Chapter 231 DepartureTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2170 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-23 23:53:17
Outside the window, the Tussock River flows quietly. The winter sun shines through the thin mist onto the river. The tiny dots of light are like dancing elves, embellishing Backlund's winter. Davis stands in front of the window, lowering his head and concentrating on sketching. The sun shines through the window glass, coating his hands and the paper with a layer of warm gold.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, breaking the silence in the room. Davis paused for a moment and looked up at the door. Eric pushed the door open with a relaxed smile on his face.
"Davis, are you ready? You promised the kids today." His tone seemed casual, but it revealed a hint of anticipation.
Davis nodded, put the pen on the table, and looked out the window at the peaceful river again. He seemed to be trying to draw the last bit of peace from this silence. "Let's go," he said, his tone calm but firm.
The two walked out of the house, and the biting cold wind hit them in the face, causing Davis to wrap his coat tightly. Backlund was cold and damp in winter, and the air was filled with a faint frost. There was a carriage parked outside the door, and the driver was driving the horses to keep warm. The two boarded the carriage, and the wheels began to roll over the cobblestone road, making a rhythmic rumbling sound, and drove towards the East District.
After entering the East District, the scene outside the window gradually changed. Familiar street scenes kept passing by, with the dilapidated streets intertwined with the remaining vitality. Davis looked out the window quietly, and his thoughts could not help but return to the smog that completely changed the East District.
That was more than a month ago.
After the thick fog cleared, the East District was like the afterimage of a nightmare. Although the fog gradually dissipated, the heavy atmosphere was like an invisible yoke, covering every street and every dilapidated building. The air was mixed with the pungent smell of disinfectant and the smell of corruption, making people feel oppressive in their chests every time they breathed. The occasional cold wind swept by with dust, as if warning the living here: the nightmare is not far away.
Davis still remembers what the dilapidated streets and alleys looked like. The doors of the shops were closed, the windows were covered with thick dust, the newspapers scattered in the newsstands on the corners were soaked by moisture, and the blurred headlines vaguely read the words "death toll", which were engraved like a knife in people's hearts. The empty carriage stations and dilapidated benches on the roadside, covered with muddy ashes, seemed to silently state the aftermath of the disaster.
What is even more unforgettable is the appearance of the slums. The collapsed roofs, cracked walls, and tattered curtains swaying in the wind seem to silently tell of a desolate scene. Those who are rummaging through the ruins have mechanical movements and dull eyes, just as broken as the environment they are in.
The "shelter" became the last refuge for people, but even here it seemed stretched. The long queues outside the dilapidated church, the residents shivering in the cold wind, and the meager relief supplies made everyone's expressions even more empty. The thin figures of the children huddled in their mothers' arms, their faces marked by hunger and cold, and the mothers' eyes had long lost their vitality, leaving only mechanical movements and numbness to the unknown.
The air is filled not only with the heaviness brought by the thick fog, but also with an irreconcilable despair. This is a land that seems to have lost time, and every minute and every second is long and painful.
Davis will never forget the scene on the street that day. He walked through those streets, no longer observing data and recording calmly as before, but witnessed real life withering in the thick fog, and dreams being ruthlessly crushed. He saw the old woman who used to sell fruit at the street corner, found dead in her dilapidated hut, with only a few blackened apples left on the stall. The young worker in the shed, full of hope, tightly grasped the unsent letter from home, and the blurred handwriting on the envelope vaguely read "Dear Mother". And the girl, whose dream once moved him, but on that day, she closed her eyes and raised the corners of her mouth slightly, as if she was still in an unfinished dream.
The fate of the children who survived the ritual hurt Davis even more. A boy crouched under an abandoned porch, holding a tattered doll, with a body covered in rags behind him. That was his mother. Another girl stood by the rubble, holding a photo in her hand. The person in the photo smiled brightly, but her eyes were empty and blank.
Those children were still alive, but they seemed to have lost their souls. The ritual protected their lives, but it took away their families, their support and warmth. Their helpless eyes, mixed with confusion and loneliness, pierced Davis' heart like a sharp blade. Every step he took was like stepping into a quagmire of depression, and every breath he took was accompanied by a faint pain.
That day, Davis understood a truth: life is not a number, and tragedy is not a simple record. The eyes of those children were not full of resentment, but full of questions. They seemed to be saying to him: "Can you still remain indifferent?"
His answer was just one word: "No."
When the determination at this moment broke through the fog in his heart like thunder, Davis felt a heavy sense of relief. His heart beat more vigorously, as if some long-deposited power had finally been awakened. At that moment, he realized that the last trace of magic potion in his body was also completely digested in this thought. Its residual feeling, like some kind of deep-seated restraint, completely dissipated with this determination.
The scene of memory reappeared - the figure was looming in the thick fog, and the cold female voice still lingered in his ears, as if whispering, or warning. His heartbeat accelerated with the surge of memories, and every detail brought a certain invisible sense of oppression, gradually swallowing up the boundaries of reason. Although everything seemed blurry and even blurred at that time, as if it was an illusion swallowed by the fog, Davis knew that he had already engraved that figure in his heart.
No matter what, he knew that if he met her again, he would not hesitate. He could recognize her, see through her disguise, and ruthlessly reveal her true face. Because he knew that she was the culprit behind all this.
But what he couldn't ignore was the unexpected person in the thick fog - Professor Steve. It was he who led him into the extraordinary world and opened the door to the unknown. Davis's mood became complicated. Professor Steve was not only his mentor, but also the person who showed him the way when he was most confused. The professor's wisdom and calmness seemed to open up a new perspective for him, allowing him to begin to see clearly this world full of unknowns and dangers.
However, in retrospect, Davis clearly remembered that there was an undisguised eagerness and desire in the professor's eyes. This emotion was not like an obsession with academics, nor was it a thirst for knowledge. Instead, it was a hidden goal, as if something vital was quietly approaching. But that emotion was elusive, and Davis could never fully interpret it.
Now, as time went by, he suddenly had a strong feeling that the professor seemed to be looking for that "person" as well.Chapter 232 DetectiveTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2339 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-24 17:30:11
North District, Professor Steve's home.
It was not Davis' first time here, but when he stepped into this familiar house, he immediately felt an unusual sense of desolation. The furniture was still neatly placed in its original place, but it lacked a sense of life, as if no one had really lived there for a long time.
The heavy curtains blocked most of the light, with only a faint glow coming through the gaps, spilling onto the floor like broken lines.
He stood at the entrance, looking around gently, and an indescribable sense of change rose in his heart. This was not the external dilapidation, but an invisible sense of alienation, as if the owner of this place was being dragged off the normal track by some silent force. He held his breath, and could only hear his own heartbeat in his ears.
This feeling was inexplicable, but he vaguely felt that it might be related to the professor's condition - a strangeness that even the professor himself had not noticed.
Professor Steve appeared at the end of the corridor, looking normal, and greeted Davis in a gentle tone. Without much greeting, he led Davis into the study as usual. The study was neatly arranged, and the books on the bookshelf were arranged in a rigorous and orderly manner as always, but the light from the window could hardly penetrate, making the whole space seem dark and quiet.
The professor closed the door, and then with a calm and practiced movement, he sealed the entire room with his spiritual power. With a soundless wave, the air around him seemed to solidify, forming a safe barrier that completely isolated the outside world.
"Okay, Greylint," Professor Steve turned around and looked at Davis, with a faint smile on his face. "Don't keep hiding yourself. At least you are safe now."
