116: Chapter 54 Undercurrents in Daily Life

In late July, the muggy heat in Backlund had become the norm.

The Hoi River had completely returned to its normal water level, and the Old Wharf, which had been silent for a long time, resumed operations. The roar of cargo ships passing back and forth dispelled the deathly silence that followed the collapse of the anchor point.

There was no longer any movement in the abandoned spiritual branch pipes beneath the Old Industrial District, as if the massive turmoil that had stirred the Sea of Wraith had never happened.

The weekly intelligence briefing from Abraham still maintained its unchanging format.

After the record of price fluctuations for Southern Continent dust, the red-ink annotation on the second-to-last line was as stubborn as ever, like a silent surveillance running through the entire midsummer—the black sail ship remained motionless.

Lu Li set the briefing on the table and opened his personal notebook to check his recent income and expenses item by item.

After becoming an external consultant for the Secret Order, he had a quarterly allowance.

When the first salary arrived, he didn't buy any Beyonder materials; instead, he bought a few extra loaves of white bread and entrusted Old Kohler to give them to the children who often drew pictures under the oak tree at the church.

Looking at the balance of pounds in the ledger, he subconsciously thought of the convenient electrical appliances from his previous life and considered buying an ice maker.

He came back to his senses in an instant; in this retro land without electricity, only lukewarm black tea could barely dispel the summer heat.

Lu Li sighed softly, set aside his stray thoughts, picked up his teacup, and took a sip of the lukewarm tea.

Beneath the calm surface of daily life, undercurrents were already surging quietly everywhere.

15 Mingde Street, Sherlock Moriarty Detective Agency.

Sherlock Moriarty was hunched over his desk drafting a commission contract when a crisp knock on the door sounded at the right moment.

The client who came was a middle manager from a shipping company in the Dock District, his expression carrying an imperceptible anxiety.

While taking inventory of ore crates shipped from the Southern Continent recently, he discovered something strange: the entire ship's cargo of ore was intact and in perfect condition, but the seal runes on the surface of all the crates had failed, and all spiritual locks had been silently undone.

At first, he intended to seek help from the official Geological Research Institute, but after the institute's appraiser inspected them, he concluded that the ore itself was completely normal, yet privately gave a chilling speculation—this method of breaking seal runes without leaving a trace was extremely consistent with the Lock Picking Beyonder ability of the Apprentice Pathway.

Since ordinary official agencies could not trace the source, the appraiser suggested he find a private detective knowledgeable about Beyonder affairs.

Sherlock took the ore sample handed over by the other party, his fingertips rubbing against the cold, rough stone surface, his gaze suddenly sharpening.

On the dark green serpentine surface, the engraved patterns were highly consistent with the ancient inscription system of the Antigonus Family.

He held the ore up to the window and observed it carefully through the clear daylight, clearly seeing a thin but complete golden vein coiling inside the stone body, connected head to tail, like a sleeping golden snake.

This was a variant serpentine ore recorded in the archives of the Secret Order, belonging to a natural spiritual encryption carrier, and was a signature product of the old mines of Antigonus.

"I need a few days to verify the source. Leave the sample with me for now." Sherlock said faintly, raising his eyes.

The shipping manager nodded hurriedly, put down the information, and left in a hurry.

The office returned to silence. Sherlock took out the copy of the serpentine ore analysis that Lu Li had left behind from the drawer. Comparing the two, the doubts surfaced completely.

This batch of ore all came from the Southern Continent quarry under the client's name, which was also the source of supply for the Secret Order recently. Since the sealing of the underground anchor point, the spirituality of conventional serpentine had completely entered an inert dormant state, showing no abnormalities.

But the variant ore in front of him was completely different.

The complete golden snake-shaped vein inside was a brand new variant that had never appeared in any ore samples from previous years.

There was only one conclusion: the old quarry in the Southern Continent had dug up a brand new, previously undiscovered secret mine.

He organized this key clue, the characteristics of the ore variant, and the potential risks into a complete briefing, waiting for the next Tarot Club to submit it to Mr. Fool.

...

Above the gray fog, it was eternally silent.

The towering bronze long table spanned the void, with the Fool sitting in the high seat, overlooking the Tarot Club members below.

Justice was the first to stand up and report on the recent situation in Backlund, recounting the anomaly at the private clinic on the outskirts of the city—the books in the display window had been quietly replaced, and "Dream Interpretation" written by Roselle Gustav had been placed there, deliberately revealing clues related to forbidden knowledge.

The Hanged Man immediately added intelligence from the sea.

The regular patrols of the Church of Storms in the Fog Sea had found nothing, and the long-silent black sail ship was nowhere to be found. However, the patrol team discovered a large number of rune fragments left behind by the Aurora Order in a hidden reef area, and all of them had completely failed, leaving no trace of spirituality.

