Old days, dice and investigator's manual

Okay, new information: the FBI has a very old cat...

However, Isaac now understands why Verca was able to mobilize manpower to cause trouble in Palmer. As a member of the Ogilvy family and a cardinal of the Golden Bough Church, regardless of her status, she naturally has plenty of people willing to serve her.

"By the way, since Verka wanted my books, why didn't she just ask for them directly instead of sending someone to steal them?" Isaac asked. "Given her status, there's not much I can do if she forces me to buy them."

Carlo put his feet off the edge of the table: "The answer is simple. She needs those books but doesn't want anyone to know she's looking for them. Hidden in the books Lessing left behind are things... things that the fewer people who know about them, the better."

Isaac paused for a moment, then Carlo suddenly said, "You know there are things in those books that aren't really meant to be known by others, but you don't know exactly what they are, right?"

"……Yes."

When his adoptive father Edward was alive, he was always candid about his research, but he was very secretive about his book collection and wouldn't let Isaac touch it casually.

Isaac had assumed it was just an old man's collecting hobby, since those rare manuscripts were indeed quite valuable, until he noticed something unusual while tidying up his study.

Edward, Edward's adoptive father, has a wastebasket in his study. The old man has a habit of crumpling up unsatisfactory drafts and throwing them in. Later, when he has time, he will take them out to look at those unsatisfactory ideas from the past. Therefore, the wastebasket is only emptied once every now and then.

Once, when Isaac was emptying the wastepaper basket, he unfolded the discarded manuscripts one by one and found a crumpled letter with "Isaac" written at the top, which seemed to be a letter intended for him.

Edward's letter was short, just a few lines, mainly about how to handle his affairs if he died, but he stopped when he got to the part about what to do with the books.

The letter mentioned that the books "need to be handled with care," saying "you can decide where they go yourself," but then crossed that out and replaced it with "perhaps give them to someone more suitable to keep them." After several revisions, it was finally crumpled up and thrown into the wastebasket.

Isaac realized that his adoptive father, Edward, had some concerns about how to handle the books, which was preventing him from making a decision. But Isaac had no idea what those concerns were.

Isaac had thought his adoptive father would tell him someday, but his adoptive father's sudden death left him with only doubts, and he had to deal with the books himself.

"Lessing has always been indecisive and hesitant in his actions, needing someone to give him a kick before he can make a decision," Carlo said. "He doesn't know many people in Palmer who can give him a kick, so he must be struggling with what to do with those books. Therefore, you probably didn't get this information directly from him."

"That's definitely not it. I only found out when I was tidying up the study and found those crumpled letters in the wastebasket. He probably tried to tell me something several times, but in the end..."

"That's right. With his personality, he always hesitates and procrastinates when making decisions, afraid of choosing the wrong path and running out of time, leaving you with a mess."

"So what's hidden in those books?" Isaac asked. "Since you know their value and that Verca wants them, you should tell me something."

"How would I know?"

Isaac was taken aback: "You didn't know?"

He had assumed that since Carlo had kept the book, he must have already read it thoroughly.

"Of course I don't know. I haven't looked through your pile of books." Carlo shrugged. "I just cut them off and threw them back in Vista. I have no interest in opening them for you to check the contents."

"You didn't even know what was inside, yet you risked offending Verka by stealing it?"

"Although I don't know the specifics, I know what Lessing has been researching all her life, so I have a general idea of ​​the direction. Besides... I saw someone trying to steal it, so I'll just steal it too. Anyway, something that would make that young lady go to such lengths to steal can't be something trivial, so I'll get it first."

Isaac: "..."

This reason sounds very much in Carlo's style.

"It seems I'll have to look it up myself to figure out what's going on," Isaac said.

"Whatever. But since Lessing left the book behind, the instructions don't contain anything that would send him to the stake just by looking at it, otherwise he would have burned it long ago instead of leaving it to cause you trouble," Carlo said. "Given his personality, he most likely encrypted it."

Following this line of thought, Isaac reasoned that if those books truly contained any secrets, they wouldn't simply write them on the title page for someone to read. Encryption, concealment, and disguise were all possible methods.

Even the books themselves might only be part of the clues; the real core lies elsewhere...

He was already mentally planning which book to start with tonight, but Carlo glanced at the clock on the wall, stood up, and said, "Alright, we've learned enough. At this hour... well, we should be able to see the sunrise. Let's not delay."

"Sunrise?" Isaac snapped out of his reverie. "It's afternoon now."

"Do I look like an idiot who can't tell the difference between morning, noon, and night?" Carlo gestured to go outside. "The sunrise time varies depending on the location. You have to learn to respect the rhythms of different regions."

Isaac, confused, followed Carlo out of the office and back down the corridor.

Upon reaching the vicinity of the stairwell, Carlo did not go downstairs. Instead, he took a few steps back and stopped directly opposite the stairwell... and then squatted down.

"Boss, what are you doing?"

"Waiting for the sunrise."

Isaac glanced at the dusty window in the corridor, then at Carlo, to make sure the other man wasn't joking.

But Carlo had already waved to him: "Don't stand, squat down. This is the best spot to see it. If you miss it, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Isaac hesitated for a moment, but eventually squatted down next to Carlo in the corridor, facing the empty stairwell.

He felt he must look really stupid.

"Boss, what exactly are we...?"

"Don't rush, it'll be soon." Carlo gestured for quiet. "Look, the sunrise is brewing, the horizon is about to be torn apart, and the light will soon descend upon this land—"

Footsteps came from the stairs, and Isaac's gaze naturally fell towards the top of the stairs.

Then a bald head slowly rose up from the stairwell.

Isaac: "...?"

The head reflected the light from the corridor's overhead lamp; it was smooth and shiny, without a single stubble of hair, like a polished ivory ball.

Immediately afterwards, the face of a middle-aged man appeared. He had no beard, a dignified appearance, and a steady demeanor cultivated from years of management experience. He was wearing a black trench coat uniform from the FBI, and his tie was neatly tied.

Under the light, his bald head resembled a rising sun, dazzling and radiant.

"Behold, the one with the radiance above his head, the one who embodies the sunrise, the most dazzling jewel of the entire Bureau of Investigation—Director Patrick has arrived." Carlo's voice echoed softly.