Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 148

An invitation, but also a constraint.

Mrs. Elliott clearly recognized Green's value in deciphering the manuscript, but she was more wary of the risks that came with it.

She wanted to use this "key," but also wanted to keep the "key" and the "doors" that might be opened within a minimal scope.

Green's heart began to pound again.

This was far more complex and profound than he had anticipated, merely "making a copy." He not only saw the manuscript, but also became embroiled in a secret collaboration proposal with key figures in the society due to its content and his own knowledge of writing.

This undoubtedly increases the risk of exposure, but it also means that he may have the opportunity to continue to access the manuscript and even learn other deeper secrets.

This could be an unexpected shortcut, albeit one fraught with difficulties, to completing the "Garden of Prosperity" mission and uncovering the truth behind his own and his parents' disappearances.

"I need time to consider, madam." Green did not agree immediately; caution was necessary. "Moreover, I must ensure that this will not endanger my family."

"A wise answer."

Mrs. Elliott nodded. "Careful consideration is warranted. Until you make a decision, please keep silent about what you saw and heard today. Now, let's leave."

She led the two out of the special collections room, locked the heavy iron door, and then took them back to the relatively ordinary archives area, as if the thrilling scene had never happened.

But Green knew that everything was different now.

That ancient manuscript, written in Chinese characters and predating the Fifth Age, had captivated him like a huge mystery and vortex.

The mission of "Flourishing Garden" may not be merely about the knowledge in the manuscript, but rather about a deeper connection to the hidden history behind the manuscript, concerning "time travelers," "observers," and even higher-level beings.

Mrs. Elliott led the two out of the special collections room, locked the heavy iron door, and then led them back to the relatively ordinary archives area.

The smell of old paper in the air seemed to ease a bit, but the turmoil in the hearts of the three was far from over.

Standing before a long table in the general archives area, Mrs. Elliott was about to say something when Anaïs spoke first.

"Mrs. Elliott,"

She slightly curtsied, her tone respectful and earnest, "Thank you for your trust and guidance today. Seeing those unimaginably ancient documents with my own eyes, and the possible connections in my grandfather's manuscripts, has deeply moved me."

She paused, her hands unconsciously tightening their grip on her handbag. "I—I have a presumptuous request. I don't know—"

Am I eligible to apply to borrow materials from the Society's general archives related to ancient semiotics, local folk rituals, especially those concerning highland tribes and early star worship? I would like to study these materials more systematically, perhaps to better understand the mysteries left by my grandfather, and also to lay some foundation for possible research collaborations.

This request came as a surprise to Mrs. Elliott. She had thought that after what had just happened in the special collections room, Anaïs would need time to process the shock, like Grimm, and might even back down due to fear.

Unexpectedly, this sparked an even stronger thirst for knowledge and a greater drive to take action in the young woman.

Mrs. Elliott scrutinized Anaïs. A trace of paleness lingered on the girl's face, but her eyes, inherited from her grandfather and filled with curiosity and determination, shone brightly. She had seen that look countless times on Alfred Violet's face.

A complex mix of emotions—surprise, relief, and perhaps a touch of melancholy for the descendants of the deceased—fleeted across Mrs. Elliott's eyes. The lines on her face seemed to soften slightly.

"It seems that Alfred's influence on you is deeper than I thought." Mrs. Elliott's voice was no longer as flat and distant as before, but carried a hint of warmth. "His passion for knowledge and spirit of exploration seem to have continued in you."

Anaïs's eyes reddened slightly when she heard her grandfather's name, but she nodded vigorously: "My grandfather is the person I admire most. Although I was unable to inherit all of his knowledge, I hope to follow in his footsteps and at least understand the few words he left behind."

Mrs. Elliott hesitated for a moment. Allowing a girl with a relatively simple background to access the Society's ordinary archives was far less risky than letting Green access the special collections. Moreover, Anaïs, as Alfred's granddaughter, already possessed a certain "academic pedigree," making her more easily accepted within the Society. More importantly, if Green ultimately agreed to collaborate, Anaïs, as his partner and introducer, with her research background and abilities, would make the entire "collaboration" appear more natural and easier to control—Anaïs could serve as a buffer and a point of observation.

