novelraw Chapter 123: Edison and the Brotherhood of Light
Chapter 123: Edison and the Brotherhood of Light
Lin Jie's wildly futuristic investment at Barclays United Bank was like a bomb quietly dropped into the deep waters of the City of London.
It created no ripples on the vast surface, but within certain narrow, hidden circles beneath the water, it triggered a powerful undercurrent of speculation and wariness.
Lin Jie was still completely unaware of this at the moment.
After completing his capital layout for the future, he switched his director's mindset, accustomed to planning and strategizing, back to scholar mode.
He dedicated the last few peaceful days before his departure entirely to the magnificent library within the Underground City, a place redolent with the fragrance of knowledge and the weight of history.
Since his next destination was likely the mysterious Black Forest of Germany that Julian had mentioned, conducting a thorough preliminary study of that region's folklore, legends, and historical development was a professional instinct for Lin Jie as the tactical core.
Just as he was immersed in literature about the Wolpertinger and ancient Germanic forest gods, an unexpected noise shattered his hard-won tranquility.
A young girl wearing the Association's clerical uniform quietly approached his reading table, looking at this newcomer who had rapidly gained fame among the younger generation in the Underground City with a gaze full of curiosity.
"Mr. Lin? My apologies for disturbing you, but there is a Mr. Wang from the North American Affairs Liaison Office outside who specifically asked to see you."
"North American Affairs Liaison Office?" Lin Jie's brow furrowed slightly.This was a niche internal department of the Association he had never interacted with before. Its main responsibility was coordinating the exchange of intelligence resources between the London Branch and the North American Branch in New York. Theoretically, it shouldn't have any professional overlap with a local hunter like him, who had just finished an Irish mission and was about to embark on a European journey.
But the fact that the other party could find him here so precisely, and also possessed an Eastern face, made the implications rather intriguing.
Lin Jie closed the book in his hand. He understood this was likely a probing meeting from an unknown faction.
In a quiet lounge outside the library used for informal discussions, Lin Jie met this mysterious Mr. Wang.
He was a shrewd and capable-looking middle-aged man, appearing to be in his forties or fifties. His features retained the typical characteristics of the southern Chinese ethnic group, yet he carried none of the pedantic conservatism of the ancient empire.
On the contrary, he exuded a strong sense of the pragmatism and pioneering spirit unique to the New World.
He didn't wear the long queue of a Qing dynasty official, but sported a neat, Western-style short haircut.
He also wasn't dressed in the restrictive suits and top hats of an English gentleman, but wore a pair of practical dark blue work pants and a high-quality shirt of American style.
He looked like a pioneer who had just stepped out of New York or San Francisco.
"Mr. Lin, I've long heard of your great name," Mr. Wang said upon seeing Lin Jie, a smile of familiarity and closeness between countrymen appearing on his face.
His Chinese carried a standard Suzhou accent. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Wang Qingnian. Of course, for the convenience of these foreign devils' memories, they prefer to call me Kingston Wang. I am the head of the I.A.R.C. London Branch's North American Affairs Liaison Office."
"I am not a field hunter," he admitted frankly, pointing to his clean but large-knuckled hands. "I'm more accustomed to dealing with ledgers, numbers, and those flesh-eating, bone-spitting financial swindlers on Wall Street. You can think of me as a financial agent within the Association."
Lin Jie looked at him calmly, knowing that behind the other's warm and self-deprecating opening lay a probe.
Sure enough, after brief pleasantries, Wang Qingnian immediately got to the point.
"Mr. Lin, your investment move at Barclays Bank was truly breathtaking," he said, seemingly praising, but his shrewd eyes observed the subtle changes in Lin Jie's expression through his glasses.
"You seem to possess an astonishingly strong confidence in alternating current, a future technology that is still publicly denounced as heretical nonsense by the great Mr. Thomas Edison in our North America."
Lin Jie understood. He knew his capital maneuver, which he thought was secret, had ultimately disturbed a sensitive chain of interests in these uncharted deep waters, alerting those within.
"I merely harbor personal curiosity about some interesting new developments," Lin Jie replied ambiguously, leaving no opening.
Wang Qingnian smiled. It was a knowing smile of mutual understanding.
"Mr. Lin, we are both sensible people. There's no need to play these charades that only the British enjoy," he said slowly, taking out a finely crafted silver cigarette case engraved with the Rockefeller family crest from his pocket and offering Lin Jie a cigarette.
