Lance found meaning in his actions, and his pace became firm.
His status was constantly rising with new developments, and his every move had a significant impact on the people around him.
He knew he couldn’t engage in activities like tonight’s in the future, at least not by involving others. If he were to do them, it would have to be in secret.
Collecting from the wealthy was incredibly lucrative. Dismas’s initial investigations had allowed him to know the area like the back of his hand. Coupled with the aid of Mesmerizing Fragrance, tonight’s operation had gone exceptionally smoothly, yielding a total of a million in loot. He had been forced to stop only when his Exhibition Room was nearly overflowing.
Once these Gold Coins were converted into resources for his territory’s development, he was confident he could compete with the Old Ancestor.
You have divine powers, old man, but I have firearms. Let’s see whether your bones are harder or the Bombs.
Eat my cluster of cannons!
With this thought, he quickened his pace, heading to the gang’s hideout to rescue everyone inside and bring them to the camp.
Upon returning to the camp, he found Tiffany still awake. She came out to greet him.
"Why aren’t you sleeping? What are you doing up?"
"The patrolling Guards caught someone," Tiffany said, her gaze involuntarily shifting to the women behind Lance, who were mostly quite attractive. What was this about?
"What’s so strange about that?"
Lance was unconcerned. Refugees frequently tried to sneak into the camp for a free ride, so catching one or two was nothing odd.
Otherwise, why would he have gone to such lengths? It was to motivate the Guards and energize the others.
Tiffany added with an odd expression, "I think you need to see this person. It took injuring two Guards to capture them."
"Oh! Then I really have to see this," Lance said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Who could make Tiffany act so oddly?
As soon as he entered the large tent, Lance was captivated by the scene inside.
A person clad in extremely odd attire was bound hand and foot and thrown on the ground.
Their clothing was unique: a dark, long dress, but not a loose style. It appeared more like a compact style modified for easy movement, complete with a hood with neck protection and even shoulder armor.
Their hands were covered in long leather gloves, the ends wound tightly with bandages against their arms, leaving no gaps. The leather boots they wore were treated the same way.
Most strikingly, they wore a meticulously sewn Beak Mask that enveloped their entire face. Connected to the hood, their whole body was tightly wrapped, with no part exposed.
Beside them lay a removed belt with an attached small satchel, from which various small bottles and jars were visible.
A flame-shaped Dagger lay tossed aside—apparently the weapon used to injure the Guards.
However, now that they were bound, they posed no great threat.
This strange ensemble instantly reminded Lance of the beak doctors from the Dark Middle Ages.
Curiosity flickered across Lance’s face as he strode forward to approach the person.
The stranger noticed Lance and began to move, but the bindings rendered their attempts futile.
Lance lifted the hood and removed the Beak Mask, revealing a quite delicate face beneath. Even in these circumstances, their demeanor remained calm, which spoke of an exceptionally rare composure.
"Who would have guessed it was a woman!" Tiffany exclaimed in surprise upon seeing this. She hadn’t expected the person who injured two Guards to be female.
Lance examined the woman. With the belt removed, the slight rise and fall of her chest was barely noticeable—a limitation of her physique.
But then again, Tiffany, you’re not one to talk.
Lance made an internal quip but didn’t show it, instead asking, "Why did you try to break into my camp?"
The woman remained silent, her expression stony, but her eyes inevitably betrayed a hint of panic.
When she didn’t speak, Lance paid it no mind. Instead, he picked up the pouch on her belt and began to rummage through its contents, finding some interesting items.
"These are tools used for dissection; are you a doctor?" Lance said, examining a leather wrap spread open in his hand, which secured several oddly shaped instruments within.
The woman didn’t respond until Lance sifted through the scattered papers in the bag. These papers detailed her dissections of corpses, from frogs, mice, and rabbits to... humans.
"You’ve been studying bodies?" Lance suddenly looked up and asked.
"It’s a scientific experiment!" the woman finally couldn’t help but retort, although she didn’t seem very confident.
"But where did you get these corpses for your research? Surely they can’t have been stolen~" Lance shook the experimental records in his hand. "If I’m not wrong, you heard there was chaos here and a lot of people died, so you came to steal corpses?"
With her cover blown, the woman’s expression changed significantly. She began to struggle frantically, but to no avail. The look on her face was no longer fear, but rather—desperation!
"Oh! Damn blasphemer~" Tiffany also showed disdain upon hearing this.
But Lance seemed quite unperturbed, showing no significant reaction to the revelation.
He knew why the woman was so agitated. Dissecting and studying the human body was not exactly mainstream; it was even considered quite unorthodox. In the eyes of ordinary people, she was a malicious Witch, deserving of the stake.