"In principle, the Society's general archives are open to approved researchers," Mrs. Elliott said slowly. "Using your grandfather Alfred Violet's reputation and contributions as collateral, it shouldn't be too difficult to apply for a 'trainee researcher' or 'private reader' status for you. Many of the older members of the Society remember him and would be willing to make things convenient for his descendant."

Anaïs's eyes immediately lit up with surprise: "Really? Madam! This—this is wonderful!"

Mrs. Elliott nodded slightly, a rare, faint smile playing on her lips: "Of course. Alfred was also an honorary member of the Society back then. Although he didn't come often, his papers on the connection between ancient nautical charts and celestial phenomena are still cited today. It's only reasonable to apply for an identity for you."

She then changed the subject, her tone becoming more serious: "However, Anaïs, you must understand. The Society is not a monolithic entity. Although President Holland is highly respected, the ideologies of several senior committee members are not entirely aligned. Some people do not fully agree with me or the direction of my research in semiotics and cryptic literature, and some are even wary of me."

She was subtly reminding Anaïs that factions and divisions also existed within the Society. Gaining status meant entering this circle, but it could also inadvertently draw one into delicate academic or personnel situations.

"I understand, Madam," Anaïs nodded solemnly. "I will be careful with my words and actions, focusing solely on my academic research, and will never get involved in any unnecessary disputes. I am already very grateful for the opportunity to access these valuable materials."

"Very good." Mrs. Elliott nodded in satisfaction. "I will process the necessary paperwork for you as soon as possible. It will take a few days; you will need to fill out some forms, and you may also need a recommendation from a current full member—I will handle that. In the meantime, you may return home. Be sure to remain absolutely silent about everything you saw in the special collections room today, and about the content of our conversation."

"Yes, madam," Green and Anaïs replied in unison.

"As for you, Mr. Morris," Mrs. Elliott looked at Green again, "my offer remains valid. Once you've thought it through, you can contact me through Anaïs, or in a safer manner. Remember, caution is not only for your own sake."

"I understand, madam. I will consider it carefully and give you an answer as soon as possible," Green replied respectfully.

When we left the History and Archaeology Society, the sky was even more overcast than when we arrived, as if a winter snow was brewing. There were even fewer pedestrians on the streets.

The two walked in silence for a while until they were far away from the school building. Anaïs then let out a long sigh of relief, as if a huge burden had been lifted, but the excitement in her eyes had not faded.

"Green, did you see that? Those words—you actually recognize them! And the secret of Emperor Roselle—" she whispered, unable to hide her excitement, "This is incredible! Mrs. Elliott actually agreed to let me join the Society—this is an opportunity I could never have dreamed of!"

Green's feelings were far more complex than hers. Anaïs had gained a relatively safe and promising opportunity to enter academia, while he was thrust into a more dangerous and secretive choice. The contents of that manuscript, especially the warnings about the resurrection of the "Black Emperor" and the possibility that Emperor Roselle had a backup plan, weighed heavily on his mind like a boulder.

"Annaïs," Green stopped and looked at her intently, "The Academy has factions, and Mrs. Elliott also warned us about that. After you obtain your identity, be extra careful when handling information. Don't easily trust anyone, and don't reveal what we truly witnessed today, especially about my knowledge of that script. Just stick to what we agreed on before: you're here to study your grandfather's manuscripts."

Anaïs calmed down and nodded. "I understand. I'll keep what happened today to myself. In the academy, I'm just a junior who's interested in my grandfather's research and wants to learn the basics." She paused, a hint of worry flashing in her eyes. "And what about you? Mrs. Elliott's proposal—isn't it very risky?"

"Very significant," Green didn't deny, "but it might also hold the answers we need. I need to weigh things carefully, and I also need to—learn more." He thought of "Flourishing Garden," and of Lillian. Perhaps it was time to probe more deeply into "Flourishing Garden's" true intentions regarding this manuscript.

