CHAPTER 196: CHAPTER 184: NEITHER MATERIALISTIC NOR SCIENTIFIC_3

Those people were called Wizards, and the organization they formed was the Supernatural Organization Tamara called the Black Tower. It was an organization where survival of the fittest prevailed, as the strong dominated the weak.

Lance suspected that the author of *Spiritual Vision* was a Wizard.

But none of that mattered anymore. Lance needed to cultivate his own people.

The first step was to broaden her horizons.

"Have you ever seen the other side of this world?"

Upon hearing this, the doctor’s first reaction wasn’t confusion but a flash of fear. It vanished quickly, but Lance had accurately captured that moment.

He knew something must have compelled the doctor to choose this path.

"It seems you’ve experienced some interesting things. Would you mind sharing them?"

The doctor remained silent, her expression solemn, clearly having no intention of speaking.

Lance had no intention of pressuring her. Instead, he began to speak of his own accord about the Supernatural Power Tamara had once explained to him.

However, he had carefully filtered the information, as there were some things she couldn’t know yet.

Lance’s words immediately provoked her aversion. A clear sense of repulsion materialized on her face.

She had thought Lance was a proponent of science. It was truly frustrating to find him engaged in such matters.

Lance, of course, noticed her reaction. But with the ship at sea, he wasn’t worried about her escaping, so he was in no hurry.

He raised his hand toward the doctor, palm open. In the next second, a Dagger materialized in his hand out of thin air, right before her eyes.

While she was still stunned, Lance grabbed her hand and made a small cut on her fingertip. Blood welled up immediately. Then, he raised his other hand, activated Flesh Reconstruction, and the small wound healed in an instant.

"AH..." Only then did the doctor let out a soft cry of pain. She jerked her hand back, looking at her finger and frowning as she demanded, "Why did you cut me?"

"Of course, it’s to let you feel Supernatural Power more clearly," Lance said with a smile. A cut like that would hurt. Since he could cut someone else, why would he cut himself?

The doctor fell silent, but her furrowed brow indicated this was not a welcome development.

Although she didn’t say anything, her continuous fiddling with her fingers showed her disbelief.

"Want to try again?" Lance asked, shaking the Dagger in his hand.

"Impossible! What kind of trickery is this? Or is it magic?" Even when faced with the undeniable, she still questioned it, snatching the Dagger to study it.

Lance couldn’t help but scoff, retorting:

"You clearly believe it yourself, so why force yourself to deny it? You’re now embodying the very ’feudal thinking’ you despise—unwilling to encounter new things, much less acknowledge them. Instead, you choose to arrogantly erase them from your mind.

Admit it, you’re just like those Priests of the Church—neither materialistic nor scientific."

The doctor’s movements ceased. She, who had just been eager to prove something, fell silent.

"Spiritual Essence is an elusive concept. Due to innate limitations, many ordinary people, and even Transcendents, cannot observe its existence. But Spiritual Essence has many marvelous uses, as evidenced by the Church’s monopoly on Divine Arts for centuries.

You consider yourself a pathologist. If you aim to delve deep into the causes of human diseases, you cannot ignore this crucial influencing factor. Yet your first reaction isn’t to study its effects on the human body, but to deny it.

This reaction alone is enough to show that you’re not a true researcher. What drives you isn’t the desire for knowledge, but rather..."

Lance had no intention of letting her off easily. He continued to mercilessly attack her beliefs, aiming to reshape her perspective.

He needed a rational, scientific researcher to help him explore the path of medical advancement for this world, not a self-righteous fool.

Lance’s words were as sharp as a dagger, unhesitatingly thrusting into her mind and stirring up chaos, leaving her original worldview in tatters.

Everything she took pride in became valueless in his words. Immense pressure loomed over her like dark clouds, her thoughts falling into disarray, and eerie, almost imperceptible wails seemed to echo in her ears.

The standout student, who used to debate vigorously with professors in class, was gone. In her place was a panicked student, stripped of her mask.

Seeing her like this, Lance stopped his scathing remarks.

This student’s mentality was still lacking. She hadn’t even heard about the Old Ancestor’s sordid affairs. If she encountered those monsters, wouldn’t she go insane?

Suddenly, Lance realized his original self was also just an ungraduated college student, lured here by that old man’s letter before he even had a chance to venture out into the world.

Without me, even if that version of him hadn’t died on the old path, he would have just been controlled by the mayor and the Butler, foolishly assembling mercenaries to seek out the Old Ancestor, only to end up as part of the sacrifice.

Lance didn’t intend to pressure her further. Instead, his attitude softened considerably.

"Can you tell me? Why did you choose this path?"

Silence.

Lance observed her reaction. He knew it was too soon to discuss these matters; she wasn’t ready to open up to a stranger.

But he wasn’t surprised by this. In fact, he proactively shifted the topic.

"Do you know what field I studied?"

The doctor, puzzled by the drastic change in topic, was momentarily stunned and instinctively looked up at him.