Lyle regained consciousness in the early morning of the next day, as the dawn began to color the clouds.
Hunger awakened his instinct to search for food, and Lyle could only muster his energy and begin to wash up.
Lyle's sleep had been far from adequate; he disinfected his Plague Doctor uniform and then carefully verified his correspondence.
Once a person settles down, their mind starts to wander.
The moving corpse was clearly a supernatural phenomenon. Does this mean that magic is also within the scope of Andrei Academy's curriculum?
The hostile behavior of yesterday's corpse also dispelled the image of Andrei Academy as an evil organization in Lyle's heart.
If the corpse had been a creation of the Academy, then no wise person would allow any act of hostility towards their own invitee; leaving a good first impression is almost an instinct.
Therefore, apart from giving Lyle a scare, the corpse also cleared Andrei Academy's name.
Perhaps the people at the Academy were shrewd thinkers, skilled in using everything they knew, good or bad, to achieve their goals while leaving as little trace of themselves as possible. Considering the emphasis on secrecy in the letter, it wasn't hard to judge that the Academy had a conservative stance towards the outside world.
In the end, these were just Lyle's personal perceptions. If he thought it was bad, it was the schemer behind the scenes; if he thought it was good, it was a world-weary hermit.
Mocking his own double standards, Lyle began to make a fire and prepare to cook.
Knock knock.
Someone knocked on the door.
It was probably Ralph. At this time, it meant the night patrol had ended, and considering the bizarre incident that had occurred at Lyle's place last night, for him to visit so late was actually surprising.
After opening the door, it was indeed that man standing outside.
Still stooped, with a zombie-like face, the fatigue of staying up all night didn't show on his face, although the dark circles under his eyes might have deepened a bit.
In his hand, he held an oilcloth bundle. He walked straight to Lyle's table, placed the bundle on it, and from the corner that peeked out, it was possible to see ingredients like potatoes and carrots.
"I saw some cheap vegetables at the market, got them for you," he said.
"Hmm," Lyle would feel gratitude but wouldn't express it verbally; Ralph's help to him wasn't something that a simple 'thank you' could summarize. And besides, he himself didn't need it. Between family, no thanks were needed.
"Stay for a meal, Uncle."
"No, after a whole night patrolling, I just want to go back to sleep."
"Then let me make you some soup, just to have a little, to help you sleep."
"...Alright."
Lyle began to busily work at the stove.
Ralph sat in a chair, occasionally handing ingredients to Lyle to save him from running back and forth between the hearth and the table.
"I heard about last night; you completed your work, congratulations, rookie."
"I guessed as much. When Mr. Jordan asked me to come back, I knew I had passed."
That was a lie.
One of the biggest reasons for Lyle's insomnia the previous night had been his speculation about the results of his work. Logically speaking, he hadn't determined the cause of death, but last night's events defied logic. Moreover, Wilt's words and actions had not shown any dissatisfaction.
"You didn't tell me Gilbert Wilt was your archenemy."
"We just have differing opinions."
"Can I take this as a test? Alone, performing an autopsy, and in the end facing an uncanny test."
"I guessed Wilt would neglect his duties, not do as I'd suggested. That part was one of my expectations for you; standing alone in a dark corner facing a corpse, I wanted to see that calm and composure."
"But I hadn't expected, on your first job, you'd encounter a 'special event'."
"Isn't that quite common?"
"Special events happen about two to three times a year, though rare, they are indeed memorable."
Lyle stirred the soup vigorously, so had he drawn a special prize? First he witnessed the saint light, then the weird occurrences. Lyle touched the letter in his pocket, anticipating the possibility of encountering even more in the future.
Mysteries followed one after another.
"By the way, I have something to show you." Lyle took out the letter from his pocket. He had kept the envelope, and the dark blue wax seal on it was the sigil of the academy. Lyle had a premonition that the seal was more important than the content of the letter itself.
The sigil's plant was nightshade, a plant with anesthetic and blood pressure lowering properties but fatal in large doses.
To the layperson, nightshade had a more notorious name, Deathly Flower. It only grew in cemeteries, portending ill omens and bad luck.
Deep down, Lyle yearned to study at Andrei Academy. Ralph was his family, and he was willing to discuss with Ralph this choice that could be deemed rebellious in this era, but he would filter the contents of their conversation.
Ralph took the letter from Lyle's hand and looked at the paper, front and back, glancing a few times, then stared at Lyle until he started to sweat coldly before shifting his gaze away.
Lyle felt that the look carried scrutiny, like a child expecting his parents to buy him a toy. He tentatively continued, "What do you think?"
"Hmm... the paper is quite nice, good quality indeed."
"???" Lyle felt like his anxiety was being performed to a blind audience. When did Ralph become a master of deadpan humor?
"I mean the content! The content!"
"Content?" Ralph looked again at the letter, "Isn't this just a blank piece of paper?"
What? Lyle glanced at the letter, where black text was stark against the white, conspicuous in Ralph's hands like ants on honey.
The words were there, but Ralph couldn't see them?
Ralph wasn't one for jokes, which meant that the letter chose its readers. Lyle's reverence for the mystical forces grew deeper.
"There are words on this paper? Is this another text game? What invisible ink tricks have you been playing with?"
"Ah haha, you got me." Lyle chuckled awkwardly, taking the letter back from a perplexed Ralph and carefully returned it to his pocket. Since Ralph had not noticed, it was perhaps better not to tell him.
Lyle didn't feel brave enough to tell Ralph the truth again.
Andrei Academy was the path he was to take, a path only visible to him.
"Alright, the soup is ready."
Lyle ladled out a bowl of steaming hot vegetable soup and handed it to Ralph.
It seemed tasty; Lyle even noticed Ralph's furrowed brow relax for a moment.
After placing the clean bowl on the table, Ralph stood up, straightened his clothes, and donned his top hat.
"The body from last night was dealt with; the church took care of it. The one you dissected, according to them, seems to have been a newly-born Lich. Don't be too surprised, weird entities are not so terrifying as long as you keep a distance and consult with professionals when necessary. I've spoken with my superior and got you some leave to adjust your mindset. The day after tomorrow, you can start working at the office officially."
"I understand."
Not so terrifying?
You can't even understand a single piece of paper.
After seeing Ralph off, Lyle looked again at the letter.
Seventh Street, number thirteen, huh?
He must go and see for himself; Lyle didn't want to experience that detached sensation Ralph had, as if a treasure was slipping away right before his eyes.
What are you really like?
Andrei Academy.