Name: Klaus von Rosenberg

Occupation: Youngest Director of the Royal Institute of Anatomy.

Personality: His conduct is always colored by perfect order and aesthetics, and his uncompromising, tranquil presence brings a near-sacred tension to his surroundings. His thoughts are always reaching beyond time and space; the sudden shifts in his speech are nothing less than "flashes of profound contemplation" that far exceed the understanding of ordinary people.

In dialogue with him, worldly social pleasantries are entirely useless. He does not curry favor with sweet words, but weaves only pure truth and the sublime spirit of inquiry dwelling within him into speech. His fierce self-sincerity is sometimes misunderstood as coldness, but that is the ultimate expression of the respect he holds for "life and death."

Furthermore, his dining table features a geometric microcosm drawn upon selected white porcelain—a single dish like a work of art, where beauty and nutrition are condensed to the limit under strict calculation. His way of life, which excludes all compromise even in his private life and offers all twenty-four hours as a supreme sacrifice to academia, is truly that of a "Beautiful Martyr" living in the modern age.

Obsession: To him, bones are the ultimate sculptures boasting perfect beauty and flawless geometry. He views soft tissues like skin, muscle, and fat as "shoddy wrapping paper that eventually rots and emits a foul stench."

Professionalism: He allows no compromise in the formulation of chemicals used to degrease and bleach bones. He will stay up for days on end, applying and polishing with self-made abrasives until the bone surface radiates a pearlescent luster and feels as smooth as silk.

Private Life: In his private room, beautiful specimens preserved in formalin are neatly arranged on chemical shelves. His most relaxing time is spent using tweezers to remove air bubbles from liquid-immersion specimens one by one, and tracing the suture lines of skulls with his fingers.