There are many, many lunatics in this era.
Siles couldn’t refute this statement.
The underlying tone of the Duchy of Konst might be orderly, but that was only true here. Outside the principality, the Ashless Land was filled with both opportunities and risks, and the Duchy of Kansas was what Kellogg had described as “chaotic.”
And even in Lamifa, Apostates, followers of the Old Gods, out-of-control Time Traces, and so on, all showed Siles the dark colors and muck beneath this seemingly peaceful world.
He was silent for a moment, and finally said, “However, there are still people fighting against this group of lunatics.”
Dominic laughed, “Professor Noel, are you praising me as if you were praising your students?”
Siles thought to himself that he had rarely ever praised his students.
But he nodded.
“Thank you,” Dominic said. “Someone always needs to do something.”
Thinking of this Church of the Past Investigator’s past experiences, Siles asked, “Is the Torture Study Society’s infiltration of Lamifa City… that severe?”
“That depends on what you compare it to,” Dominic said. “Solely within the category of followers of the Old Gods, it indeed is. Because there will always be people whose lives are unsatisfactory, and then they get attracted by their ideology.
“Suffer first, then attain salvation. The present suffering is only for a beautiful future. That sounds wonderful enough.”
Siles said softly, “Self-consolation.”
Dominic sighed, “They have no other way.”
Siles shook his head and said nothing.
The visitor from Earth didn’t quite agree with this approach, but this was also a characteristic of this world. After all, gods truly existed in this world.
Dominic placed the pen rest into a bag, attached a label to it, and then put it away in a drawer.
Siles watched his actions and asked carefully, “Is that it?”
“Pretty much,” Dominic said. “Later, someone will investigate the middle-aged man’s identity and whereabouts and register him. He hasn’t joined the Torture Study Society yet, but his appearance is enough to prove that the Torture Study Society has started to become active again recently.
“Heaven knows what schemes they are hatching, or perhaps they just want to take the opportunity to amass wealth. People always harbor some illusions in this regard, thinking they can use money to offset the misfortunes in their current lives.”
Siles remained silent.
Dominic complained, then suddenly remembered something and said to Siles, “You sent over that manuscript earlier, didn’t you?”
Siles nodded, adding, “I handed it to Bishop Grosvenor.”
“Yes, yes. The Bishop gave that manuscript to me,” Dominic said somewhat absentmindedly. “However, I couldn’t find anything from investigating it.”
“Professor Cabel’s whereabouts…”
Dominic shook his head. He shifted into a more comfortable posture and looked a bit more relaxed. The topic of the Torture Study Society just now had made him somewhat resistant, making his whole body very tense.
But when Professor Cabel’s matter was brought up, he became calmer and more relaxed instead.
He said, “Cabel has been missing for over a month.”
Siles was slightly startled, “Since July?”
“He was also a professor at Lamifa University, and you should be very familiar with Lamifa University’s academic calendar. In the first week of July, the students finish their final exams and then go on break,” Dominic said. “Cabel disappeared right around that time.”
“Then why did his family report it to the police so late?”
Dominic recalled for a moment, “According to our current investigation results, he seemed to have received some news, so he hastily resigned, bid farewell to his family, and left Lamifa on the very first day of the holidays. He never appeared again after that.”
“His family doesn’t know where he went either?”
Dominic shook his head and said, “He didn’t tell anyone his destination.”
Siles frowned slightly.
Dominic said, “We learned from his home—he lived alone, and had an older brother and an older sister who would occasionally visit him. When Cabel left Lamifa, he wrote them a letter, saying he would be away for half a month to twenty days.
“Half a month later, his sister went to his house to look for him, but no one was there. Another ten days or so passed, and Cabel still hadn’t returned, so his siblings reported it to the police.
“His house contained quite a few out-of-control Time Traces, manuscripts, and ancient texts, some of which were very… dangerous. We think he might have gotten involved with followers of the Old Gods, or perhaps he himself was a believer of some Old God, or was researching some Old God.
“There are many possibilities, but no clear direction. We believe he might have taken some important documents with him. That manuscript you sent over has a certain research value, but we couldn’t find the book corresponding to that excerpt, so…”
Dominic couldn’t help but shake his head.
Siles asked, “Are the official authorities of the Duchy of Konst also powerless to investigate his whereabouts? If he left Lamifa City…”
Dominic cast him an astonished look, “Why would you think the Duchy of Konst would be of any help in this matter?”
