After drafting the document’s header, Barton was preparing to add some details into the document when he realized that Vernal hadn’t submitted any supporting information.
Does he think that he can apply for funding with just a letter by simply relying on his relationship with the foundation? Barton looked around the table and muttered to himself in puzzlement.
In his opinion, Vernal wasn’t an arrogant archaeologist. Apart from being feisty and impatient, he was considered a typical Loen gentleman in all other aspects.
Under normal circumstances, when one requested funding from the Loen Relic Search and Preservation Foundation, they had to provide a lot of information, such as photos, ancient supplementary documents, and other related information other than a cover letter that described the project. Otherwise, the foundation wouldn’t be able to do a review and make a decision, much less spend large amounts of gold pounds to send a team to the project location for inspection.
Or rather, could it be that Vernal Fnarr was just too careless and forgot to send the information out as well? Of course, with the relationship between Vernal and the foundation, it’s entirely possible the upper management will send a person or two to arrange a meeting to verify the information when they see it… Yes, as a friend, I should still help him… Barton shook his head and didn’t think further. He stood up and walked to the bookshelf.
He then stretched out his right palm and used his fingers to stroke the back of a book spine, selecting the information he needed.
Finally, he took out a few books and journals, and combined his various viewpoints to give a detailed description of the history of the Sivellaus mountain range in the document he was about to submit.
“In the scientific community, there’s a common viewpoint:
“In a period that’s unknown to be long or short, the Solomon Empire and the Tudor Dynasty coexisted in the Northern Continent, and their border could very likely be situated where the Hornacis mountain range and the Feynapotter Highlands are today.
“There’s a high chance that the Hornacis mountain range’s extension in Sivellaus County was a contested ground between both parties…”
Barton didn’t endorse Vernal. He only provided references to show that there were indeed possible ruins of the Fourth Epoch in the mountains of Sivellaus County.
This way, if it was proven that Vernal was lying, no one would hold him responsible, because all of the descriptions came from famous historians. Barton had only extracted snippets in a selective fashion.
At the end of the document, he listed out his references:
“…’Private Historical Research of Sivellaus County’, Azik Eggers, Khoy University’s Department of History lecturer…”
After completing this document, Barton read through it from top to bottom and modified his choice of words and certain sentences.
Then, he took the draft and entered the clerk’s room next door. He asked them to type up a formal document with mechanical typewriters.
The Loen Relic Search and Preservation Foundation had always hired plenty of female employees. From the lowest level of ordinary clerks to the deputy director of the upper echelons, at least half of them were female.
Barton actually had some things to say about this, but he didn’t, nor did he dare to object. He could only choose to accept the state of things.
Of course, he had to admit that when he needed to wait, it was quite nice watching these young female clerks busying themselves.
At least it enriches the colors here… As Barton listened to the tapping sounds, he mumbled silently.
Once the documents were done, he signed and submitted them. Then, just like before, he continued with his work as usual.
This included but wasn’t limited to the trial projects, providing professional opinions and gathering research materials for the foundation’s papers and commentary.
A day quickly passed, and Barton left the company at six in the evening. He took a public carriage and returned home after an hour.
This was a common occurrence in all the major cities in Loen. That was why high tea became a trend—after lunchtime from 12 to 1, it would be half-past seven or eight in the evening before people reached home. If not for high tea sessions, most people would definitely be abnormally hungry.
Of course, this was only limited to the middle-class and above. Many poor people might only eat two meals a day. Moreover, couples with the conditions to work would both be working. They would have to prepare dinner after returning home at around eight in the evening. And the food wasn’t for their enjoyment.
“Vernal came to visit you in the afternoon,” Barton’s wife said casually as she helped him take off his coat and hat.
“Vernal?” Barton was taken aback momentarily.
The archaeologist who discovered a Fourth Epoch ruins in Sivellaus County had returned to East Chester County?
As soon as he said that, Barton frowned and muttered to himself, He really did forget to send the information, so he came back personally?
No, there’s no need to go through so much trouble. The Royal Mail is rather reliable.
Besides, he should know that I’ll definitely be at the foundation if it’s not a weekend. Yes, I might’ve been sent elsewhere for an inspection review…
With this in mind, Barton asked, “Where is he?”
“He only waited in your study for fifteen minutes before he left,” Barton’s wife said.
Barton pressed, “Did he say which hotel he’s living in? When will he come again?”
The archaeologist, Vernal, was from East Chester County, but he wasn’t a Stoen resident. He didn’t have a place here.
“He didn’t say. He seemed to be in a hurry.” Barton’s wife paused for a moment before continuing, “He looked very impatient.”
Barton touched his receding hairline and nodded gently.
“I’ll be in the study.”
His study was on the second floor, and there were many bookshelves and some porcelain placed there. He wasn’t too passionate about porcelain, but he actively searched for unique items.
After some searching, Barton didn’t find any note or letter left behind by Vernal.
He quickly threw the matter to the back of his mind.
This was his usual rule—he tried not to be troubled by work once he got home.
After dinner, he shared a beautiful time with his wife and children, then quickly washed up and went to bed.
In the dead of night, he suddenly woke up and opened his eyes.
Ever since the danger he encountered during an archaeological excavation ten years ago, Barton had gained a sense of awareness—spiritual perception—that exceeded what ordinary people had. He could always sense some movements that others couldn’t detect. For example, others might realize that someone was looking for them when visitors arrived at the door, but Barton could sense whether the other party was related to him once they walked down the corridor.
Someone sneaked in… Barton suddenly sat up, his eyes wide open.
He looked at his wife who was sleeping soundly beside him and didn’t wake her up. With very slight movements, he flipped out of bed and removed the double-barreled hunting rifle hanging on the wall.
After grabbing the rifle, he gently opened the door and looked down the corridor.
This place was shrouded in the darkness of the night, and a faint crimson glow outlined certain objects.
Barton didn’t hesitate. He entered the corridor and scanned the area.
However, he didn’t find the burglar.
Was I mistaken? Barton turned around, feeling a lack of confidence.
There was no sign of any of the rooms on the second floor being opened.
After thinking for a while, Barton came to the door of the study, grabbed the handle, and gently twisted it.
The door opened silently. Everything inside was immersed in the darkness, resembling all kinds of monsters.
After drawing the curtains, Barton carefully examined the interior with the aid of the moonlight, and he confirmed that the interior was exactly the same as he remembered.
I really am too sensitive… An aftereffect of the nightmare yesterday? Barton exhaled and left the study quickly.
Behind him, the curtains that were drawn lightly swayed, as if a gust of wind was blowing.
The next day, Barton continued his daily routine.
He kissed his wife and children, took a rental carriage, read newspapers, brewed black tea, read letters…
Eh, there’s another letter from Vernal. Barton felt relieved and opened the letter.
However, there was nothing in the letter. The sender seemed to have forgotten to stuff the letter into the envelope.
Has Vernal been suffering from absentmindedness recently? Barton glanced at the envelope in his hand and suddenly realized that the pattern on it was a little strange.
This was an envelope with a commemorative sense.
According to what Barton knew, many high-end hotels in Backlund and Stoen City would provide special envelopes and paper to their guests. It was equivalent to a tourist souvenir.
Which hotel is this? Barton put the envelope to his nose and prepared to smell the fragrance on it. It was also unique and recognizable.
In the next second, he smelled a faint scent of blood.
