Chapter 22: Doctor Nightingale (Patreon)

It has been several hours since completing the manual task. Presently, I am stealthy hiding within some hedges between where I planted the seed and a beautiful, exotic arched bridge. I would prefer to be a bit closer to the seed, but hereabouts is the nearest I was able to achieve. The other thickets in the area were all simply too sparse.

Picking up and absorbing a leaf, I receive the blue wall I have been waiting for.

‘Huzzah! Advanced my Orenda somehow, and the Naturalist skill. Unsinkable Constance, Unsquashable Roach, and the Black Witch of London, all titles I once held. If I can take advantage of these stats, skills, and adaptations, I can one day be the Formidable Constance… or more preferably the Leave Her Be Constance.’

I poke my head from the thicket. The sun has moved over the horizon. Icicles that hang from the branches of the trees drip, indicating their brief time in this world is soon to end. The wind whips up some loose snow, sprinkling it onto the Comrade Cracker membrane that covers my face. My gaze turns upward where I witness a hawk grab a pigeon in mid-flight. Though it is buried beneath this city’s hard gray stone, nature perseveres—predator and prey, the battle never ends.

Moving back into my humble abode, my hand shifts to my, quite literally, thin belly. ‘Now that I have achieved that, I shall sample the delicacies, I was able to salvage from that rubbish in those bins. Then I shall sit here for the day and see what information I may gather.’

My attention shifts to three items I was able to salvage from some blue containers in the courtyard. I scrutinize the items before eating them. Earl likely does not care about any of this, but he is all I have to speak to. Therefore, I pretend he actually does care whether or not he likes it.

‘Aye, Earl. First, this frail yellow and black thing, I do not know what it is, but I assume it is edible. Next, I have acquired this brown thing that I understand is some type of bread tied into a bow. Finally, I have a small piece of mystery meat that I believe is chicken.’

I place the three items in a row. ‘Now we shall compare this possibly edible yellow thing, with this perhaps bread thing, and this conceivably chicken thing. Aye, Earl, here I go!’

The yellow and black thing, which surprisingly dissolves into a white haze, making my body feel a bit bitter and sweet.

With its appearance, I read Earl’s wall. ‘Banana? And that was merely the peel? It was the first sweet thing I have tasted since I came here. Perhaps I may find the actual banana in the future.’

Taking the bread thing, it dissolves into a light brown haze with a bit of a briny feeling. A new purple wall appears.

‘A pretzel from a street stall? It was rather pleasant but not as good as the bread in London… but perhaps that is simply because of my new eating method. What confuses me is, was that white material salt? Something such as raw salt on the surface of bread? The people of this era truly are eccentric. Mayhaps this is simply a luxury among the wealthy who inhabit this area; how wasteful to just throw such a treat away. Well, I suppose that it is not surprising for the rich to be so wasteful. They have always been greedy. Worse yet are those wealthy French with their exorbitant gabelle. [1]’

Lastly, the chicken, the only one I am certain of. The tendrils drag the beef into the cattail, which promptly dissolves into a light red and white haze. It feels like what I would describe as savory but not as delicious as the rats or even the copepod throng.

‘Perhaps, I have merely been overthinking the flavors. Aye… certainly things such as rats and those copepod things cannot be more delicious than bread and beef. I believe that all these items are simply an acquired taste. Aye! Certainly!’

The last of the pale haze enters the kiln, and Earl’s wall appears.

‘What? That was beef?’ I shake my head dismissively. ‘There is nary a way that was beef... Let’s just not overthink it; it’s gone now. This must be Earl’s mistake; I refuse to believe anyone would throw away something as valuable as beef.’

With my tests complete, I analyze the results. ‘The most notable thing is that despite being a smaller piece than the peel or the pretzel, it lowered my Erysichthon more and gave me some Nebula. Also noteworthy is that the pretzel and peel had a “negligible” amount of essence while the meat was simply “less than one.”’

So it seems, for whatever reason, meat is more efficient than bread, plants, or fruit. As of now, that makes the order from least to greatest for Erysichthon raw plants, fruit, conventional foods, and meat or carcasses. I can probably further break that down in the future. However, I have gained more Vitrum from plants and more Nebula from meat.’

A high-pitched voice yells, causing me to dip low, “Mommy! Come on; I want to go sledding.”

Hearing the voice, I drop low within my hiding place. Gazing through a gap in the leaves, I notice a woman carrying a sled. Next to her, a child skips happily in the fresh snow.

‘This day is already proving itself fruitful! I have now confirmed that sleds still exist and that children still have mothers. If I wished to take it even further, I could say they even have fathers as well. However, I assume nothing when it comes to the absurd people who inhabit this mad city… That was a joke Earl, thou obviously do not understand quality sarcasm.’

The alleged mother and child proceed further down the path, but it seems their arrival is merely the first among many. People begin pouring into this forest, dozens or even hundreds of people meander throughout the area classified as my Domain.