"Whatever decision you make," Anaïs said firmly, "I will support you. We are comrades, aren't we? Besides, I now have the opportunity to get some information from within the Society that might be helpful."

Looking into Anaïs's clear and determined eyes, Grimm felt a warmth in his heart. In this world full of mist and danger, having a trustworthy companion is an invaluable thing.

"Thank you, Anaïs," he said sincerely. "Let's go back first. You need to prepare the materials for joining the Society, and I—I need to think carefully about my next step."

Snowflakes began to fall sporadically, landing on their shoulders and hair. They quickened their pace, heading towards the port authority.

Behind me, the gray-white building of the History and Archaeology Society stood silently in the increasingly dim sky, like a silent witness, guarding countless secrets buried by time.

The two hired a horse-drawn carriage at the street corner.

The relatively enclosed space inside the carriage isolated them from the cold wind and prying eyes, allowing them to relax their tense nerves a little.

We traveled in silence, with only the rumbling of wheels on the stone pavement and the occasional calls of street vendors.

Anaïs gazed at the fleeting street scenes outside the window, her eyes bright, clearly still processing and anticipating her new identity.

Green closed his eyes to rest, but the image of the Chinese characters on the tattered page and Mrs. Elliott's sharp eyes, which seemed to see right through people, kept flashing through his mind.

The carriage stopped at the side gate of the port authority. After paying the fare, the two hurried through the somewhat deserted corridor and pushed open the heavy wooden door leading to the underground office.

A familiar warmth, a blend of old books, coffee, and a faint dusty scent, wafted in, instantly dispelling the biting chill from outside. The fireplace, though small, burned steadily, maintaining a pleasant temperature throughout the room. On the desk, the potted plant Lillian had left behind looked vibrant under the light.

"Phew—finally warmer." Anaïs took off her heavy coat and scarf, hung them on the coat rack by the door, and gently rubbed her slightly reddened hands.

Green also took off his coat and walked to his chair to sit down.

The soft leather backrest enveloped him, allowing his tense body to relax slightly. He didn't turn on the light, but instead fell into deep thought, relying on the flickering firelight from the fireplace and the daylight streaming in from the window.

The contents of that ancient document were etched into his mind like a brand.

Chinese characters predate the Fifth Epoch? Were they brought by Mr. Fool? Or were there other time travelers besides myself and Mr. Fool?

This information sent chills down his spine.

The Law of Extraordinary Properties Convergence: Russell Gustav is the Black Emperor, possessing a means to resurrect the dead—this is incredibly powerful.

The document contains an astonishing amount of information, which is closely intertwined with his memories of his past life and the hidden rules of this world.

The author of this manuscript was clearly a "senior" with a profound understanding of the extraordinary world and also fluent in Chinese. He (or she) was observing, recording, and perhaps even trying to summarize patterns to warn future generations.

Did "Fan Hua Yuan" want this manuscript for the knowledge within? Or to find clues about this "senior"?

Mrs. Elliott proposed a collaborative research project.

This means he will be more deeply involved in the Society’s secret affairs, directly confronting the manuscript and the risks behind it.

The good thing is that he has now completed his mission at the Prosperous Garden, which is enough for him to give an explanation. Next, he needs to contact Vivian.

Risk and opportunity are like two sides of the same coin.

Just as his thoughts were in turmoil, a familiar, slightly bitter aroma wafted over.

He looked up and saw Anaïs carefully placing a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. The dark liquid swirled gently in the cup, reflecting the flickering firelight from the fireplace.

"Here you go, Green. I added some sugar and milk; I hope you like it."

Anaïs said softly, her face showing concern, "You look like you need this."

Green looked at the cup of coffee, then at Anaïs.

Anaïs's face still held a blush of excitement, but her eyes had regained their usual gentleness and attentiveness. In this world full of uncertainty and danger, such simple and sincere care seemed especially precious.

>