Davis was slightly stunned, then nodded, and gently touched the extraordinary props on his waist with his fingers. With a hidden spiritual wave, his disguise quietly dissipated. His originally ordinary appearance gradually returned to his true appearance. The air seemed to stagnate at that moment, and the silence in the study made this action appear particularly clear.
He was about to speak, but the professor took the lead. Professor Steve nodded slightly, his eyes lingering on Davis' face for a moment, as if confirming something, and then said: "Grillant, I know what you want to know from me. Sorry, I can't find that person either."
Davis was shocked, but he soon realized that the words were not as bland as they sounded. In the professor's low voice, he keenly caught a hint of almost imperceptible emotional fluctuations. What concerned him more was the deep murderous intent in the professor's eyes - the murderous intent was suppressed to the point of being almost imperceptible, but like a sharp blade, quietly hidden in its sheath.
Professor Steve calmly withdrew his gaze, his expression normal, as if what he just said was just an insignificant reply. But Davis understood that every word the professor said was carefully considered, and the murderous intent hidden deep in his eyes might be because when he mentioned "that person", a memory that he didn't want to touch was torn open.
The air was still silent. The existence of the spiritual barrier made the entire study seem like an enclosed island. Even time seemed to be blocked in this space. Greylint's drooping eyelids concealed a momentary fluctuation. He slowly raised his head, his eyes were cold, but his tone was surprisingly calm.
"I saw it, just before you arrived." Greylint said lightly.
This sentence is like a stone thrown into still water. It is calm on the surface, but it stirs up ripples in the dark.
Professor Steve's brows moved slightly, and although it was fleeting, it was still caught by Gregant. He did not respond immediately, but narrowed his eyes slightly, as if trying to capture deeper information from Gregant's expression.
"What did you see?" The professor's voice was low and calm, but there was a hint of oppression.
Grellint did not answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes slightly out of focus, as if he was recalling something.
Then, he turned his gaze back to the professor, his tone calm, but with a weight that could not be ignored.
"I saw her, heard her voice, and felt her spiritual fluctuations. She was standing right in front of me." He spoke slowly and clearly, and every word seemed to be deliberately placed in the air, causing an invisible ripple.
Professor Steve's eyes suddenly darkened, and the deep murderous intent could no longer be completely concealed. It was no longer a blade hidden deep inside, but like a scabbard being gently pushed open, the sharp cold light began to faintly reveal itself. He did not speak, nor did he make any unnecessary movements, but just put his hands behind his back, his eyes as sharp as a hawk, firmly locked on Greylint, as if waiting for him to speak further.
The atmosphere in the room became even more stagnant. The spiritual barrier blocked all external interference, and this space seemed to be isolated from time. It was so quiet that one could even hear one's own breathing clearly.
Grellint could sense the probing and vigilance in the professor's eyes. That scrutiny was not just about listening to his answer, but more like dissecting his heart layer by layer, evaluating his current position and abilities one by one.
The silence seemed to last for a long time, until Professor Steve sighed softly, breaking the stagnant silence. His voice was not loud, but it was like a heavy hammer hitting Greylint's heart.
"You are too weak." The professor's words were plain but to the point, without any embellishment or a hint of sympathy.
Grellint's pupils shrank slightly, but he did not speak, just looked at the professor quietly. He knew that this was not a simple evaluation, but more like a harsh judgment.
"Faced with a Beyonder who has a high probability of becoming a demigod," the professor continued, his tone calm but with a hint of oppression, "you can't even look at her directly. Even her spiritual fluctuations can make you uneasy...Grelint, do you know what this means?"
Greylint raised his head, his eyes were steady and firm, and his tone revealed a strength that was hard to ignore: "I know that I have to grow up quickly. Grow to the point where I can look her in the face."
He looked directly at Professor Steve, without a trace of retreat in his eyes, only a faint desire to fight. This was not blind self-confidence, but a calm and sober understanding of the current situation. He knew that mortals could not look directly at gods, and that was not simply cowardice or weakness, but the root cause of the difference in spiritual nature.
The existence of gods and spirits is far beyond the comprehension of mortals. Even a brief contact is enough to cause spiritual disorder, mental breakdown, and even complete madness.
However, it was precisely because he understood this that he became more determined. Facing the fear of the unknown and the oppression of the spirit, he did not retreat, but was determined to grope forward in the fog. Only by moving forward can he see the truth.
"Have you digested your potion?" Professor Steve suddenly spoke, his tone calm but straight to the point, as if he had seen through everything.
Grellant did not respond, but nodded slightly. His eyes met the professor's, and he neither showed off nor concealed, but simply admitted it frankly.
"What is the essence of a detective?" The professor did not wait for an answer and continued, "It is to discover one's own human nature."
His voice was low and slow, as if to press the weight of this sentence deeply into the air of the room. Professor Steve's eyes fell on Greylint, with a complex meaning, like an evaluation, but also as if waiting for some kind of response.
"So, I won't persuade you." The professor paused for a moment, then changed the subject, "I can even tell you - I can help you fully digest Sequence 6 'Scholar' in a very short period of time."Chapter 233 Mental BarrierTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2158 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-25 23:48:03
Grellant's pupils shrank slightly, but he quickly calmed down. He did not respond immediately, but remained silent, looking at the professor with a scrutinizing gaze. He knew very well that Professor Steve would not bring up such a topic for no reason, and would not make such a promise easily. There must be some unspoken price hidden in this.
Professor Steve saw through his doubts and smiled calmly, with a hint of mystery in his tone: "You should understand the price of digesting the sequence quickly. Not to mention, the deeper you go, the more temptations and corruption you will face will increase exponentially."
Grellint's expression remained calm, but his heart was in turmoil. He knew what the professor said was true - extraordinary power was never a free gift, especially at the critical moment of sequence promotion. The instability of power would not only deepen the erosion of the self, but also make people lost in the endless abyss and become the thing they feared the most.
"So, is this a test?" Greylint asked calmly, without any emotion in his tone, but his eyes were as sharp as a knife.
"Maybe." The professor did not deny it, but nodded calmly, then chuckled, "Or maybe it's just a little selfish of mine."
The air in the study became quiet again. In the space isolated by the spiritual barrier, only the gazes of the two people seemed to form a silent confrontation. The silence between them was not a deadlock, but a deep exploration, as if each of them was trying to understand the unspoken part of the other.
…
"Davis, we're almost there."
The voice in his ear brought Davis back to reality. He raised his head and looked at Eric beside him, and found that they were close to their destination.
The road to the school was not long, and the scenery along the way looked particularly peaceful under the winter mist. However, Eric could not stop the doubts in his heart. He glanced at Davis calmly and pondered in his heart.
Over the past month, Davis seemed to have become a different person. His temperament was deeper than before, and his eyes occasionally showed a bit of indifference and insight, which Eric could not ignore. He always felt that Davis must have experienced a lot, but chose to hide a lot of things - those things, he did not mention to anyone.
Eric shook his head, trying to put these thoughts aside. He thought to himself, "Maybe I'm overthinking, or... he's just affected by the smog like me. Recently, many people have said that I've changed." He smiled to himself and then looked towards the school gate in front of him.
Davis glanced at Eric sideways, as if he noticed his gaze, but said nothing. The carriage slowly stopped, and the two got out of the car. The cold winter wind blew in their faces, making Davis subconsciously wrap his coat tightly.
However, after entering the school gate, the warmth that hit him quickly dispelled the chill, and he couldn't help but take off his coat and put it on his arm. The atmosphere in the school was still full of vitality, and the laughter of children came from the classroom, forming a sharp contrast with the silence of winter.
