The three people took their seats at the Ernestine Tavern.
Jon seemed somewhat curious about the relationship between Siles and Chendo, but he didn’t pry. After sitting down, he said, “Such freezing weather. The things happening in Lamifa City are even more chilling.”
Siles nodded in agreement.
Jon changed the subject, “Since you are very interested in the Marigold Cup, why not come to my house this afternoon as a guest? Of course, it would be best if you don’t mind my messy home.”
Siles smiled slightly and said, “Of course not, Jon. I appreciate your generosity.”
“No detective would miss out on clues delivered right to their door,” Jon said, spreading his hands. “I should be thanking your appearance for bringing a ray of hope to this case.”
Without waiting for Siles to reply, Jon continued, “We don’t need to be so formal here. Let me go ask around first; you two just sit here for a while.”
Saying this, he stood up and started striking up conversations with the surrounding tavern patrons, displaying the full aura and demeanor of a detective.
After he left, Chendo finally said, “He looks like a…” He weighed his words, then narrowed his eyes and whispered, “…dangerous person.”
…This emerald-eyed explorer from the Ashless Lands, with his current displeased expression, was indeed a dangerous person himself.
Of course, Siles did not deny his speculation about Jon.
Jon Mansfield. A detective. He enjoyed a good reputation in Lamifa City and thus joined the team searching for the apostate. He would very likely uncover a conspiracy.
This was the introduction in the original tabletop RPG scenario.
However, after Siles came to this world, he had completely derailed the RPG plot. The characters in the RPG, who were originally supposed to be strung together by the apostate Hamlin’s actions, were now completely scattered.
Knight Commander Bunyan was still properly serving as the Knight Commander; the merchant Lanmere was still smilingly doing business; The Clown was missing; the archaeology student Herman Grove was currently doing archaeology in the Ashless Lands with his mentor.
Chester Fitzroy was still properly working as a doctor and hadn’t become the first victim; the vagrant Bourne seemed to still be secretly making moves; Detective Jon Mansfield lost the apostate case but was currently investigating other cases.
There was also the one character Siles had not yet met—that foreign female bishop. She was supposed to come to the Duchy of Konst because of the apostate’s appearance, but she had not shown up yet. Siles didn’t even know which country she might be in.
The eight of them had broken free from the RPG scenario; they seemed to have embarked on their own destined paths, advancing toward the unknown mist. It was hard to say if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
For Siles, as the former Keeper of Secrets for these eight characters, he believed this might be a good thing.
The old story should end; the new journey should begin. In his vision, this was a very decent conclusion.
So, facing Chendo’s statement, Siles merely paused and said, “Indeed. However, he has also brought us new clues.”
Chendo did not deny this. He only emphasized, “But, you still can’t use that magnifying glass.” He muttered, “You having me is enough.”
Siles was both amused and helpless inwardly, but still said, “Of course, Chendo.”
Chendo seemed fully satisfied with this. He leaned against Siles and shifted the topic back to business: “So, we’ll go to this detective’s house this afternoon?”
“Yes, I am indeed very curious about that Marigold Cup,” Siles pondered for a while. “Actually, I think it’s a bit strange that the Marigold Cup appeared in a trash can.”
“Why?”
Siles said, “Throwing away a wig is easy to understand, but a Marigold Cup… don’t you think that even if it wasn’t thrown away, leaving it in the house wouldn’t attract any attention? It’s just a cup for drinking water.
“It’s precisely because it was thrown into the trash can that we paid attention to this cup. That’s the logic. But if we carefully consider this premise—’someone threw the Marigold Cup into the trash can.’
“Was this person’s action truly necessary?”
Chendo understood almost immediately: “You mean, someone is using this Marigold Cup to hint at something to us?”
“Yes. It should be a double hint. The Marigold Cup itself might hide a secret, and the act of throwing away the Marigold Cup is also hinting at something to us.”
“…Which means, someone is helping us?” Chendo said. “Is there a division within the group of masterminds?”
Siles nodded and added, “It’s just speculation.”
This speculation had emerged when they found Brewer Darrow’s body. Because someone had cleanly killed Brewer with a single strike, allowing him to die painlessly; yet, someone had also abused his corpse after he died.
“Your speculations always come true,” Chendo muttered in a low voice. “…Of course, I’m not saying you’re a prophet.”
Siles: “…”
He cast a suspicious glance at Chendo.
