Chapter 42: Chapter 42 What is Seen in Books
The city under curfew was not suitable for exploration, and Duncan stayed in the antique shop all through the night—driven by the excitement of setting foot on land, he tirelessly explored the entire building.
The original owner of this body was indeed a heretic, but while he was a heretic he was also a common man who needed a normal social life; he depended on the conveniences modern civilization provided for survival, required communication with others, and day-to-day necessities.
He needed to deal with the entire city.
All of this would leave behind plenty of clues, allowing Duncan to roughly infer the way of life in Plunder City-State and a general idea of this era’s technological level and civilian status, even with his memory fragments being hazy and indistinct.
In a hidden compartment behind the first-floor counter, he found a small amount of cash, including a handful of loose coins and several blue and green bills of varying denominations. These are legal tender commonly used in most City-States, jointly certified and issued by the Governors of the City-States and the Endless Sea Commerce Guild. The primary currency unit is known as the “Sola,” with another currency, the “Peso,” worth one-tenth of a Sola, also circulated. The cash Duncan found added up to just over two hundred Solas, and according to the intelligence from his memories, this amount was roughly enough for a family of three to survive for about a month in the Lower City District.
It seemed that even though business in the shop was dismal and most of his belongings had been donated to the church, the original owner of this body still maintained a basic standard of living—this meant that this “antique shop” had its own stable customer base.
The entire first floor of the shop only had two sections, with two-thirds being the front sales area located before the staircase, and the remaining one-third was the “warehouse” behind the staircase door. There was also a door at the back of the warehouse, which was the building’s back door and presumably the entrance for receiving goods.
The structure on the second floor of the shop was a bit more complex. Apart from a washroom, there were two rooms, one large and one small, as well as a utility room shared with the adjacent building. The two rooms were located on either side of the staircase landing on the second floor; they were fairly clean.
Beyond that, there was a small kitchen on the second floor, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in at least half a month; everything was covered with a layer of dust.
After checking everything, Duncan went back to the main bedroom on the second floor. He looked at the room, which was even smaller than his bachelor apartment, and his gaze fell on the small dresser next to the bed.
There was a picture frame there, inside… was a black and white photo.
In the photo was a family of three: a modestly dressed young couple with a little girl who appeared to be only four or five. They stood in a courtyard setting with evident artificial marks, each wearing a faint smile as they looked towards the camera.
Duncan approached the picture frame, picked it up, and examined it carefully while cross-referencing the blurry and chaotic clues in his memory.
The original owner of this body… was not in the picture.
The people in the photo seemed to be close relatives of this body’s original owner… very dear to him.
As he gazed at the young couple, Duncan felt a faint sense of longing rise from the depths of his memories.
However, more information about the photo remained unclear; it seemed… more memories about them had disappeared from this world along with that last breath of the body’s original owner.
He put down the photo and pondered what level of expenditure such a black and white photograph would be among the commoners of the Lower City District, what stage of development the world’s photography technology had reached, and what principles the equipment used was based upon.
Meanwhile, his gaze shifted to the neatly arranged bed, conjuring a faint sense of curiosity in his mind.
Would a heretic, completely engulfed by the Sun worship, have lots of time to keep a room so tidy on a daily basis?
If the storefront on the first floor was noticeably neglected, how did this bedroom achieve such meticulousness?
He stepped outside the room and went to the smaller room across the staircase, observing the equally tidy bed and desk.
He sorted through his memories, confirming that the original owner of his body had left the shop several days ago to attend a secret congregation of Sun God believers—this was his last departure, the details of the memories were fuzzy, but there seemed to be no impression of cleaning up the house before leaving.
So… was there someone else?
Was there someone else living with this “heretic?” A family member?
Duncan’s brow furrowed slightly as he searched for corresponding clues in his mind while approaching the desk in the small room. His eyes scanned over the neatly stored papers, pens, and stationery, eventually resting on a book.
That book was placed in the most conspicuous position on the desk, with a dark blue cover featuring a pattern of gears and rods. Elegant, ornate letters spelled out the title:
“The Craft of Steam and Gears—General Textbook III”
Duncan furrowed his brows, already vaguely aware that this room should belong to “another person”, yet subconsciously picked up the book.
On the Homeloss, there were no books available for reading, and he had found not a single piece of paper or article to read in the master bedroom or elsewhere in the shop—perhaps this book could help him understand the matters of this world.
After flipping open the cover, the illustrated inner pages caught his eye—it was indeed a “textbook” detailing engineering crafts and the principles of steam machinery, and between the sections of the textbook, there were many annotations left by the book’s owner.
The delicate and pretty handwriting seemed to belong to a young woman.
Duncan rubbed his forehead; the original owner of this body seemed to have no relatives or friends, as most of the images or “impressions” in his memory carried a cold and lonely color, but after sorting through the memories several times, he finally vaguely “recalled” someone… a girl with dark brown hair.
That appeared to be the only figure the heretic named Ron might consider a concern when he breathed his last breath.
Duncan’s gaze fell upon the pages of the book; he didn’t bother to read the specific technical jargon and diagrams, but specifically looked at sections like the editor’s introduction and discussions of concepts.
A line of text suddenly caught his eye:
“…Flames, or more precisely, the specific flames released by burning the fat from the deep sea and the crystalline minerals from the shallows, are the cornerstone that supports the operation of modern society and the protection of our civilization…”
“The prosperity and order of modern civilization are built upon the foundation of flames and steam… The convenience of clean electricity cannot replace the exorcising effect of fire, nor can it keep large machinery running smoothly and consistently… Experiments have proven steam to be the most stable form of power when affected by deep space influences…”
“In this chapter, we will discuss the three typical architectures of steam cores and elucidate the mechanical principles and design concepts within…”
Duncan’s eyes slightly glazed over.
He remembered the gas lamps, torches, oil lamps commonly seen in the sewers and the gas street lamps on the city streets, as well as the curiosity he felt when he saw the electric lamp in the shop.
So… that was the reason behind all these “strange” situations?
Even at a certain risk, to use open flames in the sewers, and to light the streets with gas lamps when electric power had reached a certain level of development, was it all because “fire” could resist “dangerous and bizarre” encroachments to some extent?
Indescribable emotions welled up in Duncan’s heart, and his gaze continued downward, to the complex diagrams, dense annotations, and the earnest notes left by the book’s owner.
That was machinery he couldn’t understand at all.
And it definitely wasn’t the “steam engine” he knew from his previous life.
The precise gears, the extremely complicated cylinders, and the interconnected pipes and valves between the parts far surpassed the concept of a steam engine; they resembled more of a device that might leap out of a fantasy catalog, exuding an aesthetic that was contradictory and bizarre.
This was the “heart” that supported the advancement of this world’s civilization.
In contemplation, Duncan slowly put the book back in its original place.
Because he completely failed to understand it.
As an Earthling, even though he had been a teacher, he couldn’t comprehend the steam power mechanisms in this book that had developed to the ultimate state.
Nevertheless, a vague enlightenment emerged at the bottom of his heart:
The development of civilization in this world seemed to follow a path starkly different from his understanding.
To survive in a world full of crises, the realm of mortals also presented a bizarre and fantastical appearance, but no matter how strange the world, as long as it could still be called “civilization”, there must be reasons and logic for its development up to this point.
The gas lamps burning in the sewers, the electric lights lit in the shops, and the steam mechanisms depicted in books made from the combined wisdom of countless people, all subtly revealed a kind of… resilience.