"Children, your Mr. Davis is back!" Eric shouted in an exaggerated tone as soon as he entered the room, causing students in the corridor to look out. Davis looked at him helplessly, but there was a barely perceptible smile on the corner of his mouth.
He did disappear for a while, but he didn't explain much. To the outside world, he just told Eric and others that he needed to travel and investigate the styles of the territories of several future partners. In fact, he left Backlund with Professor Steve and went to the island that summoned the messenger.
That period was the most intense and fulfilling time in Davis' life. On the island, facing the loneliness of the sea and the endless starry sky, he learned various abilities under the guidance of Professor Steve, and also received training in exploring the spirit world. The professor led him to go deep into the spirit world to experience those mysterious places that disappeared in reality but still existed in the spirit world. The scenes in the spirit world were strange and awe-inspiring. Those hidden relics and obscure information silently told the truth of the extraordinary world, and also made Davis more aware of his insignificance and responsibility.
A few days ago, under the protection of the wings of the professor's messenger, Hachiraspiah, Davis finally took the Sequence 5 potion. At that moment, he felt that the spiritual world had opened its door for him, and countless unknown information surged in like a tide, trying to penetrate the wings and hit his spirituality. His astral body also sensed a grand world at that moment - that was the astral world, the ultimate source of all mystic arts. Everything there was mysterious and dangerous, like a vast ocean of stars, with indescribable temptation and majesty.
In this brief moment of enlightenment, he understood his own insignificance and his own urgency. The mysteries of the astral world were not something he could fully bear at present. He needed more time to stabilize his spirituality and mind, otherwise, no matter the erosion of the spiritual world or the vastness of the astral world, he would find it difficult to maintain his self.
Finally, he made it through. At that moment, his spiritual depths underwent a transformation, and he was successfully promoted to Sequence 5 - "Instructor of Mystic Arts". When he returned from the spirit world, he not only had a deeper understanding of the nature of the extraordinary, but also realized that the purity of human nature was the strongest barrier against the erosion of magic potions.
He hung his coat on the hanger by the door and looked at everything familiar here - those laughing children, those eyes full of hope for the future. He took a deep breath, as if to engrave these emotions deeply in his heart. Or perhaps, these pure emotions were the key to his ability to resist the erosion of the potion and maintain his original heart.
Eric seemed to notice his absent-mindedness, reached out and patted his shoulder, and said with a smile: "Davis, I can see that you have gained a lot from this trip. Your whole temperament is different. Even the children said, 'Mr. Davis has become more energetic.'"
Davis came back to his senses and raised a faint smile: "Maybe it's because we have walked far and seen a lot, people will always change." His tone was understated, as if those experiences were not worth telling to outsiders, but only he knew how many unspeakable struggles and dangers were hidden behind them.
"So what are your next plans?" Eric asked curiously.
Davis looked out the window, his eyes deep, but his tone calm: "Keep going. Make more money and help more people."
Eric was slightly stunned, as if he was surprised by such an answer, but he nodded and smiled: "Sounds good, like your usual style."
He always felt that Davis's experience during this period was much more complicated than "travel", but he also understood that everyone had their own secrets. So he did not ask any more questions, but just changed the subject and described some changes in the school.
Davis' eyes softened as he listened to Eric's story, but he knew clearly in his heart that no matter how rare this daily warmth was, reality no longer allowed him to stop.Chapter 234 SecretTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2243 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-26 17:30:03
When I came out of school, it was completely dark. The cold winter wind mixed with dampness and chill, swirling on the empty streets. There were no carriages on the roadside, and occasionally there were scattered pedestrians hurriedly passing by, with their heads down, as if they didn't want to leave too many traces in this silent night.
Davis stood outside the school gate, his eyes swept across the empty streets, his brows slightly furrowed. His sight fell on the dim street lights in the distance, the light seemed lonely and distant, outlining a deserted scene.
"The East District still hasn't recovered." He said softly, with a hint of heaviness in his voice that was hard to conceal.
"Yes, that incident had a huge impact." Eric stood beside him and nodded, with a bit of helplessness in his tone. He looked up and around with a complicated look in his eyes, "After the haze dissipated, although it seemed that everything was recovering, in fact... some things can't be brought back. People's lives, the vitality of the neighborhood, and those who disappeared."
Davis was silent for a moment, looking into the distance with deep eyes. As the cold wind blew, he pulled the collar of his coat, and a hint of obscurity flashed across his eyes. He knew the consequences of that incident better than anyone else. It was not only the material destruction, but also the tearing of people's hearts.
"At least, we can still see some hope." Davis whispered, his tone was calm, but there was a hint of self-comfort. His eyes fell on a small shop in the distance that had not yet closed. The light shone through the window glass on the ground, like a rare touch of vitality in the night.
"Hope?" Eric turned his head to look at Davis, seemingly disagreeing, "Maybe... but this hope seems too fragile."
Davis did not respond, but walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the empty street. He knew that Eric's words made sense. Hope is indeed fragile, but because of this, it needs someone to protect and watch over it.
The two walked side by side on the quiet street, with the occasional sound of the wind and the sound of the clock tower in the distance as their only companions at night. The street lights were dim, and between the interweaving of light and shadow, Davis' back looked particularly cold.
"Davis," Eric suddenly spoke, his voice lowered, "After that incident, do you know something that we don't know?"
Davis's steps paused slightly, but he quickly returned to normal. He tilted his head, raised a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, and said in a light and steady voice: "Eric, everyone has their own secrets, right?"
Eric was stunned for a moment, his eyes fell on Davis's profile, the vague indifference and alienation made him feel a little shocked. He didn't ask any more questions, just nodded silently. He lowered his head and looked at his shadow under the dim street lights, and a complex emotion rose in his heart.
Yes, everyone has his own secrets. He also has those pasts that he doesn't want to share with others, those memories that suddenly come to his mind on certain nights. Although they are deeply hidden by him, they are always like the sand deposited at the bottom of the lake, and will not completely dissipate with time.
Eric looked up at Davis, as if trying to see something from his back. However, he quickly shook his head and suppressed those thoughts. Perhaps, as Davis said, some secrets belong to oneself, and there is no need to share or ask.
The night wind blew by, and the two walked side by side in silence. Eric's eyes fell into the distance, and at the end of the dim street, there was a faint light, as if revealing some hope in the endless haze. He thought, perhaps, everyone's secret has its own weight, and Davis's secret...maybe much heavier than his.
"By the way, Eric," Davis suddenly spoke after the two had walked for a while, his voice breaking the silence of the night with a hint of deep meaning in the calmness, "I plan to go back to Tingen in the next two days to visit my former mentor."
Eric was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at Davis. His expression didn't change much, but there was a hint of curiosity in his tone: "Going back to Tingen? Why did you suddenly think of going back? I haven't heard you mention it before."
Davis paused for a moment, looking towards a dim street lamp not far away, and said calmly: "I just want to go back and take a look. I actually passed by Tingen on my last trip, but I didn't dare to stop because I was afraid that they would notice the abnormality in my mood."
His words sounded light, but an imperceptible ripple passed through his heart.
Maybe it was because I saw the sincere feelings of the children, or maybe it was because of the bond brought by the identity of "Davis". Or maybe it was me... I was greedy for this family-like warmth.
He added silently in his heart. These emotions did not come from pure logic, but a deeper desire and attachment - something he learned to cherish only after losing it.