Chendo laughed. He always seemed unable to sit still, and now he secretly held Siles’s hand again, playing with those beautiful, slender fingers. He said, “I’m just captivated by your wisdom.”
During their conversation, Jon had finished chatting with the other patrons and returned. Seeing Chendo leaning lazily against Siles, he couldn’t help but pause slightly.
Of course, this seemingly young detective appeared to have weathered many storms and wasn’t at all shocked by the interaction between the two men.
He just paused briefly, then sat down across from them as if nothing was amiss, saying with a smile, “Gentlemen, I’ve had quite a good harvest.”
Siles squeezed Chendo’s fingers back, signaling the guy to sit properly. Chendo could only sigh helplessly and sit up straight, though he still held onto Siles’s hand.
Siles asked calmly, “Any new information?”
Jon said, “There’s a patron who came here to drown his sorrows. His child was previously hospitalized at Darwin Hospital in the West District, but just a few days later, the child, who could originally still converse with people, suddenly died from the illness.
“He said this dealt him a massive blow. After he and his wife organized the child’s funeral, they completely fell into despair. And as far as he knows, this kind of thing has happened quite a few times recently.”
Siles couldn’t help but frown and asked, “When did this happen?”
“Probably over the last ten or twenty days,” Jon said. “The man said his child didn’t make it through the New Year.”
“Did you ask him what specific illness his child had?”
“That’s not very clear,” Jon said. “The man had already drunk himself unconscious.”
Saying this, he pointed not far away. The man was slumped over the counter, drinking and crying, while people around him occasionally cast knowing and sympathetic glances.
Siles fell silent for a moment.
After a while, he said in a low voice, “So, the actions of Darwin Hospital in the West District are gradually becoming crazier. What stimulated them?”
As he said this, a possible speculation actually surfaced in his mind—Nona had told him in the dream that the doctors said other places already had a “Holy Child”, but they didn’t have one here.
Were they creating a “Holy Child”?
“It’s hard to say what Darwin Hospital is thinking,” Jon shrugged. “Perhaps it’s simply because winter is long and cold, and there are many patients, so they need to clear out some unimportant ones.”
“…By death?”
Jon said in a very casual tone, “The establishment of Darwin Hospital was essentially just those noble lords wanting to enjoy a reputation for charity while making money.
“The prices for medical treatment at this hospital are much higher than at others, yet because big shots stand behind it, it ironically gains the trust of the common people. And do you think the actual situation is truly like that?”
Siles thought, Could the actual situation be much crueler than Jon imagines?
Just to make money?
He couldn’t help but sigh.
Believing his statement had gained Siles’s approval, Jon nodded: “It seems you also agree with my thoughts. Have you actually been to Darwin Hospital?”
“I went to the one in the East District,” Siles said.
“Did you notice any problems?”
Siles shook his head.
Chendo chimed in, “If going inside the hospital could solve everything, things would be much simpler.”
“Mr. Praia is right,” Jon agreed. “True evil must certainly happen outside the hospital. Perhaps I should ask my colleagues about the behind-the-scenes investors of Darwin Hospital, or perhaps…”
Jon fell deep into thought.
A moment later, he suddenly snapped back to reality, smiled apologetically, and said, “It’s getting late. Perhaps we can talk somewhere else? How about going to my house to see the Marigold Cup and chat about the case?”
Jon’s home was located in the East District, roughly in the southwest, on one floor of a row of apartments along the Kanla River. Jon said he had bought two adjacent apartments, then knocked down the wall to remodel them into one large suite.
“I have a lot of materials to store,” Jon explained. “So I need a larger storage space.”
This explanation seemed impeccable and perfectly fit Jon’s profession as a detective. The spacious room, formed by joining the two apartments, was indeed full of wooden cabinets, drawers, and overflowing paper documents, just as Jon had said.
There weren’t many of Jon’s personal living items stored here. It seemed Jon treated this place more as a workspace than a place for daily rest and living.
Jon took the enamel cup engraved with marigolds out of one of the cabinets and handed it to Siles.
Before leaving the house this morning, because he was going to the Konst National Bank to review the Darrow family materials, Siles thought there might be some dangerous items hidden within. Therefore, he cautiously took a potion and wore the [Tranquil Heart] brooch.
Now, he smoothly put on [Akamara’s Eyeglass Frame], then walked to the window and quietly examined the cup.
