Chapter 13: Crazy Blue Syndrome
“Crazy Blue Syndrome?”
Fisher chewed on this term that sounded particularly obscure in the Nali language and spoke with some confusion.
“Yes,” Keken said, first biting into a piece of steak. After swallowing it quickly, he continued, “Have you ever seen someone go mad, becoming like a simple beast?”
“You mean a situation like a certain mental illness?”
Keken shook his head, as if a terrifying image flashed before his eyes, leaving him somewhat haunted.
“What if, in addition, all of a person’s eyes, nostrils, and ears oozed blue liquid? While going mad, they bring their mouth, covered in blue liquid, close to bite your flesh as if we are so delicious.”
Countless diseases recorded in medical texts flashed through Fisher’s mind, but in the end, none corresponded to this. In his long academic career, such a disease had never appeared in the Western Continent.
It didn’t sound like a purely mental illness; what about that blue liquid? Was it poisoning or some kind of infection?
He quickly became interested and wiped his mouth before speaking to Keken, “Very interesting. Please elaborate on what’s going on, how many samples there are, and their current condition?”
“Um, let me think…”
If Keken knew he was going to talk business, he wouldn’t have drunk so much alcohol. The alcohol seemed to slow his thinking like glue, and recalling the details was as painful as twisting a rusty spring.
But then again, it was precisely the drinking that reminded him of this matter; otherwise, he would have never added this troublesome note to their lighthearted conversation.
Fortunately, Fisher was very patient, and while Keken was thinking, he had time to observe the distracted Raphael.
It turned out that Keken’s two ladies were watching her with great interest, causing her to adjust her sitting posture awkwardly. Unfortunately, her manner of eating was too exaggerated, and now pretending to be composed was clearly too late.
After several seconds, Keken resumed the topic.
“It was about a month or two ago that we received our first patient with such symptoms. A doctor from the city reported to me that she suspected it was some kind of new infectious disease, so she came to ask for my opinion.”
“So, after the report, has anyone else been infected?”
Upon hearing Fisher’s question, Keken shook his head.
“No. After I learned about this, I temporarily isolated the first patient in a cell, along with the doctors and nurses who had come into contact with him. But a month has passed, and they showed no signs of infection, so I had to let the doctors and nurses go. However, new cases have continuously come in from outside the city, and so far, there are already more than ten cases, all locked up in the city’s cells.”
Fisher pinched his fingers, his mind constantly thinking about diseases that could produce such symptoms, but there were very few diseases that could meet both conditions, especially the oozing of blue liquid from the seven orifices.
“Interesting… take me to the prison to have a look; perhaps we can make some new discoveries.”
“Are you interested? That’s great! How about we set off now? Dora, go arrange a carriage; we’ll head over right away.”
Upon receiving Fisher’s confirmation, Keken became quite excited. As Dora left to arrange the carriage, Fisher casually mentioned to Raphael his intention to check out this peculiar disease in the prison.
Fisher guessed that this disease only appeared in the Southern Continent — could it be caused by something unique to the Southern Continent? He casually asked Raphael about it.
Upon learning they were leaving, she was absolutely willing; those two human females had made her scales stand on end, and if she didn’t leave soon, her backside would stiffen like a piece of iron.
Upon hearing Fisher describe the disease, she curled her lip and replied, “Dragons rarely get sick; how would I know about your human diseases?”
Fisher ignored her somewhat irritable tone, for he never expected to get any reliable answers from Raphael anyway.
Waiting at the entrance for Keken to finish in the washroom, Fisher checked with his staff to see if anyone was near his carriage.
Seeing that the purple stripe in the middle of the staff did not light up or was damaged, he breathed a sigh of relief; this meant that no one had touched the carriage’s protective rune from either the inside or the outside.
If the carriage was his most precious possession, then this staff was his second most important item. It was engraved with all the available magic runes, of various types and effects.
In this world, mages cannot trigger extraordinary effects simply by shouting a few spells like those in novels and myths. After all, the essence of magic is to replay the world’s “echo” through the magical circuits, and the stronger the “echo” required, the more complex the magical circuit needs to be.
Such magical circuits cannot be completed in an instant; real-life mages mostly engrave their spells in some place for later use. In times of danger or other situations, they release their magic circuits like using disposable items.
“Magic is not a miracle of luck but a rigorous construction.”
