novelraw Chapter 161: Tracing the Roots
Chapter 161: Tracing the Roots
The "Anvil" bar at the Munich branch didn't feel like a place for hunters to relax and have fun. It was more like a post-war arsenal that still carried the scent of gunpowder and steel.
The air here lacked the romantic blend of rum, sea salt, and tales of adventure found in London's "Old Captain" bar.
There was only the roasted malt aroma of Bavarian dark beer, the greasy smell of roasted pork knuckle, and the scent of sweat mixed with gun oil clinging to the hunters.
No exaggerated UMA skulls or trophies hung on the walls.
There were only rows upon rows of well-maintained, standard-issue weapons that had belonged to fallen comrades.
Each one stood like a silent tombstone, speaking of this place's iron-bloodedness and glory.
At this German-style rough and hearty celebration feast, the Iron Triangle team, personally introduced by Supervisor Klaus as honored guests, received considerable attention.
The German hunters, whose eyes usually carried a Germanic arrogance and xenophobic sentiment, now all raised their one-liter clay beer mugs.
They boomed with loud voices, offering warrior's respect to this foreign squad that had fought alongside them.
They might still not fully approve of the Iron Triangle's individualistic freelance hunting style, but they respected strength.After hearing from Klaus about Lin Jie's groundbreaking petrification hypothesis, William's precise interception, and Julian's unique weakening abilities, they also felt a genuine curiosity.
Amidst this boisterous gathering, the most eye-catching was the seemingly casual yet intellectually sparking and information-exchanging academic discussion between technical expert Gretchen and Lin Jie.
"I'm very interested in your 'Salt-Core Bullet' tactical concept, Mr. Lin," Gretchen said, holding a mug of ale, but her ice-blue eyes were clearer and brighter than any drunken hunter's.
"That thinking pattern of using available materials for rapid alchemical modifications during combat already transcends conventional tactics. It's more like an art... in applied engineering."
"Your friend in London, that Mr. Arthur Conan, must be an extraordinary Armament Blacksmith."
"He is the best," Lin Jie replied calmly. He could sense this German female genius's interest wasn't in the combat itself, but in the underlying knowledge system that drove that battle.
"Supervisor Klaus said you are studying the relics of the Cartographer, Karl von Stein," Gretchen shifted the topic, getting to the point.
"Karl is a legend in our German branch. He wasn't just a respected hunter, but an encyclopedic scholar."
"Many of his investigation notes involve attempts to combine ancient Germanic mystical runes with the cutting-edge 'Ether Physics' of his time. It's just a shame that many of his theories were too ahead of their time, even denounced as 'heresy' by some old-school scholars back then."
"For example, he once proposed an extremely radical theory. He believed that certain powerful UMA, or certain domains or items deeply saturated with spirituality, themselves emit a unique 'spiritual frequency' akin to radio waves."
"And this frequency could produce extremely subtle yet measurable resonance with the surrounding environment, even with the human subconscious."
"He even submitted a research proposal codenamed 'Demonic Tone' because of this."
"He attempted to develop an instrument capable of receiving and analyzing these spiritual frequencies, thereby achieving over-the-horizon early warning and species identification of UMA. It's just a shame..."
She shook her head regretfully, "His proposal was ultimately and ruthlessly rejected by the headquarters' academic committee due to 'insufficient theoretical basis' and 'technical impossibility.'"
Lin Jie's heart skipped a beat.
"Spiritual frequency."
"Resonance."
"Over-the-horizon" early warning.
The astonishing theory proposed years ago by Karl, a man living in the 19th century, aligned at its fundamental logic with Lin Jie's knowledge system originating from the 21st century.
Seeing the shock Lin Jie couldn't hide in his eyes, Gretchen knew she had guessed right.
This Eastern youth before her was the same kind of person as Karl.
"It seems you understand his theory well," she smiled slightly, a look of joy at finding a kindred spirit appearing on her usually calm face. "Then, as repayment for your assistance in this mission, I think I can perhaps offer you a little... technical support."
She took out a precision instrument case from her pocket. The case was reinforced with waterproof canvas and brass, heavy in weight.
"After Karl's failure, I inherited his unfinished work. I secretly turned his then-theoretical instrument into reality by combining it with the electromagnetic wave theory recently discovered by Mr. Hertz."
She opened the case, revealing an "Ether Spectrum Analyzer," its appearance complex and full of steampunk aesthetic.
"Its functionality is still very unstable. But it can indeed receive and analyze those weak spiritual frequencies within a certain range."
This academic exchange, containing both probing and mutual appreciation, ultimately, in a manner rich with the meaning of inheritance, gifted Lin Jie a tool of extraordinary significance for his upcoming journey.
The day after the gathering, when the Iron Triangle team formally bid farewell to the Munich branch, their status had already shifted from a closely watched foreign squad to honored allies receiving the highest courtesies.
On the same day, an encrypted telegram personally drafted by Lin Jie, detailing the next phase of the action plan, was sent to the headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland, via the Munich branch's Hermes Ether Communication Array.
This time, he was no longer requesting a mission. Instead, in the name of a rapid response force tacitly granted high autonomy by Sir Henderson, he submitted a brand-new freelance hunting strategic objective.