A white cup body, brilliant golden flowers, and a slightly worn handle. The flowers were actually a whole bouquet, some blooming and some not, crowded together, looking exceptionally lush and brilliant, truly worthy of the beautiful name “Bride of the Sun.”
This looked like a cup that had been used frequently, judging by the signs of wear. However, it was abandoned in a trash can, neglected along with a long wig, until a nearby servant took it home, and until a detective found it.
“Is that wig also here with you?” Siles asked.
Jon nodded, then started rummaging through a pile of miscellaneous items. He said apologetically, “I have to look for it. It always gets mixed up with other things… Here it is!”
He picked up the wig. It was a wig that roughly reached the waist or hips, overall brown, and looked messy, as if its owner hadn’t cared to maintain it at all.
Jon said, “When I found this wig, it was in this state. I don’t know who would want to use such a messy wig.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
From his perspective, neither of these two items presented any special appearance; they were just an ordinary cup and wig. However, this made it seem even more bizarre.
“So, how did you find these two items?” Siles asked.
Jon thought for a moment and said, “You also know about the existence of the Detective Club. We heard about this matter back then and went together. When we arrived, the police and the group from the History Society had already left.
“We searched around the area. Then I noticed that trash can, thinking the murderer might have left some traces in it, so I went to take a look, and I actually found something.”
Saying this, he shrugged and added, “Very lucky, isn’t it?”
Siles narrowed his eyes.
Lucky?
However, neither the police nor the Second Corridor’s investigation reports mentioned a trash can. How exactly did Jon notice the trash can?
Siles weighed his tone, then said, “You investigated after the police and the History Society investigators left? I reviewed their investigation reports, and they didn’t notice the issue with the trash can.”
“Is that so?” Jon said in surprise, then shook his head. “As expected, just as I said before, they didn’t really investigate this matter seriously. And you know very well—”
He seemed to imply something, looking deeply at Siles.
He said, “You also know what the atmosphere in the History Society is like.”
Siles remained silent.
Jon seemed to be criticizing the History Society’s investigation for not being careful enough. And this aligned perfectly with his stance. But Siles felt a very subtle sense of incongruity.
This sense of incongruity came from…
He pondered for a moment, and finally said, “But, Jon, you are indeed a Revelator.” He spoke more plainly, “The History Society also sent Revelators to investigate. Why did they fail to discover the issue with the trash can, while you did?”
Jon had consistently avoided addressing this question. He blamed everything on the internal atmosphere of the History Society, attributing the oversight to the Second Corridor Revelators not being serious enough.
Yet in reality, the true answer needed to resolve this doubt was very simple: “Because I possess a good ritual.”
Siles wouldn’t actually ask what that ritual was. For a Revelator, that was a highly rude and offensive thing to do. Exactly what rituals and how many rituals a Revelator had mastered were highly private trump cards that had to be kept secret.
But Jon was unwilling to use any… simpler answer relating to his personal capabilities to explain Siles’s question.
Jon was avoiding talking about his personal capabilities, or rather, he was avoiding talking about how he discovered the issue with the trash can.
In reality, Siles was also not quite sure how strong this detective was. On the character card, Detective Jon’s Spirituality was a moderate number; and in their past few interactions, including in the kitchen after the banquet, Jon hadn’t displayed any of his abilities.
Siles looked at this elusive detective, his eyes darkening slightly. Chendo stood beside him, his hand already in his pocket, probably feeling for a specific word on a piece of paper.
Jon stood there, casually tossing the wig aside. He smiled playfully and then said, “You are suspecting me—Professor Noel, may I understand it that way?”
Siles said frankly and coldly, “Yes.”
Because of Jon’s unclear stance, and his vague implications.
Jon was silent for a moment, then couldn’t help but sigh. He shrugged and said, “Alright, alright… I knew it wouldn’t be this easy to cover up my true actions. You are truly a sharp person, Professor.”
The tense atmosphere seemed to suddenly relax again.
“Since I am a Revelator, you might have also guessed that what I am investigating is actually not that simple. And the reason I didn’t tell you everything is…”
Jon paused.
He looked out the window. The house was located on the banks of the Kanla River, offering a view of the staggered houses in Lamifa City’s West District across the river. A trace of confusion almost flashed in his eyes, but the emotion vanished in a flash, unnoticed by anyone.