Siles paused and said, “If he left the Duchy of Konst, there should always be some registration procedures, right?”
“No, no, no. First, we cannot be sure if he left Konst, or if he is somewhere within the borders of the Duchy of Konst,” Dominic said. “Second, even if he did leave Konst and went to the Ashless Land, we wouldn’t necessarily be able to find his exit records.”
Siles was somewhat surprised.
Dominic hesitated for a moment, and finally said, “You haven’t been to the Ashless Land, have you?”
Siles said, “I indeed haven’t.”
“The dividing line of the mist is not that clear-cut. It’s not like there’s a line cutting the two sides apart, where there is mist on this side and no mist on the other… it’s not like that,” Dominic explained. “In some places along the border, the mist might have already spread to the edge of the cities.
“We can’t exactly know the situation in those ambiguous zones. There are always people who cross the border illegally from there. And as for those who want to go to the Ashless Land, generally speaking, the Principality turns a blind eye.”
Siles asked in confusion, “Why?”
Dominic was silent for a moment, then said softly, “Because there are still many places in the Ashless Land that we don’t know enough about.”
Siles suddenly understood.
Those who wanted to leave the Duchy of Konst and head to the Ashless Land were the trailblazing pioneers of this era. They might just be seeking an opportunity, a chance to get rich, so they made up their minds, gritted their teeth, and left.
However, their actions also, to some extent, aligned with the development of this era.
“It used to be even crazier,” Dominic said. “When the Age of Mists just began, our God protected the few rare nations that were not shrouded in mist, allowing humanity to survive on its last breath.
“After that, the mist slowly dissipated, and humanity, having recuperated, gradually prospered, thus once again giving rise to strong intentions of exploring the Ashless Land. People at that time almost madly chased after potential opportunities and chances to get rich.
“Some maps from before the Age of Mists gave them their initial guidance. But after being shrouded in mist, many places in the Ashless Land… underwent changes.”
At this point, Dominic paused, then shook his head and didn’t continue.
Listening to what he said, Siles pondered in his heart.
No wonder there was so much about “humans” in literature related to Antinam.
On one hand, gods had fallen one after another, and faith was declining by the day. By now, only some followers of the Old Gods, considered to be lunatics, were still active. Naturally, human civilization had gained the upper hand in this world.
On the other hand, Antinam had protected the final sparks of human civilization and allowed it to slowly grow stronger. This made this newborn god of the Age of Mists inextricably linked with human civilization.
Just like Prometheus, who stole fire for humanity in Earth’s mythology. The actions of the god were thereby intertwined with human civilization.
Siles thought for a moment, gathered his thoughts, and said, “So, it is very difficult to find Professor Cabel right now.”
“Yes,” Dominic sighed. “A mystery case.”
Siles thought for a moment and suddenly remembered the teaching assistant. He asked, “It seems Professor Cabel’s teaching assistant has also lost contact. Have you found him?”
Dominic shook his head, “No. He is also missing. However, his time of disappearance was much later than Cabel’s, around July 20th. He also left a letter at home, saying he would be back before August, but he never showed up again.”
Siles pondered for a moment and said, “I think he left somewhat… hastily.” He paused. “Because after Professor Cabel resigned, the college originally intended for this teaching assistant to take over the professor position, and the corresponding handover work had already been done.
“But right when the semester was about to start, this teaching assistant lost contact. He left a letter at home, yet didn’t notify the college at all. This seems… extremely bizarre.”
When a normal person encounters an emergency and needs to leave for a while, their first reaction is indeed to leave a message for friends and family, but as long as time permits, they ought to inform their workplace as well. Any responsible adult would do so.
But this teaching assistant didn’t. Siles couldn’t doubt his character at this point, so he could only suspect that the matter was too sudden, forcing him to leave hastily without any time to notify Lamifa University.
Dominic muttered, “He wouldn’t happen to be connected to Cabel’s disappearance, would he?” He was originally just speaking casually, but suddenly his eyes widened. “Wait, it’s not impossible.”
“Professor Cabel left on the first day of the holiday, which was July 10th. He said he would return in half a month to twenty days. And the teaching assistant left on July 20th. Ten days later than Professor Cabel.”
Dominic looked at Siles with an inquiring gaze: “Do you think this teaching assistant went to look for Cabel?”
Siles said, “I think that is a possibility.”
