Fantasy Writers 1860

Chapter 122 "Feeding—Out" (Two Chapters Combined)

"—The price of progress, a necessary sacrifice?" Dorian put down the stack of speech notes in his hand, looked up at the ceiling with a helpless expression, and said, "Will there be limitations of the times, helpless choices, great explorations, growing pains of development, and tortuous progress, before finally trusting in the wisdom of future generations?"

Lily looked up and stared at Dorian with a strange expression.

This guy is talking nonsense again.

Where did he learn all these strange things? He couldn't have just come up with them all on his own, could he?

At this moment, Lily and Dorian were at Inspector Lesder's house, which had practically become their base of operations.

As for what kind of base it was, it was naturally their base for investigating the cult.

They now realize that the cult's influence is extremely deep, and the official forces can probably no longer be relied upon.

"According to my investigation, this congressman who actively opposes the Environmental Protection Act has actually been funded by a capitalist named Rex Wright from Lentinion." Inspector Reid stood up and paced around the living room. "This obscure capitalist is mainly involved in colonial trade and has a rather conservative attitude towards demi-humans."

Dorian flipped through the congressman's speech and saw some accounts, travel records, and corresponding photos.

The amount was enormous and outrageous.

If these things were made public, aside from anything else, the corruption scandal alone would be enough to end this congressman's political life.

The detective is indeed a detective; his basic detective skills are solid, and he has uncovered so much dirt on people.

"Interestingly, this Mr. Wright not only funded members of Congress to actively oppose the Environmental Protection Act, but also funded members of Congress to support the Environmental Protection Act." At this point, Inspector Redd couldn't hold back any longer.

"There's a hedge?" Dorian said. "What exactly are they trying to do? Finding supporters and opponents on the same side—what's the point besides keeping this bill stuck here? Unless—"

"Unless this bill remains stuck here indefinitely, then who would most like it to neither pass nor be rejected, but simply remain stuck indefinitely?" Lily continued.

"The Order," Dorian interjected, "Judging from all the signs we've gathered so far, the Order seems to be trying to stall for time, as if waiting for some special turning point—"

"That's right." Inspector Reid nodded. "The earliest that could happen is the last day of this month, November 30th, the date of the final trial they've mentioned—"

"The end of the month? It's only a few days left! That doesn't sound good—is Mr. Wright still investing in real estate in Londinion?"

Perhaps because I was in the civil engineering field in my previous life, I am naturally more sensitive to this area. I immediately spotted the words "Rex Wright Construction Company" in the full page of text.

"Yes, his businesses are very diverse and scattered; he seems to do a little bit of everything, which is why I generally call him a capitalist." Inspector Reid stopped in his tracks.

"What projects has this construction company been working on lately?" Dorian asked casually.

He knew this seemed a bit off-topic, but out of sheer curiosity, he asked anyway.

"That project is huge. You know the Parliament building modernization project? They're the ones who contracted it," Inspector Reid replied.

That's a really big project.

Wait, the Parliament House?

Given that this capitalist is likely involved with the religious order, could the construction company that contracted the modernization project of the Parliament building also be problematic?

There have been no reports of delays or setbacks in the Parliament building project; on the contrary, newspapers have been reporting encouraging progress and early completion.

"When will this parliament building renovation project be completed?" Dorian asked, but he already had a pretty good idea of ​​the answer in his mind.

He had also seen the construction site of the Parliament building from afar, and based on his experience with similar projects in his previous life, he could roughly judge its progress.

Inspector Lesder was momentarily confused as to why Dorian had suddenly asked this question. He briefly recalled the statement in the Time newspaper, then a jolt ran through him as a bold possibility suddenly occurred to him.

"November 30th —" Inspector Reid said slowly, shocked by his own audacious idea.

It's also the last day of the month.