“I believe someone is carrying out a massive conspiracy.”
Siles was slightly taken aback.
“And it’s not just some Old God followers causing trouble in secret,” Jon said in a low voice, as if afraid of startling something. “It’s… an existence in the ‘shadows’.”
“Shadows.” Siles was abruptly startled.
He seemed to suddenly understand why Jon was unwilling to bring this up.
He blurted out without thinking, “You thought I didn’t know about the existence of ‘shadows,’ so you were unwilling to share what you were investigating, and wanted to use other excuses to divert my attention, is that right?”
Jon stared at Siles in shock.
Siles slightly narrowed his eyes: “The Marigold Cup… the Bride of the Sun… I always thought the Darrow family massacre was an incident related to Lusmi. The God of Stars and Light… that Star.
“But you mentioned shadows. So, is someone acting under Lusmi’s name? And in reality, everything is connected to the shadows behind it?”
“…Wait, wait!” Jon said in astonishment, “How do you know so much?!”
Siles didn’t answer this question, merely looking calmly at Jon. Under that gaze, Jon felt as if his entire being had been crushed. The secrets he was trying to hide seemed to be completely transparent to Professor Siles Noel sitting before him.
Finally, Jon seemed to suddenly deflate. He said, “Alright, I am willing to tell you these things. I just hope you can keep them a secret.”
As he said this, Siles’s aura gradually became peaceful. He held the hand of Chendo beside him, smiled slightly, and said, “Of course.”
Subsequently, they sat down and had a long and far more candid conversation.
According to Jon’s account, the reason he got involved in the investigation of the Darrow family massacre wasn’t, as he had previously claimed, because he had inadvertently heard about the case at the detective club and tagged along with other detectives. In fact, he had noticed the existence of the Darrow family much earlier.
He said the reason he noticed this family was because, while helping some other noble families investigate certain… less-than-respectable matters, he had heard about the past of this declining house. This family came from a foreign country, which to many people seemed to imply that they hid certain secrets—outsiders, foreigners. People with such identities seemingly naturally carried certain mysteries.
Jon possessed the typical curiosity of a detective, so he also took an interest in the Darrow family. This interest peaked when he realized that the last heir of the Darrow family was about to become engaged to a woman of unknown origin.
“A woman of unknown origin?” Chendo asked with some confusion. “But a noble family couldn’t possibly accept a woman with such an identity, right?”
“Yes,” Jon nodded, “I thought so too, but they did indeed intend for their sole heir to get engaged to this woman. I had seen that woman once… she had a kind of…”
Jon hesitated for a moment, as if not knowing how to describe it.
Finally, he said, “That woman herself was like an out-of-control Time Trace. I don’t know if you can understand this concept. She possessed an extremely terrifying attraction.”
Siles’s heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t help but think of Brewer’s description back then—the feeling of a “believer meeting a god.” Brewer had said that when he saw his fiancée, it was just like a believer meeting a god.
Jon had seen Marina at the engagement ceremony between Brewer and that woman—Marina Kellan. He said that woman had long brown hair, deep blue eyes, and extremely pale skin.
“Long brown hair?” Siles couldn’t help but glance at the wig.
Jon nodded, then shook his head: “I can’t be sure if she was wearing a wig. If that’s the case, then her appearance might have also been disguised.”
Siles nodded slowly. A long time ago, they had already concluded that Marina Kellan must be a fake name, a fake identity, and also a fake appearance.
“You had seen that Marina,” Chendo couldn’t help but say, “Didn’t you try to look for this person?”
“Of course I tried,” Jon said, then added, “But to no avail. It was as if that woman simply disappeared.”
“So how did you know this case was connected to the ‘shadows’?” Siles asked.
Jon hesitated. This point seemed very important to him, so before this, he hadn’t revealed it to anyone—at least, judging from his behavior, that was indeed the case.
However, Jon didn’t hesitate for too long. He then said, “Because, inside that trash can, I actually didn’t just pick up a wig.”
Both Siles and Chendo couldn’t help but freeze for a moment.
“What else?” Siles said calmly.
“…A painting,” Jon said slowly. “It looked like a sketch, depicting Atherton Square and Lamifa City, very beautifully and meticulously drawn, but above in the sky were heavy, pitch-black shadows, as if covering the entirety of Lamifa City. It was as if something existed within those shadows, and was restless and ready to make a move.”
