"Calm down, calm down," Turing took a deep breath, despite the air being filled with the stench of decay and corruption.

"If it were Merka... if it were Merka, what would she do now?"

"It's definitely not Merka's style to blindly flip through books like an idiot."

"There must be something, some obvious clue that I overlooked."

"Hiss..." Turing's pupils abruptly contracted, a piercing pain shooting through her hand.

Startled, Turing slowly lowered her head to look, only to find elegant, blood-red words suddenly appearing on her wrist, like rust on an old sword that had been away from the battlefield for far too long, both savage and graceful.

Option: There's no choice now. This is your epitaph.

You were born to be a cigar cutter.

Sharp and stubborn, easily manipulated, without a second thought.

Thinking you're above the clouds.

In truth, you're just grasping at dirt.

A handful that can't uproot roses or cultivate wheat.

"What does this mean?"

Obviously, these two sentences were too difficult for Turing's limited life experiences to comprehend.

Crack.

That sound of steel teeth clashing suddenly echoed in the spacious archives room. Sunlight illuminated the various areas of the bookshelves as the lights turned on.

Turing looked up and discovered that each section of the bookshelves was topped with a glowing sign indicating their respective categories.

Some were labeled "Scientific Theories," some "Human Geography," and some "Research Findings" – of course, the research findings were about angels.

"Did that woman do this?"

Turing wondered in astonishment.

Quickly arriving at the book section corresponding to the research findings on angels, Turing randomly picked up a few books and flipped through them, finding the information she needed.

"This is great, now..."

"I really need to thank her."

Turing felt moved and gradually buried her previously irritable mood deep within her heart.

However, before Turing had a chance to read more books and fully come out of her joyful state, the sound of shattering glass shattered the silence once again.

Startled, Turing raised her head, her gaze directed towards the entrance obstructed by towering bookshelves.

Immediately following that, a shocking sound of flesh being torn apart struck Turing, piercing her brain.

Terrifying, horrifying, like a nightmarish imagination, an unstoppable imprint was etched into Turing's mind.

The quiet lobby seemed to become increasingly perilous because of the two strange sounds.

"What... what is it?"

"Did an angel enter? Is that woman dead?"

"But how is that possible? If only detection magic is used, external angels wouldn't be able to discover this place!"

"Did I make the wrong choice again?"

"No, that can't be... There must be some misunderstanding here."

"If she were really attacked by an angel, how could she not even scream?"

Turing felt like she was going crazy; she knew she should go and check the situation, but she just couldn't bring herself to move, to take a look.

The woman seemed to always lie at the silent entrance, forever separated from Turing by shelves of books, never to see Turing again in any way.

But Turing subconsciously felt as if the woman was hiding in the corner of the damaged bookshelf. Maybe it was the next shelf, or maybe the one after that. As long as Turing turned around or looked up, he could find her.

- Her radiant smile would tell Turing that, although she was still trapped in illness, she intended to come and search for information with Turing, helping him as much as possible within her abilities.

Turing crossed over one bookshelf after another, the steel barriers that he used to destroy and crush in his hands now transformed into terrifying devils, emitting twisted heavy fog; they mocked and ridiculed Turing as he timidly moved forward.

Turing's face turned pale in an instant, and as he crossed the final bookshelf, he could already smell the scent of blood.

A console reflecting a dazzling light appeared before Turing's eyes. When the lights were dim, Turing hadn't noticed it.

The headless body of the woman lay in front of the complex console, and in the black coffins scattered around were obviously recently opened ones, with some terrifying creatures breaking out of their shells, and an unending flow of black liquid emerging from there.

The bright lights seemed incapable of dispelling the horror before Turing.

A faceless, emaciated angel holding the woman's head stood beside one of the black coffins, hunched over, facing Turing.

————————————————————————————————

Altria Family, Elysburg

"Madam, I had instructed someone to prepare lunch beforehand. We have just returned home, and the journey was long. Would you like to have a meal and rest first?" Theresa carefully glanced at Oedipus's face out of the corner of her eye, leading him towards the castle.

Oedipus looked at the respectful Theresa with a playful look, as if he had heard something funny, and burst out laughing.

"Please continue," Oedipus's words made Theresa uncomfortable, as she didn't know what Oedipus meant by them.

Such unpredictable people are the most difficult to serve.

"I asked the head chef to make roasted pork knuckles for lunch today! Do you...-" Theresa tried to make her tone sound soothing and gentle.

Oedipus glared at Theresa, and his expression suddenly returned to his usual icy smile as if he had lost interest in teasing Theresa.

"Summon a few maidservants who are skilled in magic, and a few who can draw magic circles. Gather outside my room within ten minutes," Oedipus said casually.

"Also, bring Turing over. Don't try anything sneaky, do you understand?"

"I don't care what you think. As long as you do as I say, I can pretend I know nothing," Oedipus said calmly.

"Don't disappoint me, Theresa. You don't have a chance anymore," Oedipus finished, taking a step forward towards his office, leaving Theresa alone to sigh where she stood.

Compared to the cliché master-servant relationship between Oedipus and Theresa, the situation on Merka's side was much more interesting.

Okay, Oedipus had left. Shouldn't I take this opportunity to explore Turing's room and get to know Turing better?

Although entering a girl's room made Merka's cheeks flush, she had to approach it seriously, knowing that staying at Altria's house was contingent on this.

Merka pushed open the door and saw a spacious and luxurious bedroom, beyond her imagination.

The splendid decorations and fragrant aroma filled the room, creating a harmonious and serene atmosphere along with the exquisite furniture.

The only discordant element was the presence of two girls sitting at the desk next to the bookshelf.

One of them was casually sitting cross-legged on the chair, idly spinning a pen.

The other one was sitting upright, placing a book on her lap, absorbed in her reading.

Does the young lady have to share her bedroom with someone else?

Merka couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the thought.