-26- Are you satisfied?

Due to the high-magic environment of the ancient civilization era and the coincidental presence of "dragons" in both worlds, Yvette felt a flicker of suspicion regarding the Radiant Continent where Rosalind originated. However, this doubt was quickly dismissed—if that were truly the case, the origin of the initial aberrations remained an unsolvable enigma.

In the following days, Yvette did not continue to delve into the free mythological and historical research materials. For one, the data was vast as an ocean and impossible to finish; for another, her curiosity about the root of the primordial civilization's apocalypse was not so intense that she felt compelled to uncover the ultimate truth.

By comparison, she preferred observing Dr. Reger’s clinical procedures, playing the role of a "young" intern—after all, the fees had already been paid in advance.

These days continued for some time. Thanks to the rumor that "Hoffman’s Clinic has a super pretty silver-haired, red-eyed girl," the number of patients grew much higher than before, often forming a queue at the door. This left the Hoffmans exhausted yet happy, as they seemed to be paying off their children’s tuition loans much faster.

However, after about a month, this routine came to an abrupt end.

That morning, with the arrival of three police officers, a bolt from the blue shattered the peace of the Hoffman family: someone had reported Reger Hoffman for practicing medicine without a license, and the police were there to take him in for questioning. By evening, when Hans and Mary returned from school and learned the news, the entire household was plunged into immense grief and despair.

"How could this happen..." Rosalind stood lost after returning home from next door. The event had been so sudden, leaving no room for preparation. Yesterday, she had been chatting and playing with Hans and Mary, enjoying dinner with Reger and Mrs. Susan; today, that life was over. With the family's pillar gone, Mrs. Susan could not possibly manage the expensive tuition loans alone. At best, Hans and Mary would have to transfer to a mediocre middle school, or perhaps drop out entirely to work.

*You never know whether tomorrow or an accident will arrive first...* Yvette thought, choosing not to respond to her apprentice’s distress. She was powerless to help. If Mr. Reger had been framed, it would be one thing, but the accusations were true—and beyond that, he had a more dangerous history of purchasing and studying pirated rune knowledge. With such compounding charges, without a massive sum of money, he faced at least ten years in prison. That decade would be enough to make Hans and Mary miss the most critical stages of their lives, forever cutting off their chances of breaking through their class status and leaving them to sink into the Blackwater District forever.

"Teacher, is there any way we can help them?" Rosalind pleaded, unable to watch her only two friends fall into such a vortex of misery.

"It’s difficult. While not entirely impossible, it is..." Yvette said, "unnecessary, because this is merely a dream."

She was blunt, and the truth was exactly that. While money could bail Reger out, she did not know when the dream might suddenly end. She could not use the funds she needed for critical research on something like this; it would be too extravagant.

"Ah, right, it’s a dream..." Rosalind paused, finally remembering that she was not in the real world, but in a dream existing in a past timeline. No matter what she did in the dream, she could not change the established facts of the past. She fell silent, no longer making unreasonable requests, but kept her head bowed, unable to shake her despondency.

The following afternoon, standing in the corridor of the 18th floor of the Wright Apartments, Rosalind saw Hans and Mary numbly carrying cardboard boxes out of their home and placing them onto a small cart outside. She walked over and asked, "Where are you going?"

"Mom talked to the apartment manager. We’re moving to an empty room fifteen floors down; it’ll save us a bit on rent..." Mary said in a low voice. Looking at her red-rimmed eyes, she must have cried many times since the night before.

"So... don't worry, we're still in the same apartment building," Hans added, attempting to comfort her with a smile that looked worse than tears.

Rosalind didn't know how to respond, so she simply helped them move their belongings. While doing so, she suddenly remembered something and lowered her voice: "That... have you thought about... who... reported him?"

"I don't know. The reporter was anonymous. And now..." Hans sighed, his expression filled with fatigue and helplessness. "What’s the point of finding out who it was?"

Rosalind said nothing more. She knew that finding the whistleblower now was useless; it was all too late. It was essentially an emotional impulse. She was curious whether the reporter understood the consequences of their small act, or if they would feel any regret for what they had done.

A week passed. As the last patient left with a sigh, the electronic sign symbolizing "Hoffman’s Clinic" flickered out for the last time. The small clinic that had quietly shone was officially declared closed, carrying the bleakness of a funeral. The news spread quickly through the district, and many were shocked to realize for the first time that the skilled and affordable Dr. Hoffman did not have a medical license. Yet, due to his reputation, many still expressed their condolences to the family, with some even bringing gifts.

Another week passed. Unable to afford a lawyer, Reger stood trial. Perhaps due to his good attitude or the sympathy his reputation had won from the jury, he received a relatively light sentence—reduced from an expected ten years to six. It was still a lot, but it was the best of a bad situation.

On the night he returned after the sentencing, Rosalind learned from Hans and Mary that they had applied for a transfer. Unable to afford the elite Black Tower Middle School, they were moving to Blackwater Middle School, a third-rate institution. Mrs. Susan, meanwhile, set up a roadside stall on a noisy, dirty street corner, selling simple food to make ends meet and pay off the high interest on their loans.

This was the first time Rosalind had so clearly witnessed the destruction of a family. In her eyes, the Hoffmans had done nothing wrong; they were good people. Mr. Reger, though unlicensed, was genuinely skilled, saving patient after patient with low fees. He deserved flowers, not handcuffs. Yet, a single anonymous report had destroyed them, and it was all perfectly "legal and compliant." It was completely irrational, defying her imagination of the primordial civilization as an advanced, beautiful, and prosperous world.

