Side Wing Corridor.
Fran led the way with Davis following behind in an orderly manner.
In a normal state, this would have been a chilling, nerve-wracking nighttime stealth mission, with the "sound-chasing" Corruption monster roaming outside.
But now, that thing was being continuously beaten by the knight's armor, already having its hands full, probably with no energy left to pay attention to sounds elsewhere.
"Hmm..."
Fran made a slight sniffing motion, then turned her gaze to Davis behind her.
"Mr. Davis, do you smell that?"
"I do."
Davis's nostrils flared slightly. After Fran's reminder, he indeed caught a scent besides the decay's foul stench. The two intertwined, making it hard to distinguish for a moment.
"It seems like... the aroma of cooking food."
Fran nodded lightly, confirming his thought.
"'Food' is a broad term, not accurate enough. We can narrow the scope a bit. It should be the smell of cooking 'meat.'"
Davis's eyes narrowed slightly, his face paling a bit, as if recalling unpleasant memories from the Fenrir.
Only Krul's room door was currently open.
So... was he cooking meat?
---
Without a doubt, it was the smell of cooking meat.
And it was plain meat boiled in water, without any spices, broth, or seasonings. He had smelled it more than once on the Fenrir; that scent lingered in the ship's hold throughout the shipwreck period...
Due to the mind's self-protection mechanism, that memory had been buried deep in Davis's heart, nearly forgotten.
Now, smelling this almost enticing aroma, an indescribable "familiarity" was awakened within his body.
"Urgh..."
Davis covered his mouth and nose, his Adam's apple bobbing. He desperately suppressed the urge to vomit rising in his esophagus.
After leaving the Fenrir, he had gone a long time without wanting to see any meat. Later, although he could barely accept meat dishes, they had to be heavily seasoned or grilled, with not even a hint of fatty gaminess.
"Mr. Davis, do you need stomach medicine?"
Seeing Davis hunched over, the corner of his mouth twitching, Fran kindly took out a green capsule and a packet of glucose solution to aid swallowing.
"Thank you for your concern..."
Davis took the green capsule, placed it in his mouth, and washed it down with the glucose packet.
Although he knew the medicine wouldn't be digested and absorbed so quickly, after taking it, he indeed felt better, probably due to the placebo effect...
Come to think of it, even high-paying social elites found it difficult to receive Dr. Fran's personal treatment.
Who would have thought he'd receive such an honor in this eerie manor? One had to marvel at the unpredictability of fate.
"Haa."
Davis suppressed his panic and stomach discomfort, then focused his attention on Krul's room.
The door to this guest bedroom was wide open. The smell of cooking meat wafted out with the cold winter night's breeze.
A few points of clear yellow light could be seen through the door crack—not candlelight, but closer to the light from a stove.
As they gradually approached Krul's room, Davis felt a hot, dry wind blowing towards his face, almost like a heat current.
The feeling was like approaching a restaurant kitchen during the busiest dinner hour. But this was clearly a guest room, meant for guests to rest... Hanover Manor's design was very meticulous; the kitchen definitely wouldn't be placed in the side wing corridor.
"In other words, the 'influence' Krul experienced is related to this..."
Davis stopped before the room door. Just as he finally gathered the courage to investigate, he realized Fran had already walked in unnoticed.
"Wait for me, Dr. Fran!"
He immediately hurried in after her.
Although the situation inside the room was unclear, it was clearly more dangerous to stay alone in this dark, empty corridor.
Sometimes, Davis felt an inexplicable envy towards Fran... Why did this lady seem never to be afraid? She has clearly been transformed into this state, even slimmer than his little niece.
A moment after entering Krul's room, Davis couldn't help but frown.
...He heard singing.
"The Fenrir howls in the icy sea, people tremble in fear—the forge's ashes die and reignite—"
"Hull, keel, mast, my body born from these."
"Dominating the abyssal sea, overlooking the fjords."
"Corroding gold, drinking blood and bone! I am the storm and thundercloud, sweeping across the land—"
The song was deep and resonant, clearly from a man. Davis knew this even better; it was Krul's voice. He had heard them sing this sea shanty on the Fenrir.
But why was he singing at this hour? Wasn't he afraid of attracting "Corruption"... No, maybe he simply didn't know that thing existed.
Or perhaps the situation was worse.
It was long past time to rest. Given Krul's somewhat gloomy personality, it was hard to imagine him having the leisure to sing at night.
Davis was puzzled. He then looked towards the source of the sound while observing the entire guest room's layout.
This was a "kitchen."
And the floor and walls were all made of plank wood, with steel rivets embedded within. There were also small round portholes on both sides... Clearly, only a ship's galley would have this layout.
"Gurgle, gurgle..."
The bubbling sound of boiling meat soup rose from the stew pots, while the nearby oven glowed with red-hot charcoal light.
Entering the room, the smell of cooking food became more complex, no longer just plain boiled meat. Added were the scents of spices and certain fruits, along with the aroma of food roasting over charcoal.
"Welcome to dine, guests."
Just as Davis was still surveying the room's environment, Krul's song abruptly stopped, replaced by an almost sinister greeting.
