Chapter 277 Machinery
Everyone in Fogburg knows that Mr. Brown, the old owner of Mr. Brown's Watch Shop, is the best watchmaker in the city. The clocks calibrated by him will not make any mistakes in every minute and every second.
When the brass doorbell rang again, the owner of the watch shop was wearing eyeglasses and wrestling with a rusty dial without even looking up. "Welcome, what would you like to see?"
The visitor said nothing, wandering aimlessly around the watch shop, touching here and patting there. Suddenly, he was frightened by a brass bird statue that jumped out to tell the time with its feathers shaking. He jumped away suddenly, like a frightened, weird big bird, and the big feathers on its hat shook exaggeratedly a few times.
"Oh, my old friend, it's been a long time since we last met, and your place is still so novel and interesting!" The visitor was dressed like a bard, and he patted his chest covered with colorful rags with lingering fear.
Old Brown was silent for a moment, then pushed his eyepiece up to his forehead. "Long time no see...Magnus."
"Captain, Captain Magnus," the bard emphasized with a grin. "I went out to sea, witnessed chaos, played a game of catch, offended the gods, and then—bang—the boat capsized."
Old Brown didn't seem to take those crazy words to heart. He shook his head and said, "You live a carefree and carefree life."
"What about you, Mr. Brown?" Magnus suddenly stopped smiling. A closer look revealed the unusually cold, rigid lines of his eyes, hidden by layers of paint, on that strange face. "Dear Weaver, dear compatriot, have you seen the god?"
"Don't question me, Magnus." The old man looked at him calmly and wearily. "He came to my shop, asked me about the Fogburg curse, and then asked me to collect the bodies of a beggar father and son. That's it."
Magnus stared at him for a moment, then sighed, "Then he is truly a kind god."
"Noble, just, humble, compassionate..." He tutted his tongue a few times, not sure if it was out of mockery or admiration: "I thought I was describing a noble knight."
"If he wasn't kind, you wouldn't be standing here talking to me right now." Old Brown looked at him sadly. "In the last days of the century, anyone who offends even the most merciful God of Life and Joy will lose an eye."
Magnus remained noncommittal and casually knocked on the huge owl clock behind Old Brown. "How is our dear owl?"
Old Brown's lips moved, but in the end he didn't say anything, but sighed.
"...Come with me." He was hunched over and looked even older.
The old man regularly turned the dial of the owl clock until the hour and minute hands corresponded to certain positions. Suddenly, a soft and dull sound of gears meshing came from under the owl clock, and the heavy clock slowly moved backwards, revealing a narrow tunnel entrance that was only wide enough for one person to pass through.
With an unobtrusive click, the watch shop returned to normal. The wooden sign hanging in front of the window swayed gently. Through the dim glass window, the word "Closed" on it was already a little blurry. The shop was empty.
…
"I'm curious, why do you want us to pay attention to a...watch shop?" Orel crossed his arms and looked at the black-haired tyrant whose expression did not change at all.
"Look at the dust distribution and the wear on the floor," the professor explained briefly. "An ordinary cellar wouldn't need to be so secretive. Judging from the owner's attitude, he's most likely a believer in Lamodo, the goddess of fate. Actually, I'm just guessing. We're really lucky. We won the jackpot."
Ole snorted without comment. He knew that this man would not pretend to be humble. However, even if he was "modest" occasionally, he still seemed arrogant to the point of terribly so - he might as well just regard it as "good luck".
"That Magnus is very powerful," the assassin narrowed his eyes. "Even Shadow Chaser didn't dare get too close. He could only watch him walk into the watch shop—and then completely lost track of him."
The professor was silent for a moment, then turned to look at Azuka, slowly frowning. "...Do you think Magnus is retracing our steps? Otherwise, why wouldn't he come to Port Morris and wait? The Ghost is definitely going to return to the People's Party."
——What is the special meaning of this?
"I'm quite certain that no one was monitoring us along the way." Azuka thought for a moment and said with certainty, "The last place you appeared in public was the Place de la Guillotine. If he was there, then your guess is correct."
"Then hold still and continue watching," the professor said decisively. "I have a feeling he'll come looking for us eventually."
Putting aside the matter of the mysterious prophet for the moment, what surprised everyone in the People's Party except the professor and Azuka was that people actually started coming to Port Morris to seek refuge.
Some came alone to try their luck, some came with their families and were desperate. There were even quite a few readers from all over the country who came all the way here for the "pilgrimage" purely for the name of "Mr. Nova." There were also some small organizations trying to join the People's Party...
What surprised everyone the most was that some scholars who had been persecuted by the Holy See to the point of having nowhere else to go also chose to seek refuge in Port Morris. Mr. Sainz was one of them.