Dominic fell into deep thought.
“Moreover, compared to Professor Cabel, this teaching assistant might have forgotten to take some important documents with him in his haste,” Siles said, then shook his head again. “It’s just a guess.”
“No, you’re right,” Dominic sighed. “We’ve always been treating these two as separate, independent events.”
Siles remained silent.
From the very beginning, he believed that the consecutive disappearance of these two people couldn’t be unrelated. He had also expressed this attitude to Dominic. Regardless, he hoped the Church of the Past could investigate and produce a result.
Whether they were dead or alive.
Thinking of the scribbled, messy handwriting on that manuscript, Siles couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
It was getting late, and this conversation with Dominic had consumed a long time. When Siles bid him farewell and left the apse, the time displayed on his pocket watch had already reached nine o’clock.
Siles felt a bit exhausted. He sighed inwardly and slowly walked out. The cathedral at night seemed excessively quiet, making Siles inevitably wonder if there were ghosts wandering late at night in such an ancient historic building.
The candlelight in the nave interrupted Siles’s reverie.
Knight Commander Bunyan was still standing beside the statue of Antinam, so silent that he too seemed like a statue, imposing and solemn. When he saw Siles, his expression softened.
He smiled faintly and said to Siles, “How was it? Did you get a result?”
Siles replied, “Dominic said there shouldn’t be any problems.”
Bunyan then said, “That’s good.” He asked, “Regarding the reward for the Apostate, Professor Noel, have you received it?”
“I received it.” Thinking of the Church of the Past’ generosity, Siles answered Bunyan’s question with a somewhat pleasant mood, “So the problem of the Apostate is considered solved, right?”
Bunyan paused, unable to directly answer this question.
Siles froze slightly and couldn’t help asking, “Did something go wrong?”
Bunyan sighed, some distress appearing on his face. He said, “I cannot tell you the full course of this matter. In short… the reason we were searching for this Apostate so urgently is because he stole an important item from within the Church.”
Siles nodded, thinking without changing his expression that of course he knew. The list of priests from the major dioceses of the Church of the Past. It was written clearly in the tabletop RPG script.
But Bunyan’s words sparked a rather bad association in his mind.
He said, “The Apostate has been arrested, but…”
“He says he lost that item.”
Siles frowned slightly, whispering in some surprise, “How could that be…”
Siles had never expected this. He thought that the Apostate being arrested meant this matter was already over, but…
Bunyan smiled bitterly.
Siles asked, “Could it be that he has already handed that item over to someone else?”
“No.” Bunyan shook his head. “When we caught him, he was wandering aimlessly all over the West City like a headless fly. He has absolutely no idea where he dropped that… that item.”
Siles was instantly rendered speechless.
Seriously… Is this Apostate a bit… stupid?
Siles felt a very subtle emotion, making him inevitably fall silent for two seconds before he said, “If you trace back his movements, you should be able to find it, right?”
Bunyan shook his head.
The night was already deep, and aside from an unlucky soul like Siles, there probably wouldn’t be anyone else coming to the cathedral at this time. Thus, Bunyan also explained carefully to Siles—who knows how much of this patience was due to the credit brought by the critical success on the Psychology check last time?
Bunyan said, “After he escaped the Church, he took a public carriage to the Old City and then laid low. But his injuries continuously worsened, so he was forced to find a doctor.
“He forced that doctor to help treat his wounds; that was exactly when we captured him. Coincidentally, that was precisely the room you once rented.”
Siles asked calmly, “13 Milford Street? I just came from there.”
“Because of the incident you encountered earlier?”
“That’s a long story,” Siles said. “The landlord’s son was cut with a small knife by that suspected follower of the Old Gods, so we went back from Ernestine to 13 Milford Street and found Chester—that doctor—to help treat his wound.”
“That really is quite a coincidence,” Bunyan shook his head. “We captured the Apostate on Tuesday afternoon of this week.”
Tuesday. Siles thought. He had also been very busy on Tuesday. Tuesday was also the day of the engagement of Brewer Darrow, whose whereabouts were now unknown.
So many things happened on Tuesday.
“Did you arrest the guy directly at 13 Milford Street?” Siles couldn’t help but ask.
Bunyan said, “Not that blatantly. During those few days, I pretended to be looking to rent a room and asked around near Logan Market. On Tuesday morning, I heard from the landlady of 12 Milford Street that a doctor had moved onto the second floor of number 13.”
