[h3]Reception, the Hunter's Clinic, in the outskirts of Yharnam[/h3]
Victor watched the brief scene playing out between Farren and Ophelia – his eyes darting to Farren's as soon as they opened, searching manically for something – and then let his gaze follow Ophelia as she set off in pursuit of their last enemy. He retrieved another blood vial from the bag on his hip, unscrewed both caps and drank the contents greedily while the screams of pain and fear from the diminished beast-man filled the air.
“Sometimes I worry if I'm losing my mind,” he remarked casually to Farren, discarding the empty vial on the floor without taking his eyes off Ophelia mutilating her victim. “Stuff like this helps. It's nice to be reminded that there are people out there that are crazier than you are.”

Ophelia's second examination of the bell did not yield much more than the initial one, as it still appeared entirely mundane. Much more interesting would be the ghastly prize she claimed from her prey; though the eyes visually resembled those of most other afflicted with the scourge of beasts, her attunement to the arcane and sensitivity to the eldritch secrets of the world told her that something lingered on them that had not on any other eyes she had handled. Though faint, like an echo of an echo, it seemed that the agony the beast-man had endured prior to his death had left its mark.

When she returned, Victor reacted to her mumbling with a brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, he vanished?”
Around them, now that relative peace had returned to the area, the Messengers from before returned and resumed what they had been doing before, tending the lantern and trying to beckon Farren and Ophelia to certain things. Among them, however, were two Messengers that emerged directly in front of Ophelia, less than a meter from her feet, that held another scroll.