir. This city is cursed, and everything you gain here will only harm you. If you’re not too deeply entangled, you should consider how to leave first."
Lann suddenly fell silent.
The time of this night was interfered with, although Lann wasn’t sure if this interference could control the spherical junction fissures caused by Chaos Magic Power from another world.
But even if he couldn’t influence it, he couldn’t let the creepy and demonic forces in Yan’an seep through.
This was the agreement he had with the Lady of the Lake.
"It sounds like you’ve been in Yan’an a long time, Gilbert. I can’t leave now; I must investigate some unusual matters. Can you give me a hint?"
The old man inside the window was silent for a moment before chuckling indifferently.
"Hunter, oh Hunter... every Hunter who comes to Yan’an has desires they wish to fulfill and are unwavering. Why would I think I could persuade you to leave?"
After laughing, Gilbert began to respond to Lann’s inquiry.
"What’s unusual about Yan’an, what else could there be? Only blood, the Yan Nan People’s peculiar and strange blood. They’ve already been tormented by that blood more than once; such a night of hunting isn’t the first... but no one listens, no one would listen to a foreigner, haha... they prefer to remain intoxicated in the blood."
As Lann expected, foreigners who didn’t grow up in Yan’an, influenced by its culture, wouldn’t find it unrelated to the plague of beasts and blood.
The Healing Church’s "blood therapy" established a healthcare system in Yan’an, or did it set up a disease transmission network?
Lann always had no qualms about speculating on an established religious system with the greatest malice.
If it were a primitive, humane, non-strict doctrinal religion, perhaps there would be a bit of warmth.
But for a mature sect that’s become a tool of governance, there’s no way their hands would be clean.
"Old Yan’an. That terrible fire, the horrible night of hunting, destroyed the whole of Old Yan’an. Today’s Yan’an was newly built over decades. If you want to learn more, you must take a trip to Old Yan’an yourself, or ask any surviving Old Hunters."
As he spoke, Gilbert started coughing again. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel~fire~net
"Not all the Yan Nan People are oblivious, cough, cough. Because the Healing Church sealed the town’s exit on the night Old Yan’an was burned down. After moving into present-day Yan’an, they even rejected ’blood therapy’ for a while. But that was of no use, the allure of ’blood therapy’ and the Healing Church’s renewed promotion made individual rejection irrelevant. Yan’an would still become the ’Land of Blood Therapy’."
"That’s all, young sir. My decaying mind can only remember this much. Please don’t worry about me, continue your business."
Gilbert emphasized to Lann once again not to concern himself with him.
"I’m a lucky man. Escaped from terminal illness, escaped from Old Yan’an, and even now, I can die as a human, not a beast... no more grand wishes left, young sir."
"Take this; go about your business."
The window opened a crack, and an aged and pale hand handed out a metal object.
Lann reached out to receive it.
Other than the ornate patterns emblematic of the era on it, it looked like an old-fashioned pressurized sprayer.
The lingering smell of gasoline on it told Lann this was a flamethrower.
"Thank you, Gilbert. I wish you... I wish you well."
Lann nodded, unsure how to say goodbye to someone who was dying and had come to accept it.
The old man inside the window laughed while coughing.
"Cough, cough, ah~ how nice. I also wish you well, kind Hunter. It’s been some days since I’ve heard greetings not related to ’blood,’ thank you, thank you..."
Inside the house, the sound of the wheelchair rolling faded away.
After putting the flame thrower into the Alchemy Pouch, Lann pursed his lips and left.
On this unending night, all people will eventually die.
Whether he wishes to find the power that halts time, or the force that tries to draw him into a dream.
All in Yan’an... ultimately leads back to the "blood," traces back to the origins of "blood therapy."