Vid leaned in a bit closer, his fingertips brushing over the edge of the scratches, using his knuckles to measure the distance between the marks.
"Werewolf." He said softly, with certainty in his voice.
"We also found this."
The hoodie-wearing young man walked over, holding a slender glass bottle, containing some gray-green powder scraped from the floor crevices, along with several strands of hair.
"I've compared data from over a hundred types of Alchemy Materials, and I can roughly conclude that these things likely come from a Troll... Hmm, the probability is over seventy percent, right?"
"Werewolves... and Trolls?"
Vid murmured softly, revealing a faint smile: "I have a very interesting association."
At this moment, the three Poppets in the room simultaneously showed similar smiles.
"Very interesting indeed."
The truck driver took off his hat, casually dusting off the dirt:
"If this conjecture is true, then I can't wait to meet the mastermind behind the Scourers."
"But they've been hiding for so many years, it's not that easy to find them." Victor said, "We still need to be cautious, we can't rule out other possibilities."
The hoodie-wearing man nodded, saying, "For instance... they might also be connected to that organization that used to try to mass-produce Werewolves and Vampires, even incorporating Trolls into the experiments."
Victor said, "Isn't Cornelius replicating that kind of hormone? The one that can induce a Werewolf's transformation without the full moon. I wonder if they've developed an inhibitor; if they have, it might be useful this time."
The Poppets chattered away, and everything they said actually reflected Vid's thoughts.
Thus, Vid remained silent as ever, contemplating while continuing to observe other parts of the base.
Suddenly, Vid's steps paused slightly.
He saw an exceptionally spacious room, the only furniture being a shelf in the corner, messily covered with several rolls of bandages and bottles containing various potions, emitting a faint glow under the dim light.
The floor inside the room was covered with thick pads, their color dark and the edges severely worn, with some parts even exposing the dull yellow core beneath, while the surface was filled with unrecoverable dents and long-standing traces of footsteps. Upon closer inspection, brown bloodstains that couldn't be washed away were visible in some areas.
In a flash, Vid seemed to have a vision from more than two years ago; pushing open the door, stepping into the classroom transformed by Professor Abigail for Defense Against the Dark Arts for the first time.
That time... his heart was full of youthful defiance, ending up being beaten rather badly.
Driven by some mysterious impulse, Vid took a step, entering the empty room, with his footsteps absorbed by the thick material, landing silently.
His gaze swept over the shelf in the corner, his breath catching: Even the casual placement of potions and bandages carried a faint sense of familiarity.
Vid walked to the cabinet, extended his hand to feel the depths of the cabinet, and when he drew it back, there was a bottle of expired Scar Remover in his hand.
In his ear seemed to echo Professor Abigail's merry voice:
"Scars are the badge of courage! But if there's a young lady worried about disfigurement, crying about it, I can't stand that! Hiding the Scar Remover here, those who need it will naturally find it."
Vid turned around, his gaze slowly sweeping across the floor.
On the pads, those repeatedly rubbed marks outlined clear movement tracks:
Some were from frequent practice of rolling to dodge; some from standing for long periods; some represented thousands of push-ups, and others were from intense combats where neither side would back down, even breaking the pad directly;
He could almost imagine how those who worked here tossed, maneuvered, refining their skills day after day;
And the person training them, spoke sharply and sternly during practice, yet would show warmth and carefree after.
The Poppets who originally followed behind him seemed to sense some extraordinary aura, remaining by the doorway, refraining from rashly talking to Vid.
The hoodie-wearing man whispered, "What do you think... the master is thinking right now?"
"Certainly it involves a kind of communication with the residual magnetic field in the room that normal people can't understand."
Victor said deeply, "He's decoding a terrifying truth from these silent traces that we haven't noticed. No wonder he's my creator! Sometimes even I can't fathom his thoughts!"
The truck driver stroked his chin, muttering, "I actually think... the master probably has had some ominous association..."
The other two immediately glared at him.
——Everyone's having a nice chat, why did you blatantly say the truth out of the blue?
Suddenly, all the Poppets felt a chill run down their spines.
They turned their heads together, seeing Vid eerily staring at them, with an unfriendly look.
Just then, Vilan, dressed like a repairman, known for causing people to doubt life with an electric drill emerging from his palm, walked briskly in from outside.
"Master, the intelligence has had a recent update!"
Vilan said seriously, "We found new Werewolf claw prints a kilometer away from this textile factory!"
"What?" Victor shouted, "Did they find a new base? I'll go check right away!"
He ran out like the wind, leaving the hoodie-wearing man and the truck driver staring at his back in a daze.
Vilan was also a bit bewildered, saying, "I haven't finished speaking yet! What's this guy in such a hurry for?"