Ryan simply tidied up the tabletop.
The three items were arranged in a simple triangle.
Following the most basic knowledge in 《Lantern》, he channeled The Glory bit by bit into the lens, then pressed in that sliver of chaotic impression from the depths of the sea of Moth—one he could only barely withstand.
Blood slowly spread along the edges of the lens.
The white candle ignited on its own, without any wind.
Yet the flame was not red; it was a nearly transparent silver-white.
After lasting for only a dozen seconds, the flame extinguished itself.
Ryan could feel that it was now different.
As long as The Glory was channeled into it, this lens would continuously scramble any mental traces he left behind, forcing any onlookers to see increasingly chaotic trails.
Ryan slowly fitted the lens back into the frame.
As the final silver-white lines interlocked with one another, the entire pair of glasses vibrated gently. A faint glimmer of The Glory seemed to flash deep within the lens before quickly returning to normal.
He put the glasses back on.
The world became clear once more.
No.
It was even clearer than before.
A silver-white glow blanketed his entire field of vision.
Within the air, countless residual mental traces instantly surfaced.
Patients. Nurses. Doctors. Patrolmen. All kinds of auras intertwined.
Save for one, which carried a greasy stickiness that clearly belonged to the Grail, stretching from the ward's doorway deep into the hospital like a wet line of blood.
The corners of Ryan's mouth slowly curled upward.
“Found you.”
He pushed the door open and stepped out.
...
Due to the East Port riots over the past few days, the hospital had admitted a large number of casualties. Many doctors had been working for over twenty consecutive hours. Unable to hold out any longer, they simply slept in their offices and consultation rooms.
The trace finally stopped at a doctor's office at the end of the corridor.
The door was locked tight.
Ryan did not even bother looking for a key.
A flash of Lantern's glow flickered in his left eye.
The brass lock rapidly turned red and softened, then dripped to the floor like melting wax, making barely a sound.
The office was very quiet.
The doctor was slumped over the desk, seemingly fast asleep. Scattered beside him were several medical records and a kerosene lamp on the verge of burning out.
The exact moment Ryan stepped into the room, the doctor abruptly snapped his eyes open.
Their eyes met.
Neither side spoke.
In the next second, Ryan's left eye flared.
A blazing white light, like an invisible spear, pierced unreservedly into the other's mental world.
Boom!
The doctor's pupils contracted sharply. His mind felt as if it had been illuminated by a sun, and he let out a muffled shriek. Clasping his head tightly with both hands, he toppled over along with his chair.
Ryan gave him no chance to recover. He took a step forward and kicked him hard in the chest.
Thud!
The doctor was sent flying, crashing heavily into the bookcase behind him. The wooden boards splintered into pieces, and medical records fluttered through the air like snowflakes.
Even as the doctor shattered the bookcase, his body was already beginning to heal.
His broken ribs ground against each other with a sickening, grating noise. Flesh squirmed rapidly like a living thing, and his collapsed chest rose bit by bit. Within just a few breaths, the injuries that would have incapacitated an ordinary person were already mostly healed.
He coughed up a mouthful of blood and slowly stood up, a twisted smile appearing on his face.
“Lantern...”
Before he could finish his sentence, Ryan charged at him again.
His heart was pounding wildly right now; Simon's blood had granted him boundless vitality.
Once again, the glow in his left eye flared, and a blazing white beam pierced directly into the other's consciousness. The doctor's body stiffened violently, his healing process visibly halting for half a beat.
In that exact split second, Ryan slammed a fist into his throat, followed by a hard knee to his abdomen, and then kicked to snap his right leg.
The sounds of snapping bones rang out in quick succession.
The doctor was sent flying once more.
Yet upon hitting the ground, his broken right leg began to heal frantically again. Muscle fibers multiplied rapidly, and shattered bones reconnected. The speed of his recovery was almost uncanny.
Grail. Flesh. Reproduction. Desire.
Ryan watched this scene, not the least bit surprised.
He continued to slowly channel Lantern's glow into the newly completed lens.
Inside the lens, the silver-white lines belonging to the Lantern suddenly lit up, while the chaotic imprint hidden even deeper vibrated gently as if awakened.
This was the first time Ryan had truly activated his relic.