"Tingen..." Eric finally spoke, with a hint of emotion in his tone, "That's your hometown, right? It sounds like you still have a lot of concerns about it."
"Of course." Davis looked away and smiled, with not much emotion in his tone. He looked down at his palms, and the fingertips seemed to still have the cold touch of the cold wind.
"Anyway, I'll be back as soon as possible." Davis raised his head and spoke in a more relaxed tone, as if he wanted to dispel Eric's doubts. "Don't worry, I won't come back with a mountain of work."
Eric laughed, as if he was infected by his tone, but his eyes revealed a hint of thoughtfulness. After a moment, he paused and suddenly said, "It just so happens that I also plan to go back to my hometown to have a look."
Davis raised his eyebrows, his eyes stayed on his face for a moment, then retracted his gaze, his tone slightly joking: "Is this a coincidence, or are you suddenly affected by me?"
"You can treat it as a coincidence." Eric shrugged, a relaxed smile on his face, but his eyes flickered. "There's no special reason. I just haven't been home for a while, and I wanted to check on my family."
Davis didn't ask further, but just nodded and said calmly: "You should go back to your hometown often, otherwise when you go back one day, everything may have changed."
Eric's smile froze for a moment, but soon returned to normal. He looked up at the night sky, his eyes seemed to stay on the sparse stars, and his voice was a little lower: "You're right, things are different... Yes."
Davis keenly noticed his strangeness, but did not point it out. He smiled slightly and said softly: "Come to think of it, I still don't know where your hometown is?"
Eric looked away and glanced at him, his tone somewhat casual: "It's a small town in the north, close to the mountains. It's not very big, and there's nothing special about it, but the air is good, and in winter the snow can reach above the knees."
"It sounds very quiet." Davis nodded, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes, "It should be completely different from Backlund, right?"
"Yes, it's completely different." Eric smiled lightly, as if recalling something. "There are no noisy factories, no dense crowds. During the day, you can hear the sound of the mountain wind blowing through the pine forest, and at night you can see the entire starry sky. When I was a child, I always thought that such a place was too boring, and I always wanted to leave one day, but when I really left, I found that kind of quietness was the most precious thing."Chapter 235 HomecomingTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2265 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-27 17:46:21
With the "Backlund specialty products" carefully selected by Eric, Davis carried a small suitcase and boarded the train to Tingen. He sat down by the window. The voices in the carriage gradually became lively, and the packages on the luggage racks piled up more and more. The air was filled with the aroma of tobacco and snacks.
Davis leaned back in his chair, looking through the car window at the gradually blurry streets of Backlund. Such a complex emotion made it almost impossible for him to express it in words. He was a rational person who was not easily swayed by emotions, but at this moment, the ups and downs in his heart were particularly difficult to ignore. Obviously, he had no deep connection with Tingen, and could even be regarded as a casual passerby, but for some reason, this familiar yet strange sense of belonging gradually grew.
The train whistled long, and the sound of wheels rolling over the rails sounded regularly, and it slowly drove away from Backlund Station. As the largest academic center in the Kingdom of Loen, the traffic between Backlund and Tingen was extremely busy. Every day, countless scholars, businessmen, and even ordinary travelers traveled between the two places, connecting the pulses of the two cities.
Most of the passengers around looked calm, as if they were used to this journey. Only Davis was a little reserved. He couldn't help but sigh softly - he didn't know whether it was to hide the complexity in his heart or simply to find something to do. He opened the package of "special products" that Eric helped to prepare. As Eric said, there were a wide variety of snacks unique to the old streets and alleys of Backlund, as well as several exquisitely crafted small ornaments. Eric's enthusiasm made him feel a little warmer and relieved some of his tension.
"I hope these gifts don't seem too casual." He thought to himself, but couldn't help but curl his lips. Perhaps this journey itself is an opportunity to relax.
The scenery outside the window gradually changed from dense bricks and towering chimneys to endless suburban wilderness. The morning light sprinkled on the fields, creating mottled light and shadows. The train moved forward steadily with the rising steam and the low hum of the rails, as if every collision between the wheels and the rails was whispering about a forgotten past. Davis sat quietly in the window seat, his eyes gradually attracted by the scenery in front of him, but his thoughts had already flown to another place.
He closed his eyes and slowly sketched the appearance of Tingen in his mind - it was a small town covered with snow. The white snow covered the streets with a quiet coat. The low but exquisite buildings were scattered in an orderly manner, revealing a unique charm. The bells of the hidden bell tower deep inside the city sounded long and low, as if telling the story of the years. This scene was the deep impression he had when he first disguised himself as "Davis" a few months ago, setting off from the Port of Watson Bay, and after a long journey, he set foot in Tingen with a dusty body.
At that time, he was alone, carrying an identity that did not belong to him, and regarded Tingen as a short-term station and a springboard. He never thought that he would have a deeper intersection with anyone or anything in this city. However, today, when he embarked on the journey to Tingen again, those long-fuzzy memories came alive. He actually felt a little inexplicably nervous, and at the same time, some unspeakable expectations.
"Professor Hartmann..."
As the name echoed in his mind, Davis' thoughts turned to the gentle but penetrating architecture scholar. The professor was sharp and steady, always able to point out the essence hidden beneath the surface with a calm tone. If he suddenly appeared in front of him at this moment, what expression would he show? Surprise, joy, or a little uneasiness? Davis couldn't help but smile bitterly and whispered to himself, "Maybe he has already noticed something from the clues."
He couldn't deny that Professor Hartman was a smart man. The professor's deep eyes seemed to be observing an exquisite architectural design, and he could always see the hidden truth from the subtle traces. This made Davis admire him but also wary. Just like Aunt Irene in the orphanage, the gentle but sharp woman, saw through his disguise when they first met and bluntly said that he was not the real "Davis". Irene's voice was soft, but it pierced people's hearts. The feeling of being seen through once made Davis feel a chill. Now thinking back on this experience, he found that he had more respect for Irene, and a hint of inexplicable complex emotions.
The train shook slightly and passed a winding track. The scenery outside the window gradually became clear from the blurry white. The fields were covered with snow, and the distant mountains glowed with a cold blue light under the sunlight. Davis slowly opened his eyes and his eyes wandered across the vast scenery. The silence of the journey seemed to provide him with a rare opportunity to sort out his thoughts. But those chaotic thoughts were like broken gears. Once they started turning, it was difficult to stop.
The silent sigh in his heart was like a heavy blow, reminding him that he was not himself after all. Whether it was "Davis" or "Grillant", these names were just masks that could be discarded at any time, and his true existence was like this white snow, with no trace to be found. He had always known that his incompatibility with this world was a kind of eternal loneliness, and the weight of that loneliness was only understood by himself.
The train whistled for a long time, the sound was melodious and heavy, with a certain solemn power, as if reminding all passengers: the next stop is coming. Davis looked down at the time on his pocket watch, less than an hour away from Tingen. The passengers in the carriage began to pack their luggage, looking forward to the reunion at the destination. And he, facing those people and things, also felt a kind of indescribable expectation.
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly involuntarily, a faint smile that he himself did not even notice. He stretched out his fingers and gently touched the cold window glass. The chill of his fingertips made him feel a real touch for a short time, as if confirming his connection with the world. His eyes passed through the window glass, across the passing scenery, and fell on the railway track extending forward, as if it was an unfinished trajectory of fate. He whispered: "No matter what, the story must continue."
This sentence is like a promise made to himself, and also a kind of declaration for the future. He is not the original "Davis", nor is he the Grallant who was forced to "die", but a lonely existence drifting in this strange world. Perhaps this loneliness is the real him, but it does not mean that he can only passively accept his fate.