12 Milford Street?
Siles recalled for a moment, his mood suddenly becoming a bit weird. He thought, wasn’t that Mrs. Hovey? Wasn’t Mrs. Hovey the one who told Mrs. Fenn the rumors about the shadows in the Old City at night?
Previously, Siles had just thought that rumor was nothing but an echoing ghost story.
Mrs. Hovey had probably heard about the doctor moving in from Mrs. Fenn, and then unable to control her urge to gossip and chat, relayed this matter to the secretly investigating Bunyan, inadvertently helping out.
Bunyan didn’t expect that Siles had already thought of Mrs. Hovey. He continued, “Afterward, I kept an eye on the situation at 13 Milford Street. On Tuesday afternoon, I saw figures moving around in the doctor’s room on the second floor, so I went upstairs and happened to catch that Apostate.”
Siles asked cautiously, “At this point, he had already lost that item?”
“Yes.” Bunyan sighed. “He said he had been hiding in the underground tunnels of the Old City for the past while. Because his injuries were getting worse, he had to see a doctor but didn’t dare go into a clinic.
“After asking around from multiple sources, he heard from the underground gangs that a doctor had moved into 13 Milford Street, so he went there and threatened the doctor to treat his wounds. That was already his second time visiting that doctor, to get his dressing changed.
“During that time, his injuries were too severe, and he had a high fever, making him a bit delirious. So he completely didn’t remember when he lost the item he had stolen earlier; he only knows it was during these few days he was in the West City.”
Siles listened with a frown, suddenly noticing a key point: “Underground gangs?”
“Right. But we also don’t know how rumors of a doctor on Milford Street reached the underground gangs,” Bunyan said somewhat helplessly. “We can’t investigate in such fine detail either.”
Siles thought to himself, Don’t tell me it was Anthony Fenn, that young boy, who spread the news?
Because he couldn’t get any useful news from his father, he just forcibly dragged this in, trying hard to provide some fresh, supposedly useful information to deal with the underground gangs?
Oh no, he actually felt this guess was highly likely to be true…
Siles originally felt that the Apostate’s arrest was a very logical occurrence, after all, he had already revealed this person’s general area of activity. But he never expected that this process would involve so many… complex coincidences.
He felt caught between laughter and tears. He added, “In that case, could the item you are looking for have fallen into the hands of the underground gangs?”
Bunyan said, “We’ve considered this possibility, but haven’t obtained any clues yet.” He sighed, saying in a joking tone, “Professor Noel, if only you could provide another clue, that would be great.”
Siles shook his head, thinking to himself that Knight Commander Bunyan could actually crack jokes too. He said, “I’m afraid I’m not that omnipotent.”
Bunyan also laughed heartily.
The topic of the Apostate came to a close, and Siles was just about to bid farewell to Bunyan when he suddenly remembered what Bunyan had mentioned before: if Siles had any academic needs, he could seek help from the Church of the Past.
Right now, Siles happened to be researching the wandering bards of the Sardinian Empire, so he said, “Bunyan, I’d like to ask, does the Church have any materials concerning the Sardinian Empire here? I’m researching wandering bards.”
Hearing Siles’s last sentence, Bunyan couldn’t help but freeze, asking subconsciously, “The wandering bards of the Sardinian Empire?”
Siles nodded: “I am looking for their works.”
Bunyan recalled for a moment, then said with some uncertainty, “Probably.” He laughed, “I will help you look for them later. If I find them, I will write you a letter to notify you.”
Siles thanked Bunyan for his help, bid him farewell, and left.
At this moment, he suddenly realized that even though his chosen topic seemed somewhat obscure, he was surprisingly already able to find at least three channels—Kellogg, Alfonso, and Bunyan—to obtain relevant knowledge.
This made the prospects for this thesis slightly brighter.
He cheered up a bit, walked out of the cathedral, found a hired carriage nearby—the public carriages had long stopped running—and returned to 6 Hayward Street.
Lorenzo was in his own room. Siles saw the lights on the second floor were on. He went upstairs quietly, not wanting to disturb Lorenzo, but as he passed the second floor, Lorenzo proactively opened the door and told him, “There is a letter for you on the first floor.”
Siles froze slightly, then thanked him.
“You are truly too busy,” Lorenzo sighed. “Go to sleep early. Oh right, don’t forget to write your novel.”