"Teacher," Rosalind said, standing before the window of Room 1809, looking down at Mrs. Susan’s hunched figure working at her stall. Her voice was low, filled with deep confusion. "Why is it like this?"

"That is how the world is," Yvette said without looking up. "You just didn't see the full picture at the start."

Rosalind fell silent. As a twelve-year-old girl from a backward civilization, her beautiful fantasies about the primordial civilization had been incredibly resilient—so resilient that even seeing gang shootouts hadn't shattered her filter. But now, she had to admit, she felt a trace of disgust toward this world.

"Gronie Clinic," Yvette said, looking at the holographic screen.

"What, Teacher?" Rosalind hadn't heard clearly.

"Gronie Clinic. The lead physician is Goss Gronie, the sender of the anonymous report. If you want to know his thoughts, you can go ask him now," Yvette said, her eyes cast downward.

...

The night grew deeper, and a bone-chilling autumn rain began to fall from the pitch-black sky. At first, it was a fine, silent mist, but it soon turned into a rhythmic patter, drumming against the metal exterior and the cold glass curtain walls. Under the dim streetlights, it wove a curtain of pale silver light.

There were few people in the clinic on a rainy night; only Goss Gronie sat behind the counter. He was a man in his thirties, legs propped on the desk, idly scrolling through videos on a holographic display. Not until Rosalind pushed open the door did he lower his feet and ask, "Little girl, here for medicine or a consultation?"

"Are you Dr. Goss?"

"Yes, do you know me?" A smile appeared on Goss's face.

"No. I just want to ask you why you reported Mr. Hoffman," Rosalind said, getting straight to the point.

The smile vanished from Goss’s face, replaced by shock and vigilance. He stood up from his chair and said coldly, "What report? What are you babbling about! ...Who told you that? Did those poor wretches from the Hoffman family send you to cause trouble?"

"I know it was you. I just want to know why you did it." Rosalind looked up at him, and though she was small and slender, she did not appear weak.

"Why I did it?" Goss sneered. After thinking for a moment, he replied, "Because of justice, of course."

"Justice?" Rosalind stared at him, incredulous, feeling an unspeakable absurdity.

"An unlicensed fraudster, deceiving people under the guise of being a doctor! I stopped him. If that isn't justice, what is?"

"Shameless wretch! You’re lying! You were just jealous that Mr. Hoffman’s business was better than yours and his reputation was better!" Rosalind gritted her teeth. She had figured it out on the way, but she wanted to hear him admit it.

The rain outside intensified, and lightning flashed in the dark clouds. A look of contempt appeared on Goss’s face. "Even if you say that, I still did it for justice."

He then looked at the girl’s angry eyes and continued, "If this wasn't justice, why was my report accepted? Why were the police able to arrest him ‘legally and compliantly’? Why did a solemn national court judge him guilty based on conclusive evidence?"

"That’s only because... because..." For a twelve-year-old, clearing up the logic and launching a counterattack in an instant was too difficult. Rosalind instinctively felt he was using sophistry, but she couldn't pinpoint the flaw.

"So, the answer is clear: Reger Hoffman is a wicked criminal, and his wife and children are accomplices who profited from his crimes." Goss shook his head, silently using his cybernetic implant to command the shop's defense protocols to activate.

"They aren't! And you only reported him to steal his customers and make money!"

"What’s wrong with wanting money? A talentless fraudster belongs in jail. I’m doing a service to society while making a little extra cash—is that a crime?" He said dismissively. "From start to finish, this is a simple matter. Black is black, and white is white. And you, little girl, what is it you want me to tell you? What exactly do you want to hear?"

"You..."

"And even if I said what you wanted to hear, so what? He’s the one who pleaded guilty in court, not me. If you’re so capable, report me too, but I actually have a medical license."

Hearing this, Rosalind finally fell silent. Her fists clenched and unclenched several times; she nearly lost control and unleashed a magical spell. She couldn't believe a person could be this shameless, making her want to purge him like a demon on the spot, lest she feel like she herself was becoming corrupted.

*Don’t act, Rosalind, you can't act... think of Teacher’s advice, consider the consequences...* She took a deep breath, her pupils trembling. She suppressed her emotions, turned around, and walked toward the door under Goss's mocking gaze, looking like a defeated, bedraggled puppy.

Outside, the rain poured down, and the world seemed soaked in a cold, inverted black sea. As she stepped out of the clinic, the cold, damp air rushed toward her, bringing a moment of clarity.

Then, her gaze pierced through the dense rain and caught an unexpected figure—her teacher.

Yvette stood a few meters away, dressed in a black gown, holding a black umbrella. She stood alone on the sidewalk, maintaining a perfect distance from the chaotic rain, like a deity detached from the world. Seeing Rosalind’s dazed expression, her cold lips curled upward—a rare, slow movement.

"Teacher, I’m sorry, I..." Rosalind walked over through the rain, hanging her head in shame.

But Yvette had no intention of scolding her.

"Just now, you restrained your impulse and didn't tear down his shop. Your teacher is very pleased," she said, holding the umbrella over her student’s head with a gentle tone. "As a reward, I have reported Goss. Are you satisfied?"