Mr. Sainz is an ordinary person, an astronomer and a mechanical engineer. He is an astronomer in order to get a salary by being listed in the Ockensele Society and the Royal Observatory, but the latter is his real interest.
These days, the Vatican's hostility toward scholars is growing, and offending those white-robed men is easier than breathing. But Mr. Sainz was simply unlucky, for the simple reason that he stood in the way of a certain cardinal's nephew.
Upon learning that he had been inexplicably accused of blasphemy by the Vatican, Mr. Sainz was in a state of panic all day long, fearing that the judge would come to his door at any time and throw him into the Inquisition to be torn into pieces.
Panicked, he wrote to his old friend, Gibson Wyatt, the Vice President of White Tower University, for help. After all, the chaos at White Tower University's seminary was well known in the academic community. Even with the owl missing, this group of seemingly weak and vulnerable theologians had actually withstood the Vatican's offensive, even inflicting heavy losses on the white-robed theologians.
——The most famous one formed a political party and launched a rebellion in the western part of the empire.
Why not just join Baita University, Mr. Science thought secretly. He didn't want to go to any of those big companies that came to recruit him. It was not pleasant to have his brain restricted to research magic tools. Anyway, he just wanted to find a job where he could eat and drink for free so that he could have time to study the machinery that interested him.
Vice President Gibson Wyatt's reply surprised him greatly. He tactfully explained that White Tower University was currently low on resources and couldn't afford to accept someone who was currently useless and dependent on others for protection. Why not go to Port Morris? He earnestly suggested that since he was likely to face death in the Inquisition, it would be better to go to a place where the Vatican, or even the Royal Court, had no control over him. The People's Party was still in its infancy and desperately short of personnel. He believed that a helping hand was better than a helping hand. There, he would surely receive satisfactory treatment.
After struggling for a whole day and night, Mr. Sainz finally made up his mind. He packed his bags, disappeared without even quitting his job, and secretly ran away to the territory of the famous "Mr. Nova".
With the letter of introduction from Baita University, Sainz managed to meet this rising young leader despite being extremely nervous.
The other party did not look ferocious, but rather a gentle young scholar. He was nothing like the ruthless man in the legend who led students to rebel against the Vatican and chopped off the heads of an entire church.
But as the conversation deepened, Mr. Sainz couldn't help but wipe the sweat from his forehead. This young man's knowledge extended beyond theology, and he also had a deep understanding of mechanics, which even surprised him, an expert.
When he introduced the improved blueprint of his self-proclaimed automatic sniper rifle to others, the other party was able to point out the problem with the gallbladder design.
"Have you studied these?" Sainz couldn't help but swallow his saliva and said, "You know, the mainstream of the empire has always wanted to replace all traditional firearms with magic tools. I always thought that no one would continue to study these except me..."
"Magic tools are powered by coal," the black-haired young man said coldly. "The People's Party doesn't have the resources right now. Furthermore, pinning all hopes on a new energy source that hasn't undergone extensive testing, while ignoring other possibilities, is inherently foolish."
Sainz's eyes gradually lit up: "Do you think so too?"
"I went to observe the recently renowned magic light cannon. They say a single shot is equivalent to the full-strength attack of an apostle warlock." Speaking of his professional field, his speech quickened. "But this kind of effect is theoretically possible with improved barrel forging technology and improved combustible material ratios. It doesn't even require the expensive use of jet. Just..."
He was so excited that he started gesticulating and sketching improved designs and formulas on a piece of white paper. He stopped talking only when his mouth was dry.
Wait, did he say too much? Sainz suddenly came to his senses and looked anxiously at the young leader of the People's Party who had been listening attentively.
He'd tried to find a boss before, but he couldn't boast about his research to the heavens. Every time he'd spout off a lot of abstruse technical terms, the bigwigs would just interrupt and ask, "How long will it take? How much will it cost? Will the effects be as amazing as the magic tools?" What? More experiments? And there's no guarantee of results? Get lost. We don't need idiots like you here, just eating and drinking for free...
"Your idea is very feasible. I will allocate funds and arrange for personnel to cooperate with your experiment," the professor said seriously. He lowered his head and wrote a number on a piece of paper. "The People's Party doesn't have much spare funds either - is this amount enough?"
Nova was startled.
A middle-aged man with an unshaven beard and a listless expression looked like he was crying, which was not a good look. The other party stood up excitedly, saying that it was enough, turned around a few times and wanted to hug him, but was suddenly grabbed by Azuka who appeared behind him.
"This is my assistant. I'm sorry to have startled you." The professor glanced at the man's obviously frightened and terrified expression and calmly joked, "But I hope you can understand. After all, my head is worth a full five hundred thousand gold coins."
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