"As far as I know, on the day the Parliament building renovation project is completed, the Queen, nobles from all walks of life, the Prime Minister, and all cabinet members will attend the celebration ceremony for the completion of the new Parliament building—" Inspector Leeds' voice trembled more and more. Although he had long expected that the Immaculate Dawn Order would definitely do something big, he hadn't thought about exactly what kind of big thing they would do.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, capturing the Queen of Brittany, all the nobles, the Prime Minister, and the cabinet members would be an incredible feat.

Could this be the moment they've been waiting for?

The room fell into a deathly silence; the air seemed to freeze.

Lily, her hands resting on her lap, subtly clenched the hem of her dress, breaking the silence first: "Queen, Prime Minister, the entire cabinet has been wiped out—the entire empire will descend into chaos."

"Then they can take advantage of the situation to jump out and take over this power vacuum." Dorian realized that everyone understood what he meant, so he continued, "Perhaps the cabinet won't be completely wiped out; there might still be members of the cult among them. They're planning this so that they can seamlessly take over power and seize control of the empire."

"Explosion!" Inspector Reid realized something at that moment, his palms already drenched in cold sweat. "The Order loves to set off explosions. They call it 'purifying evil with a fire from nowhere'—the Parliament Building. It's been under renovation for so long; it's probably already packed with explosives everywhere!"

"Did the Order use explosives for that prophetic 'fire without a source'?" Dorian sighed. "They can create explosions without explosives, not even without illusory books. Wasn't the Mayfair Theater like that?"

Although the Mayfair theater bombing has been hastily closed as an accident, it remains a dark cloud hanging over Inspector Leeds's mind.

How did they manage to do it? Without using magic or magical devices, or even a magic book?

It couldn't possibly be the divine magic they were talking about.

He had learned that the cult had arranged for someone to bribe theater workers to regularly coat the underground gas pipes with a slightly corrosive liquid, thus creating the illusion that the pipes had leaked due to years of disrepair.

The fact that they would go to such lengths to do something so unnecessary proves that their divine magic is fake. They are completely incapable of predicting the arrival of the fire without a source, and this so-called heavenly fire must have been created by them.

But how exactly were they made?

"Without evidence, and with the authorities unaware of the extent of infiltration, we cannot stop the celebration on the 30th," Lily calmly stated the current situation.

"I do have a bold idea that might break the current deadlock," Dorian said.

"I'm planning to write a novel, which might inject some fresh energy into the long-stalled Environmental Protection Act," Dorian said with a wicked smile.

"A novel?" Inspector Lesder was a little confused by Dorian's erratic train of thought.

He didn't say exactly what he was going to write, but said that since there were no other good cards to play right now, he might as well try to use public opinion to give it a push and then let them look forward to it.

Even if it ultimately proves useless, it's simply another excellent novel being created.

Afterwards, the group briefly planned their exploration of the parliament building construction site before departing.

Back home, Dorian sat down at his typewriter in his room and typed out a short, somewhat nonsensical title with lightning speed:

Feed It

In the original timeline, this was a short science fiction story published by Japanese author Shinichi Hoshi in 1958, and it was even included in a junior high school Chinese textbook in China.

The story tells of a mysterious, bottomless hole that appeared in a village after a typhoon. A businessman then set up a "hole-filling company" to collect all kinds of garbage and waste and dump them into the hole, which greatly improved the city's environment.

However, in the end, the small stone that was initially thrown into the hole fell from the sky, and the story ended there.

Dorian still remembers the chilling feeling he had when he closed his Chinese textbook after reading this short novel.

Instead of directly depicting the scene of garbage falling from the sky and burying the city, it stops at a small falling stone, leaving the reader with endless room for imagination through this clever use of space.

People throw all their troubles and hidden dangers into unseen deep holes, pretending that these problems never existed. But nature has never provided such a convenient "bottomless pit." All the problems that are temporarily buried will eventually return to humanity itself in their entirety one day in the future.

The current situation reminded him of this work.

