Chapter 329: Three Months Later

The one thing that set Miss Anomaly apart was this: she did not belong to the current era of this Fragment World.

Her cognition, the society embedded in her memories, the worldview etched into her subconscious—all of it aligned more closely with the state of this Fragment World thirty to forty years ago.

In a sense, she was somewhat like…

A transmigrator, whose physical body had crossed into a future world relative to her own.

And, perhaps because of this very “transmigration,” something seemed to have changed within her, granting her a portion of anomalous traits.

Beyond probing whether Miss Anomaly’s essence was human or something else entirely, Pandora had also used the girl’s old memories to conduct a brief, surface-level investigation into this Fragment World’s past.

At least thirty to forty years ago, Anomalies were nowhere near as widespread as they were in the Fragment World today.

In Miss K’s memories, none of the Anomalies Pandora had encountered so far existed yet.

It wasn’t just that she hadn’t run into them—there was genuinely not a single trace of their existence.

This was not the self-cognitive blind spot unique to the Fragment World’s natives, causing her to overlook Anomalies. It was far more likely that in that era, Anomalies were simply rare.

That was the case, until…

The suspected appearance of the “Gateway to Heaven” at the very end of the hypnosis.

In other words, decades ago in this Fragment World, Anomalies were far less common than they were now. But even so, Anomalies had already existed for a long time, particularly certain ancient ones.

The Gateway to Heaven was likely one of them.

However…

Did any of this relate to Miss Anomaly’s abilities?

Pandora mulled it over briefly, then shook her head. It wasn’t that she dismissed the possibility; the available information was simply insufficient to support any meaningful speculation.

And, more to the point, who could be absolutely certain that Miss Anomaly’s memories were genuine?

After all, it was a subconscious excavation conducted under hypnosis. How much of it was real memory, and how much was fabrications autonomously filled in by the subconscious, was still difficult to distinguish.

Delving into the past was, by its very nature, a thankless endeavor.

Pandora was no historian. She had a passing interest in the subject, but nothing more.

She had far too many matters of her own to attend to—Wizardry research, experiments on potion ingredient substitution, the cultivation of the Cloud-White Currant… This was something she would only pursue when convenient.

If it demanded too much energy, or even began to encroach upon her primary objectives, then it was not worth the effort.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Thank you for your understanding. Now, regarding Miss K’s condition—”

Dr. Brenner removed his fine tortoiseshell pince-nez and retrieved a square of deep blue velvet cloth from his breast pocket. He began carefully polishing the lenses.

The motion, more than anything else, was an effort to pull himself free from the grief he’d felt over his carpet just moments ago, to reclaim his own air of professional authority.

He settled the glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, adjusted them slightly, and his gaze regained that scrutinizing, composed intensity.

“Although today’s hypnosis had to be interrupted, we have already observed some rather intriguing phenomena.”

“If you are amenable, we could attempt a method currently gaining traction in the field: exposure therapy. By gradually exposing the patient to stimuli linked to repressed memories within a safe environment, we can lessen her fear response to specific images.”

“Alternatively, we could employ certain adjunctive medications to help her recall those obscured details.”

“Of course, either approach would require a long-term course of treatment.”

His tone, as he spoke, was professional and assured, as if the man who had been kneeling on the floor moments ago, staring at the ruined carpet in despair, was someone else entirely.

“We’ll see,” Pandora did not commit to an answer immediately.

It wasn’t that she was uninterested in Dr. Brenner’s proposals, nor was she concerned about the cost. After all, greenbacks held little significance for her.

The greenbacks she possessed—and even Elsa’s—were, in truth, provided by the auxiliary squad. Spending a bit of money was never an issue.

The key was whether Miss Anomaly herself wanted it.

And so, she neither agreed nor refused. She left the matter open.

“We will consider the course of treatment. After all, K’s condition does need stabilization.”

Pandora rose, smoothed out her skirt, her tone even and polite.

“Let’s leave it here for today. For the next appointment, I’ll have my assistant contact you.”

“Very well. You are always welcome.”

Dr. Brenner nodded and personally saw the two of them to the door.

They pushed the door open and left.

The deliberately cultivated silence of the corridor was replaced by the faint, muffled sounds of a working office building drifting in from the world beyond—the distant hum of elevators, the indistinct ringing of a telephone in some office, the soft rattle of a janitor’s cart wheels rolling by…

These sounds jolted Pandora, still emerging from the atmosphere of hypnosis, into greater alertness.

………………

“That concludes our session for today.”

“For the next appointment, I’ll have my assistant contact you.”

Pandora rose, smoothed out her skirt, her tone even and polite.

She spoke almost the exact same words she had uttered three months ago.

“Very well. You are always welcome.”

Dr. Brenner nodded and personally saw the two of them to the door. His demeanor was as professional as ever, only now his eyes held a touch more resignation than they had three months prior.

They pushed the door open and stepped into the silent corridor.

Night had fallen over the office building. Most of the offices were dark, their lights extinguished. Only the emergency lights at the end of the hallway remained lit, casting a dim glow.

Their footsteps echoed through the empty passage.

Pandora found herself glancing toward the window at the corridor’s end. Unlike the previous sessions, it was now well into the night.

Crimson moonlight slanted through the gaps in the venetian blinds, falling diagonally across the hallway and laying blood-red stripes upon the floor.

Those stripes, long and parallel, resembled the ribs of some colossal beast, silently spanning the dark wooden floorboards.

Beyond the window lay the concrete-and-steel city, still buzzing with a degree of clamor. Far-off high-rises glimmered with scattered lights. The taillights of cars on the streets below traced flowing red lines through the night.

They had arrived rather late today, so by the time the session ended, it was already night.

As for the effectiveness of the treatment—there was essentially none to speak of.

Miss Anomaly was still unable to recall those obscured details. Her panic attacks hadn’t seen any fundamental improvement, either.

Dr. Brenner had tried several different guided techniques, even used some mild adjunctive medications, but the girl’s subconscious barrier against those “missing pieces” was fortified to an unimaginable degree.

Still, if one thought about it another way, the entire process was less a treatment and more a way for the girl to have a chat in a relaxing environment.

After all, Pandora had never harbored any particularly strong objective for this in the first place.