This was the opening statement of the professor of his first “Fundamentals of Magic Theory” course at the Saint Nali Royal Academy. Although the academy displayed its unbearable decay, he had to admit that there were many wise scholars there, and he had benefited greatly from it.
The staff in Fisher’s hand was engraved with all the magical circuits he possessed, and losing it would be a colossal loss.
It was probably about ninety percent of the pain of losing the carriage.
Fisher’s mind made this strange comparison.
“Sorry to keep you waiting; let’s set off.”
“No problem.”
Keken took a towel to wipe his hands, quickly donned his suit jacket, and walked outside with Fisher. Raphael followed closely by Fisher’s side, warily watching the two ladies smiling and waving at her.
Such strange humans.
She shook her tail and thought.
“Speaking of which, things aren’t so peaceful on the Western Continent. I heard that the friction between Shivali and Nali has been increasing lately, and even the Southern Continent can smell the gunpowder. The people from Shivali next door have been interacting less and less with us lately, and they’ve also brought a lot of weapons over…”
In the carriage, Keken chattered about the happenings on the Western Continent.
Fisher and Raphael looked out the window together, where they passed by a street selling subhuman slaves. However, this time the slave trader wasn’t shouting; instead, he sat resting on a chair nearby.
“They do this every year.”
“No, Mr. Fisher, this time it’s serious. The new queen of Shivali is a shrewd and capable woman; the development of the Southern Continent is an opportunity. She already doesn’t want to play house anymore with Nali and Cardu on the Western Continent.”
“Then she’ll have to deal with the nobles in her own country first; Nali and Cardu won’t let her have it that easy.”
As they chatted about this political gossip, their journey drew closer to the prison that Keken mentioned. The prison was located just a street away from the spot where subhuman slaves were sold. When they got off the carriage, Raphael glanced in that direction for a long time, her expression dark and unexplainable.
But she didn’t speak, and since Fisher didn’t bring it up either, he slowly withdrew his gaze from Raphael, urging her to keep up and walk toward the prison.
“Mr. Fisher, this way. I’ve locked them up on the highest floor, separated from other inmates.”
The prison environment here was very poor; there were no coal lamps or any illumination, with only an oil lamp lit in the guard area. Furthermore, the southern continent’s humid weather caused a thin layer of mist to cling to the stone walls, and sound could be heard dripping in the dark depths of the cells.
Fisher, holding his staff, followed Keken upstairs. The further up they went, the clearer the vague “ugh ugh ah ah” sounds from below became.
That was a human voice, sounding confused, almost like an unconscious beast.
Unlike below, this area had more guard rooms arranged by Keken, and torches were mounted abundantly outside the cells, allowing Fisher to see inside the scenes relatively clearly.
“Mr. Fisher, look.”
Following his lead, Fisher peered through the light from outside. Inside the large cell, several figures were sitting and lying like walking corpses, mumbling softly. Many were still wearing their original clothes, but after months of imprisonment, they had long become filthy and rancid.
Yet they seemed to feel no difference; among the patients, there were both men and women, all with gaunt faces, resembling the frail and withered.
“Do they eat anything?”
“Yes, they do. They will unconsciously consume raw meat and water, but they show no desire for it; if they aren’t given anything, they won’t cry out. A couple of them have already starved to death. They only react to… well, humans, and if you get too close, they will madly pounce over.”
It sounded like a monster created by a sci-fi novelist from Saint Nali, yet it truly appeared right before his eyes.
Fisher stood at the door of the cell, too far to see clearly, but he could distinctly see the striking blue liquid dripping from those people’s faces onto the floor of the cell.
Raphael’s pupils contracted; her uniquely dragon-like eyes allowed her to still see the human figures clearly in the dark. Looking at those pitiful humans, an inappropriate sense of satisfaction arose in her heart, as if they were the ones torturing her kind. But soon, she dismissed that notion, feeling very foolish for even thinking that way.
However, it was evident that she wouldn’t feel the slightest sympathy for the humans inside.
So soon, she lost interest, only occasionally glancing at Fisher, who was focused, calculating in her heart whether attacking him at this moment would succeed.
But even if she killed him, wouldn’t she end up being caught by other humans?
Unaware of Raphael’s little calculations, Fisher squinted at the interior for a while before suddenly turning to Keken and saying,
“Open the cell; I want to go in and take a look. It’s too far to see clearly here.”
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(*`*)
(End of this chapter)