Following Jon’s words, a storm gradually surged in Siles’s heart. He thought, That painting? That painting?!
That painter! he couldn’t help but think.
After revealing the existence of this painting, Jon also breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He smiled bitterly and said, “I don’t want to hide it from you… when I saw this painting, I suffered extremely severe spiritual pollution. I believe perhaps because of this, the Revelators from the History Society didn’t go investigate that trash can. They might have intentionally or unintentionally ignored the situation with the trash can, or perhaps it was…”
Jon paused at this point, not offering another guess.
However, Siles actually had a thought regarding this guess. He thought, perhaps it was because Jon’s Spirituality was higher? Higher than the Revelators who arrived at the scene, so he coincidentally managed to notice the issue with the trash can. Just like the space behind the door of the History Society, if one’s Spirituality wasn’t up to standard, ordinary people could only see an ordinary room; only when Spirituality reached a certain standard could one possibly see that grand and wonderfully massive room.
…But this also meant that Jon’s strength was probably far greater than he had imagined, Siles thought to himself.
Jon shook his head, not thinking deeply about this question. He continued, “Anyway, I instinctively hid that painting on my person, but inadvertently leaked the fact that I found a wig in the trash can. At that time, I was actually already somewhat crazed; otherwise, I couldn’t have impulsively gone around investigating everywhere; after all, that painting was truly too bizarre… However, fortunately because of this, I was able to find that Marigold Cup.”
He revealed a complex expression, then changed the subject: “So, Professor Noel, I’m afraid you should be able to understand why I am so grateful to you. Your Replicating the Self ritual indeed helped me, allowing me to rid myself of that kind of pollution as much as possible.”
Siles slowly nodded.
At this moment, the question he was pondering in his heart was: he had clearly also seen that painting, so why didn’t he suffer severe pollution like Jon did?
…Because the painting wasn’t finished at the time? Because he inadvertently frightened that painter, resulting in the destruction of that painting?
Next, Jon explained the reason why he knew this matter was connected to the “shadows”.
After being polluted, he wanted to eradicate such pollution, and thus came into contact with some people who had suffered similar pollution. He learned from them that the “shadows” in the sky were not Lusmi as he had thought, but something else entirely.
They stated with utmost certainty that this pollution was different. They even said that they knew a person who had very in-depth research on the existence of “shadows”, but that person had gone missing. They suspected that person had already been swallowed by the “shadows”.
So, this group advised Jon not to inform anyone about the existence of the “shadows”, lest he invite disaster upon himself, or implicate others. However—this group had said mysteriously—there did indeed exist a group of people who used Lusmi to cover up their true faith, and vainly attempted to do something in Lamifa City.
Jon was half-believing and half-doubting their claims, but he had indeed remained silent the whole time, not leaking the matter of the “shadows”. Furthermore, as he used the Replicating the Self ritual, his mental state also slowly improved, so he became even more determined to treat the matter cautiously.
…Until today, when Siles suddenly exposed his disguise.
Following Jon’s account, Siles couldn’t help but think: this so-called person with very in-depth research on the “shadows”, couldn’t be Professor Cabel, could it?
He had already asked that journal editor to help find Professor Cabel’s paper, but hadn’t received any response yet. After all, it was something from several years ago, so it seemed quite normal for it to take a bit of time.
After Jon finished speaking, all three of them fell into a brief silence.
Finally, Siles summarized the matter: “So, there is a group of people, acting under the guise of Lusmi believers, secretly carrying out a conspiracy. This conspiracy is connected to the ‘shadows’. For this conspiracy, they cruelly massacred the Darrow family, for unknown purposes. Afterwards, they vanished without a trace, whereabouts unknown, but are indeed hiding in the dark. It is highly likely that there are companions with inconsistent stances among them, which is why they left some clues for us. Even though, right now, we still cannot well interpret what these clues mean.”
Speaking up to this point, he pondered for a moment, then asked, “Is there anything else that needs to be added?”
Both Jon and Chendo shook their heads.
Siles thought for a while, and then thought to himself: overall, aside from confirming that the painter was indeed connected to this incident, and that Jon would also become a helper in investigating this matter in the future, they didn’t seem to have made any investigative progress.
This point made him sigh inwardly. However, he didn’t show it in front of Jon.