The core of the strategy had only one focus: to continue their planned Black Forest itinerary from before coming to Germany, while investigating the truth behind the death of Karl's younger sister, Lina.
And to eliminate that unknown UMA called "Swamp Tree Fiend" by Karl, lurking in the shadows of his hometown. Lin Jie named the operation "Roots."
The headquarters' reply came faster than Lin Jie imagined.
In less than three hours, an encrypted reply telegram from Sir Henderson himself had arrived.
The content of the telegram still carried the old man's habitual style of implication and subtext.
"Action approved. Karl is the Association's valuable asset;
his regrets should be mended by us. Additionally, regarding that 'mysterious Mentor' who once saved Karl, there are no records of such a person in the headquarters archives. Perhaps some roots are buried deeper than we imagine. Wishing you a pleasant hunt in the forest."
"No records?" Lin Jie frowned, looking at the last sentence.
A hunter capable of easily slaying a UMA and who recruited Karl into the Association would have no records in the Association's archives.
That in itself was the greatest anomaly.
The answer might lie within that ancient Black Forest awaiting them.
On the day before their departure for Freiburg, Lin Jie gave himself a holiday.
He politely declined Julian's invitation to visit the Munich Museum of Ancient Art to admire Dürer's prints.
He also didn't shut himself in his room for meditation and recovery like William.
He changed into cheap, coarse cotton casual clothes bought from a local clothing store.
Then, like a foreign traveler curious about the Bavarian capital, he merged alone into the vibrant, bustling crowds of Munich's streets.
He had no clear destination, just walked casually, acting as a pure "observer."
He saw Bavarian burly men wearing traditional leather shorts, guzzling dark beer, loudly arguing in their rustic-accented German about the increasingly tense political relationship between the recently crowned young Kaiser Wilhelm II and the old Chancellor "Iron" Bismarck, who had controlled the German Empire for decades.
He also heard some well-dressed men sitting in corners, looking like middle-class intellectuals, discussing with a complex tone mixed with superiority and a sense of crisis the issues of Slavs and Jews continuously pouring in from the empire's east.
The air was filled with a contradictory, unique atmosphere belonging to this "Gilded Age."
It was the intense confidence and pride born from their nation's and industry's strength.
And a profound fear and rejection of future uncertainties, change, and outsiders.
Lin Jie sat quietly in an inconspicuous corner, experiencing this immersion into history itself.
He didn't drink alcohol, just ordered an authentic Bavarian white sausage, eating it unhurriedly with sweet mustard.
He calmly examined this soil of nationalism and racism, already churning with undercurrents beneath its peaceful surface.
Just as he was about to conclude this investigative lunch.
The suppressed quarrel between a couple at the neighboring table, who looked like minor civil servants from out of town, caught his attention.
It was a man around fifty, slightly overweight, with a meticulously trimmed beard, carrying an air of officialdom.
His face bore the swollen, reddish flush from long-term alcoholism and unfulfilled ambitions.
His eyes revealed dissatisfaction with reality and a pathological arrogance about his own talents.
He was using an impatient tone laced with the authority of the "head of the household" to berate his wife, who looked much younger and very submissive, in a low voice.
"...How many times have I told you! Klara! We can't stay in that damn, cow-dung-smelling-air countryside place of Braunau am Inn anymore!"
"I am a man with aspirations! I need a bigger stage! To showcase my damn 'talents' that are always unappreciated by those jealous superiors of mine!"
"Munich! Or Vienna! That's where I should be!"
"But, Alois..."
His wife, who looked gentle and somewhat timid, argued back in a pleading whisper.
"Our savings are already running low. And I'm about to give birth soon. The doctor said I need a quiet, stable environment for the pregnancy."
As she spoke, she unconsciously stroked her noticeably rounded belly.
"Child! Child! That's all you think about!"
The man named "Alois" impatiently cut her off.
He angrily drained the remaining beer in his mug.
Then, in a drunken, fantastical, and self-touching tone, he said, "That's precisely why I need to come to the big city!"
"I want to create an environment worthy of his great future for our soon-to-be-born son!"
"I've already thought of a name for him!"
A morbid, irrational fanaticism flickered in his eyes as he gestured with his left hand.
"He shall be called..."
"Adolf."
"Adolf Hitler."
"A name destined to make the entire German nation proud!"
Lin Jie's hand, which was holding a knife to cut the white sausage, paused.
He slowly raised his head.
His gaze pierced through the noisy, greasy air of the beer hall.
And landed on the face of that pitiful and terrifying drunkard, lost in his grand delusions.
Their eyes met.
When the man named Alois saw Lin Jie's face with its Eastern features, he instinctively frowned.
Disgust and rejection toward foreigners leaked from his drunken eyes.
He rudely made an obscene, insulting gesture at Lin Jie.
Then, dragging his pale-faced, terrified wife, he cursed and disappeared into the boisterous crowd of the beer hall.
Lin Jie didn't react.
He just sat there, slowly putting the last bite of the now-cold white sausage into his mouth.
Chewing it carefully, yet he could no longer taste anything.