"This is why I came to this world."
Davis slowly closed his eyes, and the hidden clues, the unsolved puzzles, and the countless details that he had overlooked emerged in his mind. All of these were like puzzle pieces, waiting for him to piece together the truth bit by bit. In the process, he could try to change not only the endings of those mysteries, but also the world itself.
This world is not perfect. It can even be said that it is filled with too much darkness and chaos. The shadows hidden in the light remind him all the time that this is not the place he is familiar with. However, it is these imperfections that provide him with an opportunity - an opportunity to leave his own mark, an opportunity to influence and change in his own way.
"It's chaotic here, but it's also free."Chapter 236 ChangeTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2205 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-28 23:59:03
Davis gradually realized, just like what he had realized recently when studying the secret arts: those seemingly unbreakable rules and order actually contain the possibility of being reassembled or even completely transformed. Just like the construction of the secret arts, it requires not only knowledge and skills, but also extraordinary patience and a spirit of exploration of the unknown. He understood that as long as he had enough will, wisdom and action, he could completely reassemble the scattered fragments into his own blueprint, so that everything would gradually take shape according to his ideas.
This world is like the secret art itself, complex and obscure, and cannot be fully controlled, but it is also full of opportunities. Davis understands that it is precisely because of its imperfections that the world seems more vibrant and gives him the right to choose and the possibility of change. Similarly, as a "stranger", he will no longer be bound by its established rules, but will become an explorer, reshaper, and even controller of the rules. He will try to shape this world and give it his own order and meaning, even if this road is full of thorns and even full of dangers.
Outside the window, the sun shines on the white snow, reflecting dazzling light, and the snow-covered earth seems to be coated with a layer of mysterious brilliance. This light passes through the car window and illuminates his face. The warmth is dazzling, but it makes his thoughts clear. Davis slowly withdraws his hand and puts it on his knees. The fingertips still have the coolness of touching the cold glass. However, the burning fire in his heart makes him feel more fulfilled and clear than ever before.
"Change..." He silently chanted this word in his heart, feeling the power it contained. It was not an empty slogan, but a calling that drove him to take every step to bring change to the world.
This is not only something he is capable of doing, but also his mission. He knows that he is not a native of this world, but he is inseparable from it; he cannot choose to leave, nor can he stay out of it as a bystander. He needs to take control, take action, and give real value to his existence.
He stared through the window at the gradually clear outline of the platform, which was the next stop of his journey and a symbol of a new beginning. He took a deep breath, calmed his inner fluctuations, and let all the anxiety and confusion be replaced by this moment of calm. At this moment, there was an unshakable tenacity in his eyes, as if he had merged with those unsolved puzzles and unfinished goals.
The train whistle sounded long and powerful, echoing in the winter fields, as if announcing some solemn ceremony - the end of one journey and the beginning of another.
"This is just the beginning." He whispered in his heart, with an imperceptible smile on the corner of his lips. That smile contained expectations for the future and a firm belief.
His story has opened a new chapter. He will use his will and wisdom to write and realize his blueprint for each of the next steps.
The train whistle sounded along with the sudden sound of brakes, with a rhythm that carried a sense of roughness unique to the industrial age. At the same time, the conductor's voice also penetrated the hustle and bustle of the carriage and came clearly:
"Next stop: Tingen! Passengers, please prepare to get off!"
Davis looked out the window at the scenery outside. Familiar streets and buildings gradually appeared in his field of vision, with snow covering the roofs and the ground. The pure whiteness was filled with a sense of tranquility, as if the city had not yet fully awakened from its early morning slumber.
He slowly stood up, picked up his few luggage, and walked out with the crowd in the carriage. Every step he took was deliberately calm, but his heart was filled with complex emotions.
He hesitated before deciding to return to Tingen. In the end, he chose not to write to Professor Hartmann in advance to inform him of his trip. There were two reasons for this. On the one hand, he wanted to see how those unexpected emotions would appear on their faces when they suddenly saw him. Was it surprise, confusion, or some complex reaction that he could not figure out? On the other hand, as a "replacer", he always had a vague sense of inferiority and confusion in his heart - he didn't know how to speak, and he didn't know if he was qualified to disrupt the peaceful lives of these people.
The train door slowly opened, and a cold wind mixed with a faint smell of coal smoke blew in. On the platform, the crowd was bustling, and the sound of footsteps and the shouts of the station staff were intertwined. Davis carried his luggage, stepped out of the carriage, stood on the land of Tingen, and took a deep breath of the cold air.
The familiar city, the familiar atmosphere, and even the sound of the snow compacting under his feet seemed to bring him back to the time when he first arrived here a few months ago. However, this time, his state of mind was completely different.
"Professor Hartmann..."
He said he whispered the name, as if it was some kind of self-reminder, or as if to give himself courage. He quickly restrained his emotions, raised his head, and looked firmly at the street not far away.
After stopping a carriage, he told the destination and got on. He leaned on the cushions in the carriage and watched the familiar street scene of Tingen slowly pass by through the window. The city was still so quiet and simple, as if it had kept its own rhythm in the long river of time. However, this journey did not seem as easy as he had imagined.
The carriage had been running for less than a quarter of an hour when it suddenly shook violently and then stopped. The driver stood up from his seat and turned back in a panic, shouting, "Sir, please wait a moment. I have to check it."
Davis frowned and sat up straight from his comfortable seat. He slowly opened a corner of the curtain, and the cold wind outside, carrying snowflakes, rushed in, which refreshed him. He looked in the direction of the coachman and found that he was trying to calm the horses in front that seemed to be frightened, but what concerned him more was the unusual silence around him.
"What's wrong?" Davis opened the door and stood beside the driver, his voice low but with a hint of majesty. He quietly opened his spiritual vision, his eyes slightly brightened, and his sight swept over everything around him.
Under his spiritual vision, the surrounding scene was stained with different colors, but what alerted him was that there was a faint gray mist floating in the corner near the street corner in the distance, as if emitting some kind of emotional fluctuations. This kind of mist is imperceptible to ordinary people, but to the perceptive extraordinary people, it is like a warning light in the dark.
"Nothing special, the horse seems to have just been frightened by something." The driver said a little puzzled, tried to control the horse, pulled the reins, and found that everything seemed to have returned to normal.
Davis did not respond immediately, but looked again in the direction indicated by the spiritual vision. There was still no specific movement in the gray fog in the distance, but the looming emotional fluctuations made him alert. After a moment, he retracted his gaze, smiled calmly, and patted the driver on the shoulder: "Let the horse rest for a while, don't be too nervous."
His tone was calm and cool, successfully calming the driver, who nodded, jumped off the carriage, and checked the wheels and surroundings, as if to confirm that everything was in order.Chapter 237 HomecomingTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2151 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-29 23:59:05
Davis returned to the carriage and leaned back in his seat casually, pretending that he didn't care about the accident at all. But his heart was not at peace for a moment. The brief abnormality just now, whether it was a coincidence or deliberate, was enough to make him alert. He quickly sorted out the possible situations in his mind and forced himself to calm down so as not to reveal any flaws.
"As 'Davis', I shouldn't be sensitive to the supernatural."
This was the bottom line he had to stick to now. His external identity was that of an ordinary architectural scholar, perhaps with some special features, but he could never show extraordinary sensitivity, otherwise it would only make his hidden identity more suspicious, and even attract the attention of some peepers.