After a strong wind, the sky cleared. In the suburbs not far from the city, a village had been damaged by the storm.

However, the damage wasn't too severe; only a small, long-abandoned church outside the village was blown down by the strong winds, and no one was injured. The next morning, the villagers, upon hearing the news, began to discuss it amongst themselves.

Dorian's fingers flew across the typewriter keys, the crisp, clear tapping echoing in the quiet room. A simple yet thought-provoking story quickly took shape on the manuscript.

Without pausing, he wrote down the short story word by word in one go.

After writing the last period, Dorian stopped what he was doing, took the manuscript out of the typewriter, slowly read it through, and only after confirming that there were no mistakes or omissions and that it was not glowing did he finally put down the iron bucket he had prepared, lay down on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, on the top floor of a luxury hotel in the Lentini East district, there is a room that is not visible on the blueprints, and...

In a nearly unknown meeting room, there was a long table in the center, on which was a huge map of the empire, covered with dense symbols and lines.

The dim candlelight flickered, and the people sitting around the table were shrouded in its shadow. The person at the head of the long table, wearing a silver mask, rested his hands on the table.

"One of our clerics died in a previous operation."

The air in the entire room suddenly froze.

"Dead?" someone exclaimed. "That was someone who wielded the power of the Illusionary Book! How could he die in an event of that magnitude?"

"It was the government." Another sharp female voice sneered. "Although the Cavendish family started the conflict, according to reliable intelligence, it wasn't the Cavendish family who killed our patriarch, but the government."

"Furthermore, they used phantom books that we have never seen before."

"An unprecedented illusory book caused the death of one of our leaders?" Another leader, dressed in a dark red robe, spoke sharply. "Although she has always been somewhat careless with her opponents, what kind of illusory book could have given someone of her strength no chance to escape—"

"Could it be that the Academy of Literature has found some ancient texts again? It can't be some recently refined fantasy book, can it?"

"That's unlikely; it's been almost a hundred years since a new fantasy book has been elevated—"

"They've noticed us! They're clearly hostile; we must retaliate immediately!"

"Calm down." The masked figure at the head of the table, whose face was obscured, raised a hand to quell the commotion. "Our plan has reached its final stage. The Final Judgment is about to arrive, and then we will truly step onto the stage of history. The entire empire will be ours—disrupting the overall plan now for the sake of a dead patriarch will only render her sacrifice meaningless."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "Let's make our own arrangements. Even if those few Tom, Dick, and Harry from the Academy of Literature find out something, so what? As long as they can't figure out the secrets of our Fire Without a Source, nothing they do will make a difference."

"The renovation of the parliament building must be accelerated to ensure everything goes smoothly. Have someone inspect it again in a few days. All other preparations also need to be expedited, and—"

"How's the progress with Langdon?"

The liaison officer bowed slightly: "He has completed the design and manufacture of all the pre-designed devices. The blueprints and instructions have been handed over to our engineers, and we are now conducting final adjustments."

"Understood." The masked man at the head of the table tapped his fingertips lightly twice on the table. "Once the arrangements at the parliament building are inspected, it's time to take care of things. This world doesn't need so many people who know the truth."

"Kill him?"

"No, create a void monstrosity, then stage it as an experimental accident." His voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "He knows our Sourceless Fire technology too well—or rather, he is the creator of Sourceless Fire, that kind of person..."

The new world is uncontrollable.

"Yes, High Priest."

"Praise be to the Lord, whose fire will purify all things in the world, and we will follow Him into the new kingdom of heaven—" It is unknown who first recited this prayer.

"Praise be to the Lord, whose fire will purify all things in the world, and we will follow Him into the new kingdom of heaven—" Then everyone present began to chant in hushed tones.

After a chorus of murmured agreement, the meeting quickly adjourned.

The next morning, Dorian mailed the completed manuscript of "Feed Out" to Dickinson of Bentley Weekly.

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