My fingers grasp a small leaf, which I twist about my hand anxiously. ‘All these people make me feel… unsafe, I suppose? Or perhaps, vulnerable would be the correct word. I should pay it little mind, though, Earl said the seed is not so easy to discover.’

A man and woman walk into view. “Let’s stop here for a minute, babe; I want to check the news.”

The woman nods, and together they sit on the bench directly in front of me. I shift to their side, to listen and watch. This bench is simple, it sits next to one of the gray paths, facing the lake, and overlooking the bridge. It is convenient that they chose this bench as there are many more lined up in a row.

The man removes a black rectangle and hits it with his finger as if he is angry at it. While he does this, the woman acts as if this is nothing to concern herself with as she commences to speak of things I cannot fully understand.

“So, after all that, all we talked about, all he’s done, and all he’s said to her, she went on a date with him anyway. Like why did she even talk to me about it if she was already planning on doing it anyway.” The woman sighs, tosses her head back, and leans into the bench. She goes quiet, staring at the cloudy sky above. “Speaking of Jan, she was at the protests yesterday with him…. The protests seem to be getting more violent every day,” the woman says in a quiet voice.

“Mhm,” the man replies.

“Seems like everyone is protesting these days,” the woman says with downturned eyes, “We might actually go to war with China, y’know?”

Again the man answers simply, “Mhm.”

“...Honey.”

“What, April? Of course, I already know all this. I’m in the Air Force; how would I not know?” He holds up his black rectangle. “And what do you think I’m checking the news for anyway?”

“I-I know Steve, but… it’s scary. You only just got back from Anchorage,” she stutters, “A-and Anchorage is full of terrifying monsters a-and I don’t want to lose you. Then there is this weird weather and that polar vortex. The storms here are nothing compared to the ones in Anchorage!”

He sighs. “I wasn’t even in Anchorage very long, babe. Listen. I love you, but… there’s nothing I can do about it. If China really did release that virus on that cruise ship, then who knows what will happen.”

“Even with all the other stuff going on? Will we really go to war?” she pauses, glancing around as if checking if anyone is around. “You don’t think all the talk on the internet might be true? Even for a second? If we didn’t get in, it would mean we are…” The woman’s mouth opens and closes; she struggles to speak but forces it out, “...it means we’ve been essentially damned, Steve.”

His eye twitches, but only for a second as he crushes his emotions with a quick swallow of saliva. “... The President has already rebuked those rumors. All that stuff on the internet is just people who have gotten too caught up in fantasy. What happened in Anchorage is just a horrible virus.”

He goes back to tapping on his black rectangle, never looking up.

His eyes betrayed him in the beginning, however. Both the woman and I noticed the twitching and the swallow.

“But I’ve heard that people have seen others doing impossible things,” she says, clearly attempting to push him further. “Lots of people have joined up with those… religions.”

“...I-I don’t know, April…” He places the black rectangle into a pocket on his blue trousers. “Hey. Can we just enjoy our time in the park? Honestly, I don’t want to talk about this when I’m off duty.”

“Okay. As long as you promise that we’ll talk about it at some point. I know you’ll just try to put it off.”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “But sure. We’ll talk about it later.”

The woman becomes much more cheery. “Good,” she says, grabbing the man’s hand. “Now, let’s go see if the pretzel guy is here yet.”

“Babe, it’s like 9 AM after a snowstorm. The pretzel guy isn’t gonna be there.”

“Well, let’s at least check if anyone’s in the Terrace’s Arcade then!” she replies with a laugh.

The two disappear into the Terrace, entering the covered area.

‘Ah, so the covered area with the arches is called an ‘Arcade.’ All in all, that was a decent bit of information. It seems like England, or wherever this place is, might be going to war soon. Something happened in some place called Anchorage, and apparently, something called an Air Force exists now. I was also able to verify that this place is, indeed, a park. Although, that is information I likely would have discovered after these people left; when I could read the tablets nearby.’

A few more hours pass and nary anyone has sat at the bench I had strategically placed myself near. I have caught pieces of conversations here and there, but all I learned is that people curse much more nowadays.

Eventually, an older lady sits at the bench directly in front of me. The older lady takes out a brown bag and begins tossing seeds out onto the pavement. Almost instantly, dozens of pigeons descend and start eating the seeds.

She hums a tune while speaking to the bird, “Oh my, your feathers look nice and tidy today.”

The pigeons obviously do not answer, but the older woman keeps complimenting them.

‘She must be a delightful woman. A pity she has to live in such a mad world.’

The woman tosses a particularly large handful of black seed to the ground causing the pigeons to scatter. One pigeon moves under the bench to get some of the stray seeds.

‘That… that pigeon. It looks rather delicious.’

I glance at my Erysichthon value that’s currently at ‘45’.

‘That snowstorm really raised my Erysichthon value. Perhaps, I could just…’

Slowly I unravel the cattail and stick it out of the bush, but stop when the pigeon turns to look at the cattail. It tilts its head and watches it for a moment before the old lady tosses more bread, and it loses interest. The cattail again slithers a bit closer. The pigeon again stops but loses interest when it sees the others eating all the black seed.