The lens flashed softly.
But a subtle deviation suddenly occurred in the recovery of the doctor's body.
The skin that was supposed to regrow instead sprouted a dense layer of fine, grayish-white down.
The doctor froze.
In the next moment, his expression finally changed.
Because the healing was still ongoing.
Only... it was healing incorrectly.
His broken right leg regrew, but with an extra joint. The knee split open once more, and a sharp, jointed bone spur slowly pierced through his skin, emerging drenched in blood.
His left arm swelled violently as flesh multiplied frantically, but what grew was not muscle, but a cluster of constantly twitching tumors.
The healed wound on his chest suddenly ripped open.
There were no internal organs inside. Only a squirming mass of white larvae.
They huddled together, writhing madly, before quickly burrowing back into the depths of his flesh.
The doctor finally let out a shrill, agonizing scream.
“No... Impossible!”
“My recovery... Why is my recovery...”
He looked down at his own body, true terror appearing in his eyes for the first time.
The power of the Grail was still repairing him.
Yet with each mend, it was as if another invisible hand had reached into his body, completely scrambling the correct direction of growth.
Flesh began to form in the wrong places. Bones began to grow in the wrong directions. Organs continuously multiplied and displaced.
A still-beating heart actually bulged upward along his collarbone, throbbing violently beneath the skin of his neck.
A slit tore open in his abdomen, and a half-formed lung was forced out, which rapidly sprouted several pairs of insectoid mouthparts that began to gnaw frantically on his own flesh.
The entire healing process had devolved into an out-of-control mutation.
Ryan stood quietly in place.
Watching the flowing glow within his lens, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as well.
“So... this is chaos.”
He had originally only wanted to disrupt the other party's mental imprint.
He had not expected that when the illumination of the Lantern and that sliver of chaos from the sea of Moth acted together upon the Grail Principle, the opponent's strongest ability—recovery—would instead become his most fatal weakness.
The recovery continued. The mutation continued as well.
The doctor knelt in a pool of blood, his hands desperately clawing at his own continuously growing flesh.
The office grew quiet once more.
The doctor had collapsed to his knees.
The Grail's recovery had completely spun out of control. His body constantly cycled between mending and collapsing, while his consciousness grew increasingly hazy.
Ryan slowly walked up to the doctor.
His left eye lit up once more.
He saw a very faint glimmer of The Glory slowly flowing behind the doctor's brow.
Ryan reached out and gripped the doctor's head.
In the next moment, as if drawn by a pull, that sliver of glow slowly detached from the doctor's consciousness and flowed through Ryan's palm into his left eye.
Countless unfamiliar images flashed by.
The hospital basement. A blood-colored ritual. Secret runes left by the Grail Principle. And several blurry figures engaging in grotesque acts.
“This doctor actually messed with corpses in the morgue.”
However, these images vanished in a flash. Most of them were already fragmented and incomplete, leaving behind only bits and pieces of knowledge.
Ryan closed his eyes, thinking no further of it.
The doctor's body gave one last, gentle twitch.
The final spark of life in his eyes was completely extinguished.
At the same time, the glow in Ryan's left eye grew slightly brighter than before.
He looked down at his hand.
The corners of his mouth slowly rose.
“So... it can be done like this too.”
He casually picked up a nearby white cloth and wiped his glasses clean.
Then, he turned and left the office.
...
The hospital corridor remained quiet.
Due to the East Port riots, the vast majority of the medical staff were concentrated in the other general ward building. This private ward floor was almost completely deserted.
Ryan had only walked a dozen meters or so when a night-shift nurse carrying a medicine tray came walking toward him.
The nurse froze for a moment.
She clearly had not expected a patient to be out at this hour.
Just as she was about to speak, Ryan looked up.
Their eyes met.
Deep within his left eye, a silver-white glow flashed gently.
The nurse felt as if her mind had been struck violently by something. Her vision instantly went white, and before she could even make a sound, her eyes rolled back and her body slumped.
Ryan reached out to catch her, gently set the medicine tray on the floor, and propped her up against the wall, making it look as if she had simply fallen asleep after a long shift.
After confirming that he had not alerted anyone else, he finally returned to his own ward and quietly closed the door.
Rate on N.U.