However, could it be that the instinctive reaction just now had revealed something?
He recalled the tiny movement when his eyes fell on the anomaly captured by his psychic vision, and his brows wrinkled slightly. However, he soon shook his head again, trying to convince himself that his sensitivity to psychic powers had been partially exposed after the smog incident in Backlund. The explanation at that time was that he had a good extraordinary item that could sense certain extraordinary phenomena. This reason seemed to be enough to cover up his true situation, but he knew that it was a fragile cover-up after all. Once someone really wanted to test him, his identity would probably be difficult to escape unscathed.
"Maybe everything that happened just now was just a coincidence, but if it was really set up against me..."
Davis's thoughts never stopped. He carefully examined the situation and tried to stay calm. Since he had been exposed, the most important thing was how to continue hiding under his current identity and not arouse more suspicion. He took a deep breath, adjusted his breathing, and tapped the edge of the seat with his fingers, which sounded like boredom, and at the same time calmed his mind.
Soon, the driver finished the inspection and came back with a smile, "No problem, maybe the horse was just a little frightened. But don't worry, we will be able to continue on our way soon."
Davis nodded, his eyes seemed relaxed, but in his heart he seemed to be carefully weighing the next move: "Well, that's good." His tone was neither hurried nor slow, and his tone was so calm that it was almost perfunctory. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, pretending to be indifferent, as if the accident just now was just an ordinary episode with no follow-up.
However, the silence of the carriage and the monotonous sound of the wheels did not let him relax his vigilance. He closed his eyes and listened to the low rolling sound coming from the snow when the carriage started again. His thoughts were as sharp as a sword, and he remained alert all the time.
"If what happened just now was indeed a test, then there will definitely be more actions to follow."
Tingen is not as peaceful as it seems. The hidden undercurrents in this city are more turbulent than when we left, and the accident just now may be just the tip of the iceberg of these undercurrents.
"This is a beginning and also a reminder."
However, until the carriage arrived at Professor Hartmann's residence, nothing unusual happened along the way. It was as if everything was just an illusion.
Davis rang the doorbell. The sound of the doorbell was particularly clear in the quiet winter night, as if knocking on people's hearts.
Davis stood in front of the door, adjusted his scarf, and made himself look more natural. He knew that the real danger was often hidden in the seemingly calm moments, and now he had to act like an ordinary architectural scholar without revealing any flaws.
Soon after, footsteps were heard from inside the door, and then the wooden door slowly opened with a creaky sound, revealing a familiar face - Mrs. Emma.
She was still wearing the tweed coat that bore traces of time, and the wrinkles on her face appeared even deeper under the light, but her eyes were gentle, with a kind of intimacy that came from a long-parting encounter.
"Davis, you went back to Tingen, and you didn't write to us in advance." Lady Emma glanced at him, speaking with surprise, and then kept looking at him, as if to confirm whether he had caught a cold. But before Davis responded, she moved aside, pulled his arm and said with a smile: "Come in, it's cold outside."
"Thank you, Mrs. Emma." Davis responded with a smile and stepped into the familiar room.
The dancing flames in the fireplace illuminate the sofa, and the air is filled with the smell of burning wood, making people feel warm and safe involuntarily.
Madam Emma brought hot tea and gave Davis a friendly smile: "Davis, now that you are back, you can rest here for a few days. I have asked the servants to tidy up the room. Julius has been telling me about your research these days."
Davis raised his eyebrows slightly, took off his gloves and placed them on the table, then took the cup. "Oh? What did the professor say?"
Madam Emma smiled and said, "Julius has been reading old architectural materials in his study recently, and he mentioned your ideas from time to time. He said that your ideas about the stability of architectural structures in adapting to different environments are very interesting and remind him of some ancient design concepts."
Davis took a sip of hot tea, and the warmth of the tea dispelled some of the winter chill. He nodded slightly and said thoughtfully: "The professor's research direction has always been rigorous, and his insights will definitely benefit me a lot."
Madam Emma sat on the chair opposite him and looked at him softly. "Julius has always admired your talent. He always said that although you are young, your understanding of architecture is no less than that of many experienced scholars." She paused and her tone became a little more serious. "But... he seems to be worried recently. He often stares at the materials in a daze. Sometimes he doesn't even hear me talking to him."
Davis' heart moved slightly. The professor was always rigorous and calm. If even Mrs. Emma noticed his abnormality, it meant that the matter was definitely not just academic contemplation. He put down the teacup and asked calmly, "Did the professor encounter any difficulties? Or did he mention the recent research direction?"
Madam Emma sighed and shook her head. "He didn't say anything specific, but he has been looking through notes from a long time ago. He even sleeps much less than before." She raised her head with a hint of helplessness in her eyes. "I always feel that his mind is not only focused on academics."
Davis thought about the content of the professor's research. If it involved historical buildings, then perhaps there were some clues hidden in them that he had not noticed...
Just then, the sound of keys turning was heard outside the door, followed by familiar, steady footsteps.
Professor Julius Hartmann walked into the living room, his coat still on, and the snow dripped down the corners of his coat onto the carpet at the door. His face, which was originally a little tired, was obviously stunned when he saw Davis sitting on the sofa, and then a hint of surprise flashed across his expression, and then he spoke with a little hesitation:
"Davis, are you back from your study tour?"
Professor Hartman's voice was as steady as ever, revealing the calmness and rationality unique to scholars, but Davis still heard a subtle emotional fluctuation in it.
Davis knew what he meant, but he didn't know how to explain it.Chapter 238 ArchitectureTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2116 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-30 23:59:04
"What are you talking about? Davis is back from Backlund. Have you been too immersed in academic research recently and your memory is a little confused?" Madam Emma looked at her husband with a teasing smile.
Professor Hartman nodded slightly, his eyes lingering on Davis for a moment, as if examining his demeanor and mental state. He was silent for a moment, then slowly took off his coat and hung it on the hanger at the door. His movements were as rigorous as ever, and even the way he placed his clothes was precise and meticulous.
Seeing this, Madam Emma walked forward to help him straighten his collar, with a hint of gentle concern in her tone: "Come and sit down, it's so cold outside."
Professor Hartman sighed softly and rubbed his brows with his hands, as if he was a little tired from today's work. He walked to the living room and sat opposite Davis, saying calmly but seriously, "You didn't write in advance."
Davis smiled slightly, took a sip from the teacup, and said casually, "I decided to come back at the last minute, so I didn't have time to write a letter." He paused, and his tone became a little heavier. "I've been through some things recently, and I feel like I should change."
Professor Hartman's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to catch something from Davis's expression and tone. He did not speak immediately, but was silent for a moment before slowly asking, "Change? Do you mean the research direction, or... other aspects?"
Davis gently put down the teacup and leaned back on the sofa with a calm expression: "Of course I have new insights into research directions, but in addition, I also realized that scholars are not just immersed in theories. Sometimes, understanding the world itself is equally important."
Professor Hartman's eyes became deeper. He raised his hand to adjust his glasses. After thinking for a moment, he slowly said, "So, you decided to adjust your direction?"
Davis smiled, his eyes wandering over the teacup, and said in a calm tone: "I found that some knowledge is not just theory on paper, but is closely related to the real world."
Professor Hartman nodded slightly, his expression slightly relaxed. "This is exactly one of the goals that academic research should pursue. Not just staying on the books, but being able to truly understand how the world works."
Lady Emma listened to the conversation between the two and couldn't help shaking her head and laughing, "You scholars are always like this, discussing academic matters as soon as you meet. Davis rarely comes back, Julius, can't you first care about his recent situation, at least ask him if his journey is smooth?"