Siles: “…”
Then he’d better just go to sleep early.
He returned to the first floor to grab his letter, and by the time he got back to his third-floor bedroom, he felt his whole body was about to fall apart from all the tossing and turning today. Even though it seemed he hadn’t encountered any real danger throughout the entire day, but…
Siles knew that danger would arrive sooner or later.
He closed his eyes, gathered his wits, and then got up to take a bath, wash up, change clothes, and do laundry—some parts of his shirt were stained with Anthony’s blood. He scrubbed hard for a long time, but finally had no choice but to throw this piece of clothing into the trash can in resignation.
He thought, the laundry soap in this world was still not as good as Earth’s.
By the time he slightly alleviated his exhaustion, sat down at the desk, and opened the letter, it was already nearly eleven o’clock.
Tomorrow he still had to return to the West City and have a meal with the Fenn family. Siles thought absentmindedly. Perhaps he could take the opportunity to ask them if they had noticed anything about the Apostate… Could he just talk directly with Chester?
But he wasn’t very familiar with that gentle doctor. Meaning in reality. He was very familiar with that doctor in the tabletop RPG script. But the real-life merchant Lanmere had gone off to participate in some baffling Stardust business.
He couldn’t guarantee that the RPG characters he knew perfectly matched their real-life counterparts.
Siles couldn’t help but sigh, unfolded the letter paper, and began to read.
This letter came from the club that Siles was about to forget he was in charge of—Chronicles of Suffering. The writer of the letter was the president of this club, who was also a young student.
In the letter, he politely asked Siles if he had time to meet with him on Monday morning, so they could chat about matters related to club activities.
He would be self-studying in an activity room on the first floor of the main castle while waiting for Siles, and Siles could come find him directly then. If Siles was not available on Monday morning, he could also write back to choose another time.
The letter very considerately listed several candidate times for Siles to choose from.
The signature was the student’s name: Horatio Dwight.
The wording of the entire letter made Siles feel very comfortable; it was concise and polite, with no deliberate fawning or inadvertently revealed contempt. It appeared restrained and introverted.
This perfectly matched the personality traits Siles had outlined for its members when he first heard of the club’s existence.
However, now Siles had just heard some things related to the Torture Study Society from Dominic.
He couldn’t help but wonder, was this club related to the Torture Study Society? Or did they just purely want to study historical asceticism and self-restraint, and research the ways believers practiced their faith?
Siles didn’t really want to suspect his students, so he cast aside these thoughts, put the letter away, and wrote down this Monday morning itinerary in his notebook.
Tomorrow he was going to the West City. Monday morning, meeting with the student from the club; afternoon, going to the Historical Society, probably getting to hear related progress on Brewer’s whereabouts…
Siles suddenly sighed, feeling extremely busy.
He organized his gains over the past period and his schedule for the upcoming period in his notebook. Afterward, he got into bed early and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, he allowed himself to stay in bed for a little while, getting up at eight-thirty to wash up. At nine o’clock, he went to the cafeteria to eat some breakfast, and then took a public carriage, swaying his way to Logan Market.
He thought for a moment and simply bought some fresh fruits and desserts at the market. His relationship with the Fenn family was growing closer, but he felt embarrassed to go over for a meal empty-handed.
While at the market, he specifically paid attention to the shops of Greyson Food Company. He found that Greyson’s shops had indeed unwittingly occupied many prime locations in Logan Market.
Greyson’s logo—an inverted triangle with a wide-laughing mouth in the middle—was also printed on the signboards of these shops. Although this logo was somewhat bizarre, it left a deep impression and was unforgettable.
Siles originally just bought some fruits, but as he passed by Greyson’s dessert shop, an enthusiastic clerk shoved an advertising card into his hand. He didn’t know if this kind of ad card was because Lanmere acted very fast, or if they had already existed before.
Regardless, harboring a bit of a mindset to support his own business, Siles walked in and, under the clerk’s recommendation, bought several kinds of desserts, intending to give them to Mrs. Fenn and Anthony to eat.
…Perhaps Bertram would also like such desserts? Siles guessed.
He found that many of the desserts in this era were already very close in appearance and smell to those Siles had eaten on Earth. He originally wanted to make some money by selling recipes, but now he wasn’t short of money and was extremely busy, so he temporarily shelved this idea.
Soon, Siles left Logan Market and arrived at 13 Milford Street.
