Decoding the Afterimage

Barton's final question—"Who exactly are you?"—though no longer carrying hostility, remained a barrier of layers that could not be avoided.

Lin Jie was well aware that his identity crisis had been temporarily resolved, but a crisis of trust regarding his "abilities" had only just begun.

He had to provide a reasonable explanation that a professional organization like the I.A.R.C. could accept; otherwise, he would forever remain an "external variable" to be suspected and guarded against.

"Before answering that question, perhaps we should move to a place more suitable for conversation." Lin Jie glanced around the filthy alleyway, thick with the stench of blood and sulfur, and suggested with a smile, "I assume you have some kind of... how should I put it, 'safe house' or something similar?"

His deliberate use of the term "safe house" caused Barton's eyebrows to twitch once more.

This young man seemed to have an extraordinary understanding of how organizations like theirs operated.

Barton exchanged a look with Marcus, and finally, he nodded. "You're right; this is certainly not the place to talk. Follow us."

After Marcus efficiently cleared the scene, the three of them quickly left the alleyway that had witnessed too many secrets, disappearing into the labyrinthine night of the Whitechapel District.

They took several winding turns, eventually arriving in front of an unremarkable shop with a sign that read "Corleone Clock Repair."

Using a strangely shaped brass key, Barton opened the shop door with a complex sequence of pauses and rotations.

Everything inside the shop was in perfect order, with all manner of pendulums and gears hanging on the walls, as if it were a museum of time.

In the back room, Barton stood before a wall covered in pendulums and twisted the largest one in a sequence of "three turns left, two turns right."

"Click."

With a soft sound, the entire wall swung inward, revealing a deep passage leading underground.

Lin Jie followed behind them, sighing to himself.

This was what a professional secret organization should look like; it was countless times more sophisticated than the rat's nests he had been hiding in before.

The end of the passage opened into a spacious, dry basement.

Unlike the surface, which was filled with the classical atmosphere of the Victorian era, this place possessed a style of simplicity and utility that felt ahead of its time.

A detailed map of London hung on the wall, marked with various mysterious symbols using different colored pins.

On a long table sat various precision instruments made of brass and crystal that Lin Jie could not identify.

This was clearly one of the I.A.R.C.'s strongholds in the Whitechapel District.

"I think we can continue our previous topic." Barton gestured for Lin Jie to sit in a chair, then took a seat opposite him.

Marcus stood behind Barton like an iron tower, arms crossed, maintaining his vigilance.

"Who am I? That question is simple." Lin Jie leaned back in his chair, adopting a relatively relaxed posture. "My name is Lin Jie, an unfortunate Chinese man who appeared on the wrong ship at the wrong time. If you want to check, it should be very easy to find the list of surviving laborers from the Sea Witch."

He voluntarily confessed his identity, a gesture of goodwill.

"We will certainly verify that." Barton nodded, clearly not entirely satisfied with the answer. "But that is not what I am asking. What I want to know is, how can an ordinary person make such precise predictions about the actions of a UMA? The information in that diary was incomplete."

"Mr. Lin, you used a word in your previous explanation—'feeling.' I am very curious to know what kind of experience your so-called 'feeling' actually is."

Barton's gaze seemed as if it wanted to dissect Lin Jie's soul entirely.

He had not been fully convinced by Lin Jie's earlier rhetoric about "observation and association," and he keenly sensed that there must be a deeper secret hidden behind it.

Lin Jie fell silent.

This was the core issue he could not avoid.

He could not lay bare the existence of his transmigrator's cheat, as that would be equivalent to telling the other party, "I am an alien being you cannot understand," which would only lead to him being sent to a laboratory.

He had to provide a reasonable explanation that could be "compatible" with the power system of this world.

He thought of the revolver that helped him calm down and increased his reaction speed during the fight; he thought of the handheld lamp that guided him at sea.

He realized that in this world, many supernatural powers seemed to be related to some kind of "medium" and "ritual."

Perhaps his abilities could be packaged in this direction.

"Mr. Barton," Lin Jie said slowly, not answering directly but asking a question of his own, "I would like to ask a question first. When you track a UMA, do you use any... special mediums?"

He pointed to the Aether Fluctuation Detector that Barton had used on the table.

Barton was slightly taken aback by the counter-question, but he admitted it frankly: "That is correct. We call them 'Spiritual Mediums.' The core of this detector is a specially processed UMA crystal that is extremely sensitive to spatial fluctuations. It helps us perceive 'anomalies' that ordinary people cannot detect."

"I see." Lin Jie wore an expression of "sudden realization"; this was the opening he needed.

"My situation is perhaps a little similar to your instrument." Lin Jie weighed his words, beginning his carefully prepared narrative. "I cannot explain where this ability comes from; perhaps it is innate, or perhaps it awakened accidentally after experiencing certain things on that ship. I can only tell you what I feel."

"I call it... the Touch of Afterimage."

He proactively threw out the name of his ability.

"When my body, especially my blood, comes into contact with items that have been deeply entangled with 'anomalous events,' my mind receives extremely vague, fragmented information, like echoes. I call them the 'afterimages of events.'"

He began to describe his experