novelraw Chapter 172: The Bullet Enigma
Chapter 172: The Bullet Enigma
The Iron Triangle dragged their exhausted bodies to the entrance of the "Black Forest Cuckoo" clock shop at dusk the next day.
Their condition was wretched, as if they had just returned to the mortal world from purgatory.
The one hundred and twenty-nine cuckoo clocks on the wall chimed with their usual crisp and orderly "tick-tock" sounds.
But this serene symphony composed of time could not soothe the lingering aura of decay that still clung to the three returnees.
The silent old clockmaker still sat behind his workbench piled high with precision components, like a machine that never tired.
He did not look up at these three uninvited guests, but the hand he used to polish gears paused ever so slightly when they pushed the door open.
"We need a quiet room, medical supplies, and a large amount of food and water."
William's voice was unusually hoarse. Beneath his tattered coat were countless ghastly, bleeding wounds.
"And also... a Hermes Ether Communication Array that can directly connect to the London Branch or the Geneva Headquarters."
The old clockmaker stopped his work.He slowly raised his wrinkled face, his eyes coldly sweeping over his disheveled colleagues before him.
He saw the deathly pallor still lingering on Julian's face, the large, terrifying blackened wounds on William's hands.
He also saw the heavy weight, condensed from witnessing sorrow and death, hidden beneath Lin Jie's calm, dark eyes.
He asked no questions.
A "Gatekeeper" who had experienced life and death could judge the severity of a hunt by scent alone.
He rose from his chair and lightly tapped the large wall covered with cuckoo clocks behind him with a finger stained with machine oil.
"Creak—"
From within the wall came the sounds of intricate, complex gears meshing and springs releasing.
The solid wall recessed inward, then slid to one side like a bank vault door.
It revealed a secret passage leading to a place of deeper darkness.
"Everything you need is down below."
Having said this, the old man sat back down at his workbench, immersing himself once more in the "tick-tock" sounds that isolated him from the outside world's disturbances.
The basement of the clock shop was an I.A.R.C. standard safe house with an industrial style, completely different from the classical, nostalgic shop above ground.
It had a ventilation system, an independent steam generator, abundant medical supplies and alchemical materials, and a well-maintained new-model Hermes Ether Communication Array.
All equipment was arranged with German-style rigorous efficiency.
The next twenty-four hours were a precious period of post-battle recovery for Lin Jie and the other two.
After injecting an Association-specially formulated mental energy replenishing nutrient solution, Julian fell into an eighteen-hour slumber.
With Lin Jie's help, William treated his own ghastly wounds with sutures and disinfectant ointment, then also fell into a deep sleep.
Lin Jie was the one in the team with the least physical injuries but the one carrying the most information mentally. He did not sleep a wink all night.
He solemnly placed the suit jacket wrapped around Lina's skeletal remains in the cleanest, quietest corner of the safe house, as if enshrining a holy relic.
Then he sat before the cold ether communication array and compiled all the details of the "Root-Seeking" operation into a highly encrypted action report.
The report's contents included the Wolpertinger's goodwill, the Swamp Tree Fiend's Mimicry and the "Digestive Space" it derived, and the final tragic yet coincidental purification ritual.
The report was sent separately to Barton at the London Branch, Klaus at the Munich Branch, and Sir Henderson at the Geneva Headquarters.
But at the end of the report, regarding the discovery of that old, standard-issue bullet casing, he hesitated.
In the end, he chose to conceal it. He did not write this potentially disruptive, uncertain "bomb" that could cause waves within the Association into the official report.
For now, this secret could only be known by the three of them.
At noon the next day, Julian and William woke up one after the other.
A small post-battle debriefing meeting concerning the mysterious bullet casing was convened at the metal table filled with the smell of disinfectant.
Lin Jie gently placed the bullet casing, wrapped in velvet cloth and corroded beyond recognition, in the center of the table.
"I'd like to hear your thoughts," he said calmly.
William, the experienced weapons expert, picked up the small bullet casing first.
He rubbed the base of the casing with his thickly calloused fingers, trying to identify its "identity" from the blurred inscription.
"The caliber... looks like a .44 Henry flat-nose bullet," he said uncertainly. "It was a type of rifle ammunition popular during the American Civil War, but its primer design leans more towards the European Chassepot rifle cartridge."
"It's a rare hybrid design from a transitional period. I've only seen similar samples in the Association's older weapon catalogs."
His gaze grew solemn.
"One thing is certain, the production year of this bullet predates 1870."
William's judgment confirmed the antiquity of this bullet casing from a weapons perspective.
