Upon hearing the name, a flicker of an unusual expression crossed the pale face, but the man quickly concealed it, pulling a strange smile as his hands pressed against the counter. His skin looked like a thin film wrapped over his knobby finger bones, his fingers long and branch-like, constantly rubbing together.
Like a hairless, pallid rat living in the sewers.
"He's not here right now," the man replied.
"Out practicing medicine."
Bologue stared at the man, using the gas mask for concealment, his gaze sweeping toward the corners.
The interior lighting was dim, the fan blades on the ceiling spinning continuously, emitting a series of annoying noises. Aside from the counter and the medicine cabinet behind the man, Bologue couldn't see many useful items. However, he sensed that something was amiss in this clinic.
As he walked from the corridor to the clinic, he had noticed the clinic's architecture—it was like a giant metallic tumor hanging off a cliff. Logically, the interior space should be vast, but the area Bologue was in was excessively cramped, with more space likely hidden in unseen darkness.
"When will he be back?" Bologue asked.
"I am not sure, really, considering the place is called Wandering Crossroads, unexpected things always accompany it, don't they?"
The man chuckled, his face displaying a slight distorted morbidity.
"Do you need anything else? If it is to prescribe a potion, you only need to pay," the man continued as his slender fingers brushed over the bottles and jars on the medicine cabinet, "If you have come to the wrong place, then please leave as soon as possible."
Bologue didn't respond. Relying on the power of the Concealer, his figure was quite hazy, like a blurred mist in the dim environment. When he remained silent, he was like a speechless ghost.
"Alright, I understand, sorry for the interruption."
Bologue said, turning around to head toward the iron door.
But as he reached the doorway, Bologue halted, like a wall blocking the passage to the outside world. Facing away from everyone, a chaotic, hoarse voice emerged from the shadows beneath his top hat.
"I've always wanted to play a role ."
The man's expression changed slightly behind the counter, his hand reached for the hilt below the counter, and a slight sound came from the darkness, as if someone had stood up from a chair, gearing for action.
"Punisher, abuser, executor..."
Word after word was uttered, echoing in the darkness. The man stared intently at Bologue's back, momentarily seeing Bologue turn his head in the deep shadows with a pair of blue eyes staring right at him.
A voice firm as iron lingered at the man's ear.
"By now, Bologue should have reached the Wandering Crossroads, right?"
In the Order Bureau's cafeteria, Geoffrey forked a piece of steaming beef sausage, his eyes looking skyward, pondering over Bologue, who was executing the mission.
Yas sat across from Geoffrey, the two sharing a dinner. Ideally, Yas would rather dine at home than work overtime at the Order Bureau.
"This can be considered another kind of assessment, right? Leaving him to complete this task alone without any veteran. Does Lebius still not trust him?" Yas thought aloud.
Missions outside the Order Bureau always contain risks. For a newcomer like Bologue, regulations dictate that an experienced member should accompany him on tasks.
"Bologue has roughly been interning for about a year, it's just his first time facing a potential Condenser. This shouldn't be a problem," Geoffrey said, taking a big bite of sausage and bread, "Besides, rather than not trusting him, I feel Lebius is trying to test Bologue."
"Yes, test this guy, to see what he can accomplish. After all, assessments and real combat differ somewhat."
Geoffrey paused his eating, pondering, as if recalling something amusing, revealing an odd smile on his face.
"Yas, if it were you, how would you capture the target?"
"If it were me... I'd survey the terrain first, then find a way to infiltrate and hold a dagger to his neck."
Yas waved his hand as he spoke, and a shiny silver dagger appeared in his hand. No one saw how the dagger materialized, and as his hand dropped, the dagger vanished.
"That's your style, so think about how Bologue would do it?" Geoffrey asked.
"I can't say. Maybe like me, secretly infiltrate and then capture him," Yas replied, admitting he hadn't had much interaction with Bologue.
"Hmm... That approach is pretty standard; those solutions are a bit too boring," Geoffrey said, with Yas failing to comprehend his words.
"Then how do you think he'll do it?" Yas inquired.
After a two-second thought, Geoffrey looked at his plate, where the sausage had been cut into pieces, with the sauce resembling blood, covering the scattered minced meat.
"Rather than answering that, I'd like to say something else first... "
Geoffrey furrowed his brows, not directly answering Yas's question, instead beginning a discussion about Bologue himself.
"As I said before, Bologue has spent too long in the Black Prison, which has taken a mental toll on him. Worse still, I think Adelle's death has stirred something within him, exacerbating his condition."