Professor Hartman paused for a moment, as if he was not used to it, and asked softly, "Davis, did you have a smooth journey back?"
Davis recalled the brief and unusual experience on the way back, but his expression did not change. He simply replied casually, "It went very smoothly."
Professor Hartman's eyes flickered slightly, as if he noticed the subtlety in Davis' words, but he did not ask further questions. Instead, he nodded slightly: "That's good."
The atmosphere relaxed a little. Madam Emma came over with freshly brewed tea, placed a cup in front of Professor Hartman, and said with a smile, "Okay, you guys chat slowly, I'll go prepare dinner."
Professor Hartman took the teacup and gently stroked the rim of the cup with his fingertips, as if he was thinking about something. He raised his head and looked at Davis, and asked casually, "What are your plans after coming back this time?"
Davis smiled lightly, his fingertips slowly sliding along the edge of the teacup, his tone calm but firm: "I won't leave for the time being, I plan to stay in Tingen for a while."
Professor Hartmann's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was thinking about something. After a moment, he nodded: "Tingen is indeed a good place, suitable for in-depth research."
Davis looked at him and whispered, "It's more than just research."
Professor Hartman paused for a moment, then put down his teacup and looked at him quietly. He did not speak immediately, but was silent for a moment before slowly saying, "I understand."
There was a brief silence in the room, and the fire in the fireplace flickered gently, making a faint crackling sound.
Professor Hartman sighed, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Davis with complicated eyes: "In that case, we can go to the study to talk tomorrow. I happen to have some information that may be of interest to you."
Davis smiled slightly and picked up the teacup: "Then I'd better obey your command."
The next day, study.
The morning sun shines through the heavy curtains, casting mottled shadows in the study. The air is filled with the faint scent of paper and ink, and the embers in the fireplace are slightly red, retaining the warmth of last night. The study is silent, with only the ticking of the second hand of the clock, adding a flowing rhythm to this tranquility.
Davis sat upright on a dark brown leather chair, legs crossed, his eyes fixed on a stack of documents in Professor Hartman's hand. He looked calm, as if he was waiting or thinking about something.
Professor Hartman looked down at the documents in his hand, carefully examining each page as if he was confirming something. After a moment, he finally raised his head, pushed one of the documents in front of Davis, and asked calmly, "Are you interested in this kind of architectural research?"
Davis frowned slightly, reached out to take the document, and looked between the lines. It was a research report on a building in the old town of Tingen, which recorded in detail the style, structure and age of the building, and even involved some rumors that were not widely circulated. The last few pages of the document were interspersed with a few handwritten notes, the handwriting was sharp and rigorous, and it was obviously written by the professor himself.
"This is a special building." Professor Hartman said softly, his eyes deep. "Its history is longer than official records. Some of its structures do not conform to our common architectural concepts. It even... has traces of mysticism."
Davis flipped through the pages quietly, his eyes flickering, his fingertips gently stroking the edge of the paper, and asked thoughtfully, "How did you find it?"
Professor Hartman picked up the teacup, took a sip, and then slowly said, "A few months ago, a scholar friend mentioned this building. At that time, I just investigated it out of academic interest, but as the research deepened, I found that some of its details did not completely match the known architectural history. More importantly..." He paused, and his sharp eyes fell on Davis, "It seems to be related to something that cannot be explained by common sense."
There was a deep meaning in his words, and Davis's eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughtful expression intensified. He put down the documents and said slowly: "Professor, do you want me to study this building?"
Professor Hartman was silent for a moment, then nodded gently: "If you wish."
Davis looked at Professor Hartman, was silent for a long time, and sighed, "As a scholar, facing a special building, I have no reason to refuse."Chapter 239 Unreasonable ExistenceTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2114 wordsUpdate time: 2025-01-31 23:59:04
Professor Hartman nodded slightly, as if he had already anticipated Davis' answer. He took a sip from the teacup, then slowly put it down and looked at the other person calmly, with some expectation hidden in his eyes.
"I know you won't refuse." His tone remained calm, but there was a subtle caution between the lines. "However, the study of this building may not be just a simple style analysis or historical research. Its existence itself has some inexplicable characteristics. It can even be said that it should not have appeared in that era."
Davis frowned slightly, tapped the cover of the document with his fingers, and asked thoughtfully: "What unreasonable things do you mean?"
The professor did not answer immediately, but reached out to open a page in the file and pushed a black-and-white photo in front of Davis. The photo showed an old but imposing building with mottled stone walls and faint traces of some kind of symbol. The dome design on the top of the building was particularly abrupt in the architectural system at the time, especially the twisted lines around it, which gave people a secret and obscure sense of oppression.
"This building is located in a remote corner of the old town of Tingen. According to official records, it was built more than four hundred years ago. But if you look closely, you will find that its architectural style is much older than this time. Some parts do not even match the known Tudor or Solomonic architectural styles." Professor Hartmann tapped a corner of the photo with his finger, speaking in a low and solemn tone, "Also, its material... is not the stone that was common at the time."
Davis's eyes narrowed slightly, and he reached out to pick up the photo and examined it carefully. He keenly noticed that some of the walls of the building had traces of erosion, as if it had experienced extreme weathering over time, but it still maintained a complete structure, rather than collapsing over the years like other ancient buildings.
"What material is this?" he asked.
Professor Hartman paused for a moment and whispered, "We can't be sure."
Davis raised his head and looked at the professor for a moment, his eyes gleaming with deep thought.
"A few months ago, I tried to find relevant records in the database of the School of Architecture, but there was very little historical information about this building, and it could even be said to be unusually blank." Professor Hartmann continued, "What's more interesting is that when I contacted the local archives in Tingen, they didn't have any construction records for this building in their records. There was only a vague deed registration showing that it belonged to a family that has disappeared."
Davis heard this and slowly stroked the edge of the photo with his fingertips, quickly filtering possible explanations in his mind - was the file lost? Or was it deliberately erased?
"More importantly," the professor paused, as if he was choosing his words, "this building has been almost uninhabited for the past hundred years. It is considered a taboo place by the locals. It is said that... every night, people hear strange whispers, and those who occasionally enter will come out with confused memories. Some people even completely forget why they went in."
Davis's eyes narrowed slightly, and he was silent for a moment, then he sighed softly: "Professor, you mean... it's not just a building."
Professor Hartman's eyes flickered slightly, and he whispered, "That's why I want you to do the research."
Davis chuckled and shook his head. "It doesn't sound like a simple architectural study. It sounds more like an adventure."
"Isn't academic research itself a kind of exploration?" Professor Hartman said calmly, "Of course, if you feel it is inappropriate, you can refuse. I just think that the existence of this building may inspire your research direction."
Davis was silent for a moment, his eyes moving between the documents and the photos, and finally he said slowly: "As a scholar, I have no reason to refuse such a special building." He paused, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly, "But, Professor, I will not just study it."
Professor Hartman raised his eyebrows slightly, as if he understood what he meant, and nodded gently: "No matter what your goal is, I just hope you can remain cautious enough."
Davis smiled slightly, put the photo back into the file, and closed it gently.
"Don't worry, Professor."
Professor Hartman nodded, stood up and left, leaving a pile of heavy documents and the yellowed black-and-white photo on the table. Davis watched the professor disappear, then slowly returned his gaze to the documents on the table. He tapped the cover lightly with his fingers, thinking about the various anomalies of the building mentioned by the professor.