The erudite Curator, Julian, provided a more subversive supplement from a broader historical perspective.
He did not touch the bullet casing. Instead, he pressed a concealed call button next to the telegraph machine, connected to the internal communication line.
A piercing buzzer sounded for a moment, then a hoarse and impatient old man's voice came through the crude receiver attached to the telegraph machine.
It was the "Clockmaker" from upstairs.
"What is it?" The old man's tone was icy.
"Belloc," Julian gave his surname, then issued a concise, professionally worded instruction containing archival terminology.
"I need to apply for access to 'Lilac-4' level clearance historical archives."
"Search category: 'Equipment R&
D Department - Weapons - Ammunition'."
"Time range: 1845 to 1855."
"Keyword: Chassepot primer."
The other end of the receiver fell into a half-minute silence, as if the clockmaker was verifying the validity of Julian's clearance and request.
Finally, his voice sounded again, uttering only one word.
"Wait."
Then the communication was unilaterally cut off.
Julian, however, paid it no mind. He calmly walked back to the table and poured himself a cup of black tea.
"Now we just need to wait," he explained to the confused Lin Jie. "A third-level liaison point like Freiburg certainly doesn't have the clearance to directly connect to the Geneva central database. But as an 'information node' for a certain region, they typically back up a portion of non-core archives in the most primitive and secure way—'microfilm'."
Sure enough—
After they waited for about an hour, the safe house's heavy iron door was slowly pushed open from the outside.
The old clockmaker walked in expressionlessly, holding what looked like a heavy lead-lined archive box in his hands.
He placed the archive box heavily on the metal table, then turned and left without a word, like a delivery courier.
Julian eagerly opened the cold lead-lined box. Inside, there were no paper documents.
Only dozens of small black microfilm reels were neatly arranged in slots.
And a hand-cranked portable microfilm viewer produced by the German company "Zeiss".
With practiced ease, Julian loaded a film reel labeled "1848 - Ammunition - Mark I" into the viewer.
Then he cranked the handle and brought his eye close to the cold eyepiece.
Yellowed, hand-drawn black-and-white design blueprints and documents, filled with the dust of history, flashed rapidly across his retina.
A "microfilm" movie condensing the I.A.R.C.'s century-long history of weapon development was screening for him alone.
"Found it!"
After who knows how long, Julian suddenly let out a low cry of ecstatic delight!
He stopped cranking and turned the eyepiece towards Lin Jie and William.
"Come and look!"
Lin Jie and William immediately leaned in.
Through the tiny eyepiece, magnified dozens of times, they saw a somewhat blurry but recognizable hand-drawn black-and-white design blueprint.
The caliber, primer design, and casing length of the ammunition depicted on the blueprint all matched the rust-covered bullet casing on the table!
Below the design blueprint, a line of old German script in a flowery font caught the eyes of all three.
"I.A.R.C. First-Generation Guardian Universal Rifle Standard Ammunition, Mark I Type, Design Year: 1848."
1848!
This year was older than the history of many European royal families.
A brief text note below the title regarding the ammunition's distribution range struck heavily at everyone's hearts.
"...Due to its complex manufacturing process and expensive alchemical material costs, this model of ammunition was soon replaced by the more cost-effective Mark II type after being put into service."
"According to incomplete statistics, the total production of Mark I type ammunition did not exceed five thousand rounds. Its distribution range was strictly limited to..."
Julian's voice trembled slightly with shock as he read this part.
"...was strictly limited to the Association's twenty-seven core council members, and the elite hunters personally designated by them!"
The entire safe house instantly fell into silence. Everyone's gaze subconsciously focused on the rust-covered bullet casing on the table.
The mysterious Mentor who had saved Karl and severely wounded the Swamp Tree Fiend back then was actually one of the members from the very pinnacle of the Association's power.
A series of questions coiled around Lin Jie's brain like venomous snakes.
Why?
Why would such a figure, who should have been stationed at the Geneva Headquarters, appear alone in a remote forest of the German Empire?
Why, in Karl's memory, did the mysterious Mentor clearly use a giant axe, yet a bullet appear in Lina's hand?
Was his encounter with Karl truly an insignificant coincidence?
And the most crucial, unexplainable point.
If he was one of the legislators representing the Association's highest order.
Why was there absolutely no record of this person in Sir Henderson's highest-level archives?
And why would the Association forcibly seal away this rescue case, which should have been regarded as a "heroic deed"?
Lin Jie took the bullet casing, which carried too many secrets, back into his own palm.
He could feel the immense vortex from the distant past hidden beneath its rough surface.