When he entered the first-floor foyer, he already heard Bertram’s voice. When he knocked on the door and Mrs. Fenn opened it, he even heard a burst of loud laughter.
“…Siles! You’re here!” Bertram stood up to welcome him.
“Good morning.” Siles’s gaze swept over the people present. Not only the Fenn family was there, but also Eric and his wife. She was a thin, pale middle-aged woman, but her gaze was gentle and clear, and she always wore a soft smile on her face.
She sat together with Eric. Both of them were dressed plainly and neatly, and they didn’t appear constrained or awkward in Bertram’s home.
Siles placed the fruits and desserts he bought on the coffee table.
Bertram still wanted to say something, but Anthony had already cheered, taking a sweet, rich cake out of the bag and starting to eat it.
Bertram Fenn rolled his eyes on the spot.
This father and son, who couldn’t be said to hate each other but always rubbed each other the wrong way, instantly amused everyone.
Siles noticed a brand-new set of ceramic tea utensils placed on the coffee table. Mrs. Fenn explained softly from the side, “Mr. Collens brought that over. I heard it was made by his wife, truly clever and deft.”
If the usual Mrs. Fenn had said this, Siles would probably have felt she was being snide and cutting. But now, Mrs. Fenn’s tone seemed much more lenient and genial.
Siles smiled slightly and said, “Their entire family values this job very much.”
That tea set was probably rushed out overnight by Eric’s wife; delivering such a thing was enough to prove their sincerity.
Mrs. Fenn nodded.
At noon, they went to a nearby restaurant for a meal. Bertram treated them, and during the meal, he once again brought up what had happened at the trade fair the previous night, expressing his repeated gratitude.
After the meal, Mrs. Collens’s job was officially confirmed. Bertram decided to move to the East City after this year’s trade fair concluded. During this period, he would look for a suitable house, and after they moved out, Eric’s family could move into 13 Milford Street.
Everyone was happy.
They walked back slowly from the restaurant. Bertram was chatting with Eric, the content roughly about matters related to Ernestine, the trade fair, and the Ashless Land. These two middle-aged men actually got along quite well in conversation.
Mrs. Fenn was walking with Eric’s wife. Siles heard Mrs. Fenn asking for advice on pottery and other handicrafts. It was a good thing for Mrs. Fenn to develop a hobby, preventing her days from being too idle and boring.
Siles ended up walking with Anthony.
This young boy was always a bit rebellious and stubborn, but sometimes he unexpectedly held Siles in awe.
Siles thought for a moment and asked, “Anthony, I want to ask you something.”
Anthony looked at Siles warily and said, “You promised me…”
Siles was silent for a moment, then said, “You are going to school soon. You might as well prep early.”
“I…” Anthony’s face turned red with anger. “I know!”
“Good that you know,” Siles nodded, adding, “But that’s not what I wanted to ask.”
Anthony looked at him in disbelief, then said indignantly, “Atrocious adults!”
Siles let out a faint laugh, then said, “What I want to ask is, did you inform the underground gangs about the doctor renting the second floor?”
Anthony’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of their sockets. He said almost in terror, “How did you know!”
Siles thought, as expected.
To think the news really leaked out from Anthony. Siles let out a sigh.
Anthony probably held Siles’s sharpness and omniscience in even greater awe now. He mumbled, “I… you told me to… so I didn’t tell that guy anything about my dad’s side.
“As for the doctor renting the second floor, many people know he came here. Me leaking it out is no big deal!”
As he spoke, he slowly became self-righteous and confident.
Siles glanced at him, then asked, “Were you at home on Tuesday?”
“Tuesday?” Anthony was taken aback. He counted on his fingers to figure out which day was Tuesday.
Siles couldn’t bear it and looked away.
After a moment, Anthony shook his head: “No, I wasn’t. After that doctor arrived, he said my mom’s health wasn’t good or something, so my mom booked a checkup for Tuesday. We went together, then strolled around the East City… we set off in the morning and only came home after eating dinner.”
Siles suddenly understood.
Bertram had indeed mentioned Mrs. Fenn’s checkup to him before, but he hadn’t expected this to also happen on Tuesday.
A busy Tuesday. Siles couldn’t help but have this thought once again.
In that case, the Fenn family should have nothing to do with the Apostate. Siles thought. If he wanted to know some information, he’d probably still have to start with Doctor Chester.