He checked the time and found that it was already past two o’clock. They had eaten something earlier at the Ernestine Tavern, so they weren’t hungry now, but mental exhaustion was unavoidable.
So Siles said, “Then, Jon, we can investigate this case together in the future and exchange information. The address here is?”
Jon provided the address of the place.
Siles memorized it, then nodded and said, “I understand. I am going to investigate some of the Darrow family’s past next. If there is any news, I will inform you.”
Jon smiled and said, “I am looking forward to it very much.”
After leaving Jon’s house, Chendo finally asked, “What do you think…?”
“What do I think?”
Siles held Chendo’s hand and took a deep breath, letting the cold winter wind wake his brain up. He said, “I think Jon is still hiding something.”
They walked forward along the banks of the Kanla River. As it happened, after about a twenty-minute walk, they would arrive at their afternoon destination—the Konst National Bank. So they simply decided to walk over.
Siles added, “Perhaps the things Jon is hiding are related to his privacy, but regardless, he wasn’t truly being open and honest.”
Precisely because of this, Siles didn’t reveal all the information on his side either. There were mainly three suspicious points in Jon’s words.
First, Jon still avoided the question of why he could notice the trash can, unwilling to give a clear answer. And it was exactly this question that aroused Siles’s suspicion towards Jon. Was it really because Jon’s Spirituality was so high that he could discover things others couldn’t? But was it really necessary for Jon to try so hard to hide his strength?
Second, Jon didn’t explain in detail what concept the “shadows” actually were among the group of people he encountered. God? Pollution? Some unknown power? He maintained a neutral silence. Right when they were about to investigate this thing called “shadows” together, Jon failed to be honest with information. This was fatal for cooperation.
And the third point was something Siles only realized in hindsight. Jon stood in opposition to the History Society. However, he was willing to cooperate with Siles.
…Siles was currently the popular figure inside the History Society. Even though Jon seemed to have been trying to rope Siles in, Siles had never shown a clear stance of being on Jon’s side.
For Jon to so easily reveal the information he knew, as if he were truly that friendly and sincere… was that really the case?
Siles thought for a moment, then couldn’t help but shake his head. He shared his thoughts with Chendo, then sighed and said, “It truly is a cloud of fog.”
“Then there’s absolutely no need for you to cooperate with him. He’s not sincere at all,” Chendo said, carrying a bit of innate arrogance, though he indeed didn’t like Jon much. “He might intentionally mislead us.”
“We do have to watch out for that. Jon’s stance remains insufficiently clear,” Siles said softly. “Remaining vigilant is necessary.”
Chendo suddenly chuckled softly.
Siles glanced at him.
“…I just thought of what happened when we were in the Ashless Lands. You should know this,” Chendo said. “A safe city and the Ashless Lands are ultimately different.”
Siles acknowledged this.
But he still changed the subject: “We’ve arrived at the bank.”
The Konst National Bank was also located on the banks of the Kanla River. Separated by a river, to the west was gray, dirty, abandoned land, while to the east was the magnificent, elegantly decorated bank. This kind of contrast could always be found in Lamifa City, especially on both sides of the Kanla River.
They walked into the bank. Siles handed the authorization letter to the bank manager. Soon, the manager led them to a separate small room.
He said elegantly and gently: “According to the authorization letter, you can stay in the room for two hours to find the materials you need. You can take the materials away, but you need to sign a liability statement and return them within a week. Furthermore, this authorization letter will become void immediately upon use; please be clear on this point.”
Siles nodded, indicating he understood.
Subsequently, the manager used a complex key to open the door to the room, then invited them in.
Inside was a slightly dimly lit small room, with no windows, occupying an area of about twenty square meters. In total, there were five shelves arranged from front to back, filled with documents on top. Siles and Chendo walked in.
The manager closed the door, leaving only Siles and Chendo in this enclosed space.
Chendo’s emerald eyes looked at Siles.
Siles said, unmoved: “There are materials in Konst text and Kansas text here, respectively; we’ll each search for them. You mainly look for that conversation record.”
“…Alright,” Chendo could only say. “As you command.”
They then went into action separately. Because they only had a total of two hours, their actions involuntarily sped up.
But soon, Siles realized that they could actually find the desired materials very quickly, especially the Kansas batch.
In less than ten minutes, Chendo said he had already found it.
Siles then walked up to him and looked at that… very ancient file, which looked like parchment. The writing on it was a certain foreign text that Siles didn’t recognize.