"Continue to keep a close eye on the clinic's movements." Klein's deep, calm voice echoed through the gray fog. "Hanged Man, focus on investigating the shipping route from the Southern Continent to Backlund. A batch of special serpentine variant ore has flowed into the city, which is highly likely related to the abandoned old mine of the Antigonus Family."

The meeting concluded, and everyone left one after another, leaving only the Fool in the hall above the gray fog.

Klein's fingertips moved slightly, and he took out the paper figurine hidden in his cuff, his eyes deep.

After experiencing the ambush in spring and the two powerful interceptions at the summer solstice, the reserve resources deployed by the Aurora Order in Backlund were almost exhausted, and they had been in full hibernation recently, with no further actions.

But the silence of the black sail ship was too abnormal.

This did not look like a rest or hibernation after the forces were damaged, but more like a long-planned silent wait.

It was waiting for a signal.

Perhaps it was the spiritual revival of the new mine in the Southern Continent, perhaps it was the change of tides in the depths of the Sea of Wraith, or perhaps it was the loosening of some unknown seal.

...

A few days later, Water Pump Street, old bookstore.

The shop was full of newly arrived Spirit World dust from the Southern Continent. Abraham lowered his head to organize the goods. After listening to Lu Li's inquiry about the golden serpentine ore, he raised his eyes and spoke the latest intelligence.

"News from counterparts in the Southern Continent says that the quarry did indeed dig up a brand-new variant of top-quality serpentine. One of the core ore samples with a complete golden vein has been packed separately and shipped to Backlund, and is currently stored in the dock warehouse."

He paused, his tone carrying a hint of meaning: "Previous years' variant ores had incomplete veins and were worthless. But this one has a complete closed loop of golden patterns, and the spiritually encrypted information inside likely hides the complete coordinates of the old Antigonus quarry."

"Is there any stock left at the mine?" Lu Li asked.

"No." Abraham tapped the ledger with his fingertips and slowly spoke the key information. "The client personally relayed that this was the last batch of stock dug from the depths of the Southern Continent mine. From now on, he will no longer supply serpentine to the outside world. The stock in the dock warehouse is the last reserve left for you."

Lu Li's eyes narrowed slightly: "Is he leaving Backlund?"

"Not leaving, but completely withdrawing and transforming."

Abraham described the other party's layout: the client had transferred most of his shipping business to a newly established joint transport company in the Dock District, retaining only the long-term lease of the dock warehouse and a few exclusive cargo ships traveling to and from the Southern Continent.

The retreat had been paved long ago, extremely thorough.

Not only that, Old Kohler's employment contract was directly renewed until the end of next year, and the financial aid for the little girl's art school had been paid in full at once, cutting off all worries.

This thorough ending was full of the caution and precaution of leaving early.

Lu Li left the bookstore and walked east along the slowly flowing Hoi River toward the Dock District.

On the stone steps of Warehouse No. 4, Old Kohler was still his usual self, gnawing on black bread in the muggy evening breeze. Seeing Lu Li, he immediately put down his food, a gentle smile appearing on his face.

"My girl has bound all the paintings from this period into a book, titled 'Dock District Stories'."

Old Kohler chatted about his daughter's recent situation, his eyes full of softness.

The cover of the album was the old oak tree at the church entrance that had weathered many storms.

The back cover was the painting she treasured most, encompassing all the warm acquaintances in the Dock District: the kind bakery owner, the old keeper of the Old Book Exhibition Hall, the pretty big sister with the wide-brimmed hat who often helped her, and the mysterious kind person with copper buttons on his backpack whose face she finally drew.

Next to the painting was a line of crooked, childish handwriting: Angel Signpost.

"She always says that you are the angel signpost hanging on the oak tree." Old Kohler said softly, "No matter how far the children run in the Dock District or how crazy they play, as long as they look up and see the signpost, they know there is a home to return to."

The little girl placed the bound album on the church bench every day, quietly waiting for the nameless kind person to appear.

...

In the evening, River Bay District apartment.

Lu Li stood in front of the desk, gently taking out the paintings pressed under the glass plate, opening them one by one to look at them.

In the childish brushstrokes, the purest tenderness and stability of the Dock District were hidden, as well as the few moments of warmth he had in this turbulent city.

After looking at all the paintings, he put the analysis report of the golden serpentine ore into the drawer, placing it with the remains of the shattered snake emblem, the old and new foreshadowings quietly overlapping.

Then he walked to the window to water the ivy. Between the green branches and leaves, two tender new leaves quietly emerged, trembling gently in the muggy evening breeze.

Outside the window, the bell tower of St. Hillan Cathedral chimed the hour on time.

The distant bell toll pierced through layers of heat waves, swept over the bustling streets, and covered the silent undercurrents surging deep within Backlund.

The midsummer night was still muggy and long, and everything seemed calm and peaceful, but everyone knew—

The silence was only temporary; a bigger storm was quietly gathering strength in the dark where no one could see.