A pool of sticky, crimson blood lay beneath him, and the wide-back kitchen knife in his hand still faintly showed pale pink meat residue.
The young folklorist was momentarily stunned. Just as he intended to give a simple response, Fran's voice quietly sounded beside him.
"Mmm." She nodded lightly, as if truly entering a restaurant, politely responding to the server's greeting.
"What's your signature dish here? Do you have a menu?"
As she spoke, Fran calmly walked to the square table in the middle of the room and gracefully took a seat.
"My apologies, no menu prepared..."
Krul, wearing a large chef's coat, gave a slight bow. Though his words seemed apologetic, one could vaguely see the corner of his mouth curved into a strange smile from the shadows.
"But we only serve set meals here. Even without a menu, it shouldn't be too troublesome."
"Thick soup with beef lung, chicken liver pâté, pan-fried beef liver with butter, roasted pork knuckle, cheese and fennel baked lamb brains, oh... and fresh lamb ribs..."
When discussing the dishes, his expression carried a hint of excitement. He listed numerous meat dishes one by one.
Hearing this, Fran nodded, like a diner waiting to order.
"One order of ribs and beef liver, please. Thank you."
"As you wish, honored guest."
Krul gave a sinister smile, his gaze almost intoxicated. After asking Fran, he slowly turned his gaze to Davis, who was sitting on pins and needles on a side chair.
"That lady has already placed her order. Now, this guest... what would you like?"
Hearing the names of those unsettling dishes, Davis felt dizzy.
He really wanted to gag, but the medicine he had taken earlier seemed to have some strong stabilizing effect, even suppressing abnormal movement in his esophagus.
Had Krul forgotten who he was? What exactly had happened to him?
And these meat dishes...
"Guest?" His silence seemed to displease Krul, who began to fidget, wiping the meat residue off the kitchen knife in his hand.
"Please... give me the same as the lady."
After some thought, Davis responded with difficulty.
Although he didn't know the deeper meaning behind Dr. Fran's choice of these two dishes, ordering the same was undoubtedly the safest option.
"Heh, alright. But sir, only daring to order after a lady does makes you seem less brave..."
"The meals will be ready soon. Please wait a moment."
The sinister smile on Krul's face faded slightly. He then slowly walked back to the stove.
While he was busy at the stove, Davis finally whispered to Fran.
"Dr. Fran, what should we do? Krul seems to have gone mad... He doesn't recognize me at all. And he really thinks he's a cook!"
Since the entire room was filled with the sounds of spatulas stirring and cooking, his voice wasn't noticeable. Only Fran, who was closer, could hear clearly.
"Mad?" Fran shook her head with a smile.
"Generally, madness only occurs in the living."
As she spoke, she raised her slender index finger, pointing towards a sticky trail of blood under the stove.
"You probably didn't notice... Krul's footsteps are unnaturally light."
Davis followed Fran's pointing finger and saw the blood seemed to be dripping from Krul himself. His once-white chef's coat was already soaked with crimson.
Madness generally only occurs in the "living"? Meaning Krul... was already dead?
And what did unnaturally light mean? Indeed, his gait was somewhat strange, almost stiff. He always stretched his right leg as if it weren't a leg but a wooden crutch.
Before he could start questioning further, he noticed Fran had already placed her index finger to her lips, making a soft "shh" sound.
Since preparations had already begun, Krul served the food very quickly.
Mere moments later, he brought the cooked dishes to the table. Moreover, the cutlery and plates used in this room were Hanover Manor's standard, even the warming cloche handles bearing exquisite gold carvings.
"Enjoy your meal."
Krul lifted the metal warming cloche from the plate and even thoughtfully prepared a napkin for Fran.
"This is Hanover Manor's 'extra service,' no additional charge. The guest's satisfaction is my greatest reward. There's just one requirement..."
He paused, then slowly finished his sentence.
"You must finish all the food on the plate. Otherwise, what happens... you probably don't want to know."
After saying this, Krul retreated near the stove. However, his gaze remained fixed on the two, seemingly very concerned about their dining progress.
Unfazed by his slightly threatening words, Fran merely examined the steaming dishes on the table with an appreciative eye.
"Whether to finish it all depends first on the dish's completion and quality."
The beef liver on the plate had been fried, making it hard to see its original appearance, but the slices were large, allowing a rough guess as to which species it came from.
Fran flipped it a few times with her silver fork, then reached a definite conclusion.
No suspense; it was human liver.
"Mr. Davis, do you know the difference between human liver and ruminant liver?"
Without tasting it, Fran first posed a question to Davis beside her.
"Ruminant? Hmm... you mean herbivores?" He was momentarily taken aback, then understood the doctor's meaning.
Davis was, after all, a graduate of Gulinse University. Even though the topic diverged from his specialty, faced with such basic common knowledge, he quickly caught on.
+++
T/N: Hey readers~! New Translator here! Before I say anything, I'd first like to thank the original author for creating this wonderful story. Without them, I wouldn't have the chance to share this adventure with you. I hope my translation does justice to their work, and that together, we can enjoy this story.
With that said, I'm happy to let you know I'll be uploading daily chapters. And for those who wish to support my work and gain early access, I've set up a Patreon where advanced chapters will be available.
[email protected]/PeakTL