Our Family Has Fallen

”The original purpose of building the bathhouse was to improve the hygiene of Hamlet’s residents and enhance the comfort of living in the town. That’s why the regulations for its use clearly state that before enjoying any mixed services, you must use an herbal cleanser for a thorough individual shower to prevent cross-infection.”

”Were these rules also set by him?” Paracelsus actually snorted unconsciously, a rare moment of complaint from her.

No one knew Lance’s methods better than she did, as the sanatorium was the first place to implement these management regulations.

”Exactly.” Grendel’s smile widened upon seeing her reaction, and she nodded in agreement.

If anything Lance brought to Hamlet could be considered truly important, it wasn’t the various strange innovations, but rather two words: rules. Hamlet’s high efficiency didn’t come merely from throwing money at problems; it stemmed from the framework Lance had meticulously built, a system far superior to the corrupt institutions of this era. The previously chaotic system and its ill-defined responsibilities were standardized and constrained by the various regulations, provisions, and criteria he established. Everything was done with a clear basis for action. Everyone could find their place, knowing precisely what they needed to do, what they didn’t need to do, and what they absolutely could not do.

After completing her cleansing, Paracelsus felt more accustomed to the environment. She changed her clothes and stepped out.

She raised a hand to her nose and sniffed, a look of slight surprise appearing on her face.

Considering she often dealt with corpses and similar things, no matter how much she washed before, a strange odor always lingered. The Lord had even teased her about it, saying she was ’marinated in the smell.’ Even that white wolf, Wang Cai, showed an inexplicable hostility toward her. But now, that odor was truly gone, replaced by a faint scent of fresh grass. These herbal concoctions are truly miraculous!

Just then, Grendel also emerged from her shower. Even though she came from the Mountain Barbarian Tribe, she hadn’t been influenced by the Church’s restrictive doctrines. In this women-only space, such matters were treated more casually. She simply wrapped herself in a bath towel and walked out, yet she exuded an air of natural elegance.

Grendel’s thick, wet green hair was casually draped over her shoulders. Her face, flushed from the warm water, looked exquisitely lovely.

Even Paracelsus, herself a woman, couldn’t help but stare. I’ve never paid attention to these things before... She’s actually so beautiful...

”What’s wrong?” Grendel found Paracelsus’s reaction curious and turned to look at her.

But this glance also filled Grendel with surprise, and she couldn’t help but exclaim, ”Doctor, your skin is so fair!”

Perhaps it was because she was always well-covered, unexposed to sunlight or the elements, but her legs were as white and smooth as jade. Or maybe she just had a naturally fair complexion. When she shed her heavy attire for loose clothing, the sight of her was truly striking. In this era, it was no exaggeration to say that fair skin signified nobility; only those who didn’t need to work and were constantly waited upon could maintain such a complexion.

It was quite strange, though. Paracelsus was no delicate young lady; she was the daring sort who would steal corpses in the middle of the night. Such fairness could only be attributed to good genes.

”Is it...?” Paracelsus felt somewhat nervous under Grendel’s gaze and words.

She was usually dressed so conservatively; suddenly appearing before someone in a bath towel that only reached mid-thigh felt incredibly strange.

Grendel, noticing her fidgety demeanor, didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she proactively changed the subject to save Paracelsus from further embarrassment.

”Give your clothes to them. There’s a laundry room here; the warm air from the boiler will dry them quickly, so don’t worry.”

Grendel stepped forward, took the discarded clothes, and handed them to a nearby staff member, not forgetting to add an instruction, ”These clothes are special. Don’t mix them with others—wash them separately with the medicinal powder I’ve left here.”

According to the bathhouse’s hygiene and safety guidelines, all used clothing and tools had to be washed and then sterilized by boiling in hot water. Furthermore, as per the laboratory guidelines set by Lance, nothing from the dissection room could be removed without prior disinfection. This set of clothes, however, was a bit problematic...

Grendel, who had taken over administrative affairs, was well aware of these regulations. But since she was only managing things in an interim capacity, she couldn’t say much and could only arrange for the clothes to be handled appropriately.

Truthfully, if one were to be meticulous, the staff here shouldn’t be washing Paracelsus’s clothes. However, the bathhouse was one of the projects Grendel had taken charge of after its completion, and she had assembled the staff. That was why she was familiar with the place and could direct these workers. Strictly speaking, it was a slight overreach of authority. But wherever humans exist, privilege exists. No one would scrutinize such matters too closely, for that is the way of society.

So Grendel pulled Paracelsus along, continuing to explain the layout of the bathhouse and the purpose of its different areas.

”This is the hot spring area. There’s a public section and also private rooms; the only difference is the price,” Grendel said with a smile, finally revealing her plan. ”I’ve prepared a medicinal bath that can reduce fatigue and relax the body. I thought it would be perfect to have everyone try it out. Boudica and the others are already here.”

Upon hearing that other people were present, Paracelsus’s social anxiety immediately flared up, and an instinctive reluctance washed over her.

But they had already arrived. Grendel, still holding onto Paracelsus, pushed the door open and led her inside.

They weren’t using the public pool, of course, but a relatively private room partitioned off by wooden walls. The space wasn’t large and could be taken in at a glance. It was essentially a well-built square pool, spacious enough to comfortably accommodate five or six people.

The pool was currently filled with light green water, with scattered petals floating on its surface. The summer heat hadn’t subsided much even at night, so there wasn’t a thick fog of steam, only delicate wisps rising from the water, dissipating almost instantly.

Three people were already soaking in the pool: Boudica, Tiffany, and Catherine.

I recognize them, Paracelsus thought, but only in passing. I haven’t had much interaction with them. Especially that Catherine... I barely remember her. We’ve probably exchanged fewer than five sentences.

”What took you so long?” Boudica’s voice rang out the moment they pushed the door open. She sounded rather languid, having turned over to drape herself over the pool’s edge, her arms resting outside the water.

”How is it? The effects should be pretty good, right?” Grendel didn’t directly address their lateness—which was due to her fetching Paracelsus—but instead smoothly posed a question as she confidently let her towel fall and slipped into the water.

Paracelsus caught a glimpse of an elegant curve before it was obscured by the surface. But the light green medicinal water couldn’t completely hide her figure; I can still see its almost perfect form, which adds a certain hazy beauty.

”The water temperature is just right. Doctor, come on in,” Grendel invited, clearly not having forgotten about Paracelsus.

Seeing everyone else so at ease, Paracelsus hesitated only briefly before shedding her towel and joining them.

As the water rose to her neck, her entire body was enveloped by the warm, medicinal liquid. The sensation was indeed instantly relaxing. My muscles feel like they’re sighing in relief, and the tension from work is just melting away. Now I understand why Boudica looked so blissed out. This is so comfortable...

”Boudica, what was the situation with that sewer you all went into?” Grendel asked.

This wasn’t classified information; the Lord had briefed them in a meeting before departing, and everyone present was privy to the details.

”Those Pigmen? Not a single one was a match for the boss and me!” At this topic, Boudica was no longer tired; boasting seemed to be an innate talent of hers. ”Even the iron bars at the entrance, as thick as an arm, were smashed apart! But we weren’t scared at all. The boss led us right in. It was pitch-black inside, and that stench...”

Paracelsus pulled her focus back from her blissful state, listening as Boudica recounted their experiences in the Beast Lair.