‘Come hither, little one. Constance is tired of always being hungry… Something is most certainly wrong with me.’

The tendrils unravel, preparing to embrace the pigeon. Now divided, the tendrils twitch in anticipation as one of the tendrils silently encircles one of the pigeon’s legs. The pigeon chirps, flapping its wings to escape. Yet it is far too late as the tendrils close and latch onto its leg and yanks it into the hedges. Hoisting the pigeon, I thump it against a rock killing it. The cattail pulls it into itself, and the pigeon starts to swiftly turn to a gray and red haze.

“What was that? Hmm, I seem to be missing one of the gals? Is that raccoon back?” the old lady says.

The old lady stands and peers into the bushes as a rich taste fills me.

I ignore Earl’s purple wall and lie flat. The old lady attempts to get to her knees to inspect the hedges, but she stops, pressing her palm against her lower back.

“Darn it. I’ll get that raccoon someday. I’ll have to file another complaint about those raccoons! Not that anyone will ever do anything about it.” She stands and snaps her fingers together. “Stupid thing is always attacking the gals.”

For a while, I enjoy the flavor and relief of not being caught. The old lady departs, and a few more hours pass without anyone sitting at the beach. Meanwhile, I simply scout in my small area of bushes listening in on conversations.

This allows me only to catch tiny slivers of discussions, which included things like:

“Are you going to the protests later this week?”
“How long have you been in the states?”
“Yeah, dude, I always study at the café next to the boathouse.”
“I heard one of the families is having nuptials at the boathouse sometime in the next few days. Wonder if the Esposito’s will play nice and invite their rival.”

Yet, although I never received any substantial information, those four sentences seemed particularly interesting. However, eventually, the snowstorm grew more violent, and nearly everyone departed.

Still, the conversation involving the person named “Dude” about the place called “boathouse” and “café” intrigues me.

‘If I can find somewhere to hide at this “boathouse” and “café,” I might find an opportunity to “acquire” a book from one of the wealthy college nobles studying there. Hmm, also, I need to work to increase my ‘Naturalist’ skill rank. If I received it from simply watching the elderly rats, does that mean I may increase it by watching other animals?’

Split between advancing my skills and moving to this “café,” I spend some time musing between my options as the sky darkens and the snow starts to fall once again. This musing of skill and studying causes me to recall my experiences practicing my medicines.

‘I have a brilliant idea, could I perhaps improve both of my skills and conceivably even acquire a new one at the same time? Aye, what I am considering may seem a bit… morally questionable, but this will be my best opportunity.’

I rub my hands together, creating nary a noise nor heat while I scan the area carefully. ‘I hear a raccoon inhabits this area.’

……

……

‘Well, at least that is something. It will help with my spying, I think.’

It is nighttime, and I am a bit frustrated with my lack of progress in advancing the Naturalist skill and finding the rumored raccoons. I hear movement nearby. Looking toward the tree, I see two furry creatures scurrying about.

‘Oh, so it seems there are two raccoons. Perhaps, I can assist the old lady with her raccoon problem as payment for eating one of her “gals” as she termed them.’

Spreading the tendrils, I slither the cattail along the ground and toward the trees as quietly as I can. The two raccoons seem to be fighting over a dead pigeon.

‘Are these raccoons feral? Why are they so obsessed with pigeon meat? Regardless, for one of them, this shall be their final day. I cannot use my normal method, or I will damage the body. Still, I will try to use what I learned from my Novice whip skill to make it as quick and painless as possible.’

I flatten the cattail’s tendrils. The two utterly ignore me, but in order to make my attempt, I need them to be facing me. Therefore, I use my hand to shake the bushes. Immediately the one releases the pigeon corpse, spinning around with a hiss. With an opening, I allow the cattail to fire toward its eyes. It attempts to flee, but it is too slow. The tendrils snake its way into its socket and into his skull, where the tendrils immediately end the poor creature’s life.

The other raccoon hisses and leaps away, the pigeon corpse still in tow.

A blue wall appears, obstructing my vision. ‘An unexpected boon! Stealth! I am surprised I did not receive this sooner, but perhaps it is because I was not actually sneaking up on the rats. They merely did not see me as a threat. Regardless, I shall accept this skill with grace. Thank thee, Cosmic System!’

Studying the three choices, I consider each of them.

‘Hmm, although Concealment seems better for my current situation, I would guess Stealth would be much better in the long term. Secrecy is similar as well. I believe it would be better now, but it may not be as good later.’ I pause reading through the choices once more. ‘Aye, I believe I shall select Stealth. Perhaps I shall fancy something more specialized later.’

With the Cosmic System’s acknowledgment, I shove the wall away and return my attention to the raccoon's carcass. ‘Now it is time for Doctor Nightingale to make her debut.’

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[1.] The gabelle was a very unpopular tax on salt in France that was established during the mid-14th century and lasted, with brief lapses and revisions, until 1946.

**Constance Hiding Spot Behind Benches**