"You may not know this yet," Wang Qingnian said, lighting a cigarette, taking a deep drag, and slowly exhaling smoke that carried the scent of capital. "In our North American Branch, the most powerful enemy we face is not the Wendigo or Skinwalkers from Native American myths and legends."
"Our true enemy is a secret society that venerates the great inventor Thomas Edison, hailed as the Wizard of Menlo Park, as its spiritual leader. It promotes radical scientism and human supremacism."
"The Brotherhood of Light."
"This organization's members include top scientists, inventors, and industrial magnates of unimaginable wealth from America's East Coast. They believe science is the only light that can dispel all ignorance and darkness in the world, dedicated to purifying this world with the power of technology."
"And over the past several years," Wang Qingnian's voice turned cold, "our I.A.R.C. North American Branch has been waging an invisible war against this Brotherhood, which appears righteous but possesses dangerous exclusivity and destructive desires, over the dominance of future energy."
"The core of this war, as you might have guessed, is the battle between direct current and alternating current technological paths!"
"Edison's Brotherhood of Light views the direct current they champion—safer but with extremely low transmission efficiency—as God's current and a symbol of orderly civilization."
"And they see the alternating current invented by that mysterious genius from the Balkans, Nikola Tesla—with its extremely high transmission efficiency but full of unknown dangers—as the devil's whisper and a source of chaos that invites unknown evil gods!"
"So," Wang Qingnian finally pinned his shrewd gaze onto Lin Jie's face like a thumbtack. "When a newly minted ace like you, who has just completed several miracles and has a mysterious background, confidently bets that massive sum of money, regardless of cost, entirely on the alternating current camp, which our North American Branch also sees as the future..."
"Tell me, as someone specifically tasked with handling these matters, how could I not have reasonable speculations about your true identity and purpose?"
He had laid all his cards on the table. He had identified Lin Jie as a high-level agent from the centralized power center of the Geneva Supreme Council, who also favored the future of alternating current and was attempting a secret layout in the impending, white-hot current war.
Faced with this financial agent's logically clear, pressure-filled final interrogation, Lin Jie smiled.
It was the smile of someone who had seen through the game board.
He neither admitted nor denied.
He said one quiet sentence to this probing countryman.
"Mr. Wang, have you ever considered that when a sufficiently powerful alternating current passes through a coil amplified by a special geometric structure, it will not merely be capable of lighting bulbs."
"It could even tear through space, transmitting energy wirelessly over long distances through the air in ways we cannot yet comprehend."
Under Wang Qingnian's stunned, disbelieving gaze upon hearing this statement that transcended the era's understanding, Lin Jie stood up from the sofa.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Wang," he said, extending his hand. "I look forward to the day in the future when we meet again in the New World and can witness together that new world illuminated by alternating current."
This brief clash over future technology ultimately ended with Lin Jie stunning this shrewd financial agent with an even more profound and mysterious prophecy.
Wang Qingnian respectfully presented his business card and repeatedly promised in a tone of awe that all of Lin Jie's future investments and actions in America would receive the full support of their I.A.R.C. North American Branch.
After handling these complex public affairs spanning both the inner world and the mundane world, on the afternoon before his departure for Calais, Lin Jie finally had some time truly to himself.
He didn't notify anyone, traveling alone by the most ordinary public carriage and train to the tranquil Richmond in London's western suburbs.
He didn't knock on the Westons' door. He merely stood across a quiet street lined with giant oak trees, like an ordinary tourist out for an afternoon stroll.
He saw Arthur, wearing a new straw hat and humming a country tune, leisurely trimming flower branches with a large pair of garden shears, no trace of past gloom on his face.
Mrs. Weston was sitting on a white-painted bench, knitting a sweater while gazing at her husband and daughter with a happy, gentle expression.
And Lily, that adorable little girl who had brushed shoulders with distortion and death, was crouching on the neatly trimmed lawn.
There were no mysterious spirals or mazes around her. She was simply using her innocent eyes to intently observe a white butterfly dancing gracefully on a rose.
The scene before him was peaceful and beautiful, brimming with the atmosphere of daily life, like a warm, bright oil painting by Monet.
The corners of Lin Jie's mouth curled up into an involuntary, warm smile of relief.
Then he turned, put his hat back on, and walked towards the train station.
Next stop, Calais.