Chendo said, “This portion of the Kansas text materials is archived in chronological order, making it very easy to find. I imagine it’s because the Darrow family had already organized it well themselves, and then it was placed here untouched by the History Society.”
Siles couldn’t help but nod, thinking this was highly likely.
“The conversation record…” Chendo said thoughtfully, “Aldous Gershwin… and, Graves Darrow Klimo… Graves Klimo?”
“Do you know this person?” Siles detected a certain peculiarity in his tone.
Chendo rubbed his chin and said a bit uncertainly, “I have a slight impression… but I’m not sure when I heard this name. I might need a moment to think. However, ‘Darrow’ seems to be this person’s middle name.”
“So, this family’s true surname should be… Klimo?”
“I’ve never heard of that surname,” Siles said quite frankly.
“I don’t have much of an impression of it either.” Chendo shook his head.
Siles then asked, “You said you ‘heard’ this name. So, did someone mention this name to you?”
“Someone mentioned it to me…” Chendo fell into deep thought.
Siles didn’t interrupt his thinking; he continued flipping through the relevant Konst text materials.
To be honest, he really did find a few interesting books inside, but considering these books could only be taken away for a week, Siles was struggling to figure out a schedule.
Suddenly, his shoulder sank. Chendo tilted his head and leaned on his shoulder, nuzzling affectionately—in this enclosed space for two, his movements were clearly much more brazen.
“What is it?” Siles asked.
Chendo said, “I remembered. What reward will you give me?”
Ever since realizing that Siles was a person who strongly adhered to the principle of reciprocity, Chendo had become increasingly justified and confident in demanding perks.
Siles chuckled softly and said, “A kiss witnessed by all the materials and books of the Darrow family?”
“Uh… that sounds a bit…” Chendo thought for a moment, “…creepy.”
Siles turned sideways, gave him a hug, and then said, “Then I’ll give you your reward when we get back. So, what did you remember?”
“It was the old man from the Praia family who told me,” Chendo said. “I’m not too sure… it seems it was when I was a child. I wasn’t very obedient back then, but his attitude towards me had always been very… respectful.
“However, sometimes he would still educate me, bringing up some examples, hoping I would learn aristocratic etiquette and grace, and among them, he mentioned this Graves Klimo.
“He apparently became an… outcast of the Klimo family? Even quite a famous one, because he always associated with some less-than-respectable ‘lower-class’ people.
“I’m using this term because that’s exactly what the old man said back then. That phrase left a rather deep impression on me, which is why I can remember it now.
“Now, I think those… ‘lower-class’ people Graves Klimo associated with might actually refer to the wandering poets.”
Saying this, Chendo smiled sarcastically.
“How bizarre. When the old man said that back then, he couldn’t have imagined that those ‘lower-class’ people he despised were precisely the devout believers of Ligadia. In the realm of faith, the wandering poets were perhaps even more devout and closer to the deity than he was.”
This statement stirred a complex feeling within Siles.
After a moment, he said, “Chendo, do you think faith is ultimately a good thing or a bad thing?”
Chendo thought for a while, then said slyly, “I think a person won’t necessarily die without faith, but I would definitely die without you.”
Siles was taken aback for a second, then couldn’t help but laugh helplessly.
Chendo seemed to possess a wondrous ability—he could twist any matter and any topic, ultimately leading it back to a confession of love for Siles.
However, Chendo was right about at least one thing, Siles thought to himself.
A person might not die without faith.
But what about a god?
They continued to linger among the archives of this family with its weighty history. Siles asked Chendo to pick out some suitable books for him—the ones in Kansas text—while he was also making selections himself.
Chendo asked suspiciously, “Can you really finish reading all these in a week?”
Siles said firmly, “But there’s only this one chance, I have to at least try.”
Chendo: “…”
Compared to him, his beloved deity certainly loved books more.
Chendo gloomily yet obediently began picking out books for Siles—and then he grew even more depressed upon realizing that since they were in Kansas text, Siles would definitely need him to translate.
…It felt like he was handing over his beloved Professor Noel to the “books” on a silver platter.
But when he actually placed the books he had carefully selected in front of Siles, when he saw Siles’s sincere eyes, full of gratitude and joy, he couldn’t help but think: his beloved deity was enjoying the things he loved.
That was something that also made him feel immensely happy, Chendo thought.
