At an unknown stop, the bullet-riddled train slowly enters the station.
This was followed by a large number of logisticians boarding the vehicles, inspecting the damage, and collecting the bodies.
The youth, mummified and wrapped in Eleazar, opened his eyes at some point, he didn't say a word, his eyes were vacant until someone turned their head without noticing that he was awake, startling everyone.
His hair fell out like dandelions, and in no time he was bald, even his eyebrows had fallen out.
"It's..."
"Fukuo, are you okay?"
"I... It's good..."
His voice was hollow and raspy, not at all like he was okay.
The captain, without further hesitation, quickly got a stretcher, and the men placed him on it with all hands.
Eleazar watched silently as they got out of the car.
That young constable's life was saved, I just don't know what aftereffects the alchemy potion left him with.
After a long time, the overhauled train slowly departed again.
...
In the town's ambulance station, the old physician was examining the wounded man who was losing hair all over his body.
After a while, he came out with a pensive face.
The captain asked in a hurry:
"Doctor, my team member... How is he?"
"He is in perfect health, you may rest assured."
"And his hair, how did it suddenly fall out?"
"It was a survival instinct."
The old physician remained full of thought.
"Just as a gecko breaks its tail to survive and a hamster spits out all the food in its cheek pouches, there are a variety of subconscious survival responses that individual creatures make when they encounter a deadly crisis."
The captain had a vague feeling that there was something wrong with the doctor's example, but what was wrong he couldn't say.
"So... Can we go in and visit him now?"
"Oh, that's fine, you can take him now."
"?"
"He was shot twice in the body, so he can get out of the hospital that soon!"
The old physician grinned.
"I should say there's no need for hospitalization, the people who gave him first aid handled it well, and you can take him back to recuperate."
"Is that what it looks like?"
The captain walked into the hospital room a little puzzled.
On the white hospital bed, his somewhat comical-looking team member sat up and stared blankly out the window.
"Fusheng, how do you feel!"
"Captain, and everyone..."
"What's wrong with you, why do you look so stupid?"
"I don't know, it always feels like I've been asleep for a long time."
Fussen touched his shiny head in confusion.
The captain suddenly felt filled with guilt; if he had been paying a little more attention, maybe he wouldn't have gotten him into this state.
"Fusheng, do you feel sick anywhere?"
"No, Captain, I feel... strong as if I could beat a bull to death."
"Fukuo, do you remember what you do for a living?"
"Remember, aren't we going to look into train robberies this trip, I'll be fine, I can always check in."
The crowd in the room sucked in a breath of cold air on the spot.
Fukuo's memory is seriously skewed.
The captain smiled a far-fetched smile and after signaling with his eyes for everyone to stay with the chaperone, he stepped outside with a grim look on his face and found the old healer.
"What's wrong with him, it's like he doesn't remember anything that happened in the car at all!"
"It's normal. Typical traumatic stress disorder. Mental disorders caused by near-death, death threats, or severe injuries."
The captain was even less able to accept this explanation.
"Are you kidding me, he just got shot in a manhunt..."
"How would you know if you hadn't died?"
The old physician tapped him on the shoulder.
-----
The train, which was several hours late, slowly pulled into Crowe Station.
"Finally."
Eleazar stretched and got up to get his luggage.
Although there was a little mishap during the journey, it was good to arrive at the destination without any danger.
The time now is evening.
9:20 p.m. ...
Putting away his pocket watch, Eleazar walks out of the station.
Hometown town, the night can not have a big city's lively night market.
At this time, the sky is dark, the street lamp is slightly bright, silent everywhere, the dog barks in the distance, and there is not a single ghost on the street.
Carrying a suitcase, Eleazar slowly crosses the street.
A low gasp came from the alley beside him, causing him to frown.
As the magic potion was digested, his senses grew stronger and he was able to capture more and more information.
An actively developed brain could even analyze, with gasps, the angle at which the pair inside stood and the strength of each stroke.
It feels like the brain is contaminated...
Shrugging it off, Eleazar hurriedly picked up his pace and left the place.
After walking for nearly an hour, he returned to the shopping street.
The tailor's store across the street had its lights on.
Eleazar thinks about it and walks over to say hi.
In the window, Uncle Fioz, wearing a monocle, is carefully cutting a ghostly black and purple...
Eleazar's eyes glazed over!
That's magic fur!
As if sensing the sight outside, Fioz slowly raised his head.
"Eleazar?"
His face froze, then filled with delight as he quickly came over and opened the store door.
"What are you doing back here?"
"Hmm? Where's Fina!"
Eleazar smiled helplessly and explained, "Something came up at school, a week's vacation, and Fina was going to play over there, so I came back on my own."
"That little ninny... Why don't you take her back by force!"
Uncle Fioz grumbled in dissatisfaction, then added, "You just got off the bus didn't you, are you hungry, I'll go get you something to eat."
"Thanks, uncle, I ate in the car and I'm not hungry yet."
Eleazar hastily shrugged it off before pretending not to ask, "Are you still busy that late, uncle?"
Uncle Fioz froze and glanced back at the workbench.
"Oh... Yes, Sir William sent me a very valuable fur to make a scarf for his wife."
Sir William ...
Eleazar's eyes narrowed as he thought back to the nobleman who lived on the estate outside of town.
He then walked over and pretended to admire it for a moment, letting out an exclamation of admiration.
"Wow, it's really pretty, purple in black..."
"Hmm... Yeah..."
For some reason, Uncle Fioz sounded a little distracted.
Eleazar circled the table to take in the sights from all angles, elbowing his way into the oil lamp next to it.
The pungent kerosene instantly trickled across the table, soaking through the valuable fur, and then burned with a whimper at the point of the wick.
Uncle Fioz looked dumbfounded at once.
"Oh, wait, no!"
He rushed forward and slapped the flames with his hands.
And Eleazar stays motionless in his original position, as if stunned.