After thinking for a long time, Siles suddenly felt a bit helpless—in the end, were matters within the tabletop RPG script still reliant on tabletop RPG characters to be resolved?
He didn’t have a sufficient reason to seek out Chester directly, so he could only take a long-term approach.
He was more or less concerned about the whereabouts of that list. This was a possibility that hadn’t appeared in the tabletop RPG script, a butterfly effect caused by Siles’s arrival in this world. He couldn’t afford not to pay attention to it.
Siles bade farewell to the Fenn family near Logan Market, and chatted a bit more with Eric’s family. Eric once again thanked Siles for his matchmaking, but Siles told him not to mind it.
They said their goodbyes, and Siles took a public carriage back to Lamifa University.
By this time, it was two o’clock in the afternoon. Siles took a short nap, then got up at three and started writing his novel. He spent two hours writing a chapter, went to the cafeteria for dinner, and then took a walk around Lamifa University.
He even saw a few familiar students, so he nodded slightly and greeted them.
Of course, he didn’t hear the students secretly calling him the “Devil Professor,” otherwise he probably wouldn’t have had the leisure to greet them.
In the evening, he spent a little time compiling the reading lists for the public elective and specialized elective courses. Fortunately, the lesson plans had already been drawn up, so compiling the reading lists went quite fast.
Around eight o’clock, Siles finished all his main tasks and also took care of his personal hygiene and tidied his room. Then, with a relaxed mindset, he chose between the two books he had bought at the trade fair, finally settling on the painter’s manuscript.
Right on time, since he should be able to hear the latest progress on Brewer’s situation tomorrow. Siles thought.
He carefully opened this manuscript.
On Earth, some well-known artists, directors, and writers would publish behind-the-scenes accounts of their works, similar to biographies, and would even attach photos of their manuscripts.
But those, after all, were the results shown after careful editing and organizing.
And the manuscript Siles had bought yesterday was not the exact original manuscript, but a transcription by someone in later generations. However, it was still extremely old, and the book’s cover looked tattered and torn.
This painter’s name was Leon Gilbert. Siles didn’t know much about the artists of the Age of Mists, but he had heard of this painter, mainly because of his life story.
Leon Gilbert was a painter from the early Age of Mists. He became famous at a young age, rising to prominence at fifteen because of a single painting. By his early twenties, he was already the most renowned painter in the Duchy of Konst.
However, right at this time, he suddenly seemed to have exhausted his talents and retired his brush. It wasn’t until he was nearly forty that he picked up his brush again, painted a stunning masterpiece considered to have “subverted the concepts and style of all of Leon’s previous paintings,” and then passed away.
Siles had never seen that painting with his own eyes. The original owner of his body had no interest in the field of painting, and this era wasn’t like Earth’s internet age where one could browse all information online at any time.
It was said that Leon’s last painting was owned by a private collector, kept hidden at home, completely unwilling to be shown to the public. As for the other connoisseurs and critics who were fortunate enough to have seen the painting, they all kept their mouths shut.
As time passed, this painting became part of the mists of history, with no one knowing its true meaning.
The only person who had ever evaluated that painting simply uttered the word “madness” and was never willing to mention their feelings upon seeing the painting again.
It seemed this painting hid some secret—an Old God? Siles thought. Because many, many secrets in this world were related to the Old Gods.
Aside from Leon’s mysterious final painting, most of his works from before his retirement at age twenty were publicly exhibited in the Lamifa National Museum, and Siles had once gone to appreciate them.
Leon’s paintings from his youth mostly used vibrant, heavy, and bright colors, mostly landscapes, belonging to a style that would catch people’s eyes at first glance. He liked to depict the city and the countryside, or a combination of both.
It was said that he lived in the countryside with his grandparents year-round when he was a child, but by the time he started learning to paint, he had already returned to Lamifa City with his parents. After retiring his brush, he left Lamifa and spent twenty years alone in a nearby village.
No one knows what Leon experienced during those twenty years. Likewise, no one knows why, after twenty years had passed, he would return to Lamifa City, inviting many connoisseurs and critics to witness the birth of his final piece together.
This was said to be an unsolved mystery in the art world.
Siles had no curiosity about what Leon had experienced. He knew there must be quite a few people in the historical community who researched these things. If he were curious, he might as well go look at related theses.
However, after genuinely reading this manuscript carefully, Siles was astonished to discover that this manuscript was written precisely during those twenty years Leon was isolated from the world!