A building that was deliberately erased from historical records, an unrecognizable building material, an area that was considered taboo by the locals... Putting these clues together, Davis felt a vague sense of familiarity. This didn't seem like a simple historical relic, but more like a secret that was deliberately covered up. And those strange whispers and confused memories reminded him of some secret news - about the influence of high-sequence people on low-sequence people.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, reached out and pulled out a book on architecture from the bookshelf, flipping through the chapters on Tudor or Solomon architecture, while comparing the architectural styles in the photos in his mind. However, whether it was the complicated spires, flying buttresses, or the heavy dome, this building could not be accurately categorized. Even more strange was that the twisted lines did not look like traditional decorations, but more like some kind of symbols - perhaps some obscure inscriptions.
Davis closed the book and sighed. It was almost impossible to unlock the secret of this building with just this information. He had to go there in person and stand in front of the building to find a breakthrough.
He stood up and walked to the window, his eyes fixed slightly, looking into the distance through the window, but the building was blocked by the scattered houses and the morning sun in front of him, so he couldn't see it directly. He frowned slightly, stretched out his hand to open the window, and let the cool morning breeze brush across his face, carrying the unique damp smell of the old town of Tingen.
It's right here.
Although he couldn't see it, he knew that the building stood quietly in a corner, buried in the memory of the city and covered by the dust of time, as if waiting for someone to come and reveal its secrets.
"Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist." He muttered to himself, retracted his gaze, returned to the table, and looked at the spread-out manuscripts and photos.
It was covered up so thoroughly that both historical records and official documents, and even most of the city's residents, seemed to have selectively forgotten its existence.
This method seems to be used to erase some truth that should not be discovered.
Davis' fingers gently stroked the edge of the photo, with an inquiring light in his eyes. He knew that he had to go to the building in person to uncover the secrets hidden in time and oblivion.
"It seems that I need to go and see it in person."Chapter 240 Strange BuildingTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2116 wordsUpdate time: 2025-02-01 23:59:06
Davis sorted out the documents on the table, quietly closed the desk drawer, stood up and put on his coat, picked up the faded hat and put it on his head.
His movements were skillful and steady, like a detective who was ready to take on the challenge. He did not hesitate at all, and had already made up his mind. At this moment, all the entanglements and confusions were left behind - since he had already made the decision, he would not delay even a moment.
Davis took a deep breath and walked towards the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
The cold wind outside did not reduce the biting feeling of winter at all, blowing in the face, mixed with the unique humidity of the old town of Tingen. The air was damp and cold, with a hint of decay, as if every brick and tile was whispering about the traces of history. Davis reached out and pushed open the heavy wooden door, walking into the town still immersed in the night.
He waved to call a carriage, and after the carriage stopped, he sat steadily in the carriage and announced his destination - the Steam Church. This was a place he had noticed on the map, not only because it was a building of the righteous gods, but also because it was next to the abnormal building. He suspected that there must be some hidden connection between the two.
In addition, he didn't want his whereabouts to be known to everyone.
The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making a dull and rhythmic clicking sound. Davis leaned back in his seat, looking out the window at the street, recalling all the information provided by the professor. Those messy and unorganized clues were like flying pieces of paper, which gradually became orderly under the guidance of his mind. He tried to piece these fragments together and try to find the key. The time contradictions of the ancient building, the lack of official records, and the proximity to the Steam Church all seemed to hint at something to him.
His mind raced: Who built this building? Why was its existence deliberately concealed? These questions kept circling in his mind, and he could almost feel the vague uneasiness, like a dark cloud pressing down on his head, which he could not get rid of.
The carriage gradually slowed down and finally stopped in the square in front of the Steam Church. Davis pushed the door and got out of the carriage. Standing in the cold wind, he looked up at the tall tower standing in the square. The tower was straight, as if it symbolized the power of civilization, but he did not stay for too long. This place was not his destination. The church was just a reference for him to guide. He quickly moved his eyes away from the tower and followed the map in his memory, walking towards the hidden building.
The streets became narrower and narrower, and the surrounding buildings began to look old and dilapidated. The old town of Tingen is famous for its intricate streets and irregular architectural styles. Many houses have been demolished and renovated many times due to their age, forming a confusing layout. Davis's eyes wandered between these buildings, and he silently calculated in his mind as he walked. As he thought, the geographical location of this abnormal building was extremely discordant with the proximity of the Steam Church. Logically speaking, such a place full of taboos and rumors should not appear near this holy land.
The more he walked, the more he felt something was wrong. The houses on both sides of the street gradually became dilapidated, the surface of the stone bricks was severely weathered, and the walls were covered with moss and vines. The air became more and more damp and stuffy, with a musty smell that made people frown. There were fewer and fewer pedestrians on the street, as if this area had been forgotten long ago. This place did not look like a normal residential area, but more like a dead corner of the city, some kind of abandoned and neglected area.
Finally, he came to the street entrance of the building and stopped. The building in front of him was like a silent monster, standing quietly in front of him, as if waiting for him to approach. Davis looked sharply at every detail of the building. It was not tall, and the three-story stone structure looked old and simple. The outer wall was mottled and peeling, and the traces of time left deep marks on its surface. And those seemingly ordinary carved symbols seemed to hide some unknown meaning. They were intricate and arranged in a unique way, which made people feel uneasy, as if they were telling some deep secrets.
But what alerted Davis the most was that the layout of this building was out of tune with the surrounding environment. He could not help but slightly adjust his perspective and suddenly realized that the location of this building was almost back-to-back with the Steam Church. The two buildings were only a few hundred steps apart, but the towers facing each other were like two huge eyes, staring at each other.
Davis's doubts deepened. If this building really hides some extraordinary space as he thought, why would it choose such a location close to the Steam Church? He stood here, with an uneasy premonition in his heart. Then, he looked down at the foundation of the building and suddenly found a subtle contradiction. According to his memory of the map, the foundation area of the building should be larger than what he saw, but he only saw a limited three-story structure. This means that the interior of the building is likely to hide an unknown space, perhaps a basement, or even a closed passage leading to the Steam Church, or connected to it.
This discovery was like a huge stone thrown into Davis's heart, causing ripples. He was shocked and made a quick decision. No matter what, he had to investigate further to uncover the secrets hidden behind this building. At this moment, he could even feel the oppressive atmosphere, as if some unknown force was approaching.
He did not rush in, but carefully observed the surroundings. The door was closed, and the heavy wooden door was inlaid with iron buckles, and the surface had long been rusted. The air was filled with the smell of decay, which made people feel uneasy. Davis knocked on the door gently, the sound was low and long, as if calling to some unknown existence deep in the building. Silence responded to him, and only the echo echoed in the empty street.
He took a step back and stared at the metal buckle on the door, his eyes calm and sharp. If this building really hides something unknown, then the door may not be the only entrance. Maybe, some inconspicuous place, some forgotten gap, is the entrance to the unknown.
Davis raised his hand, gently stroking his fingertips, secretly activating the protective secret technique. A hidden body protection technique, a sensory technique that enhanced perception, took effect instantly. The air around him seemed to become heavier, and a whispering voice seemed to come from the depths, which dissipated instantly, like an illusion.
He took a deep breath, remained calm, and looked at the building in front of him again. This place was destined to be extraordinary.
He did not choose to enter through the gate, but put on the extraordinary gloves he had obtained. Davis knew that this exploration might be more dangerous than any other time. He gently touched the gate, and a burst of illusory light and shadow passed by. Suddenly, the door in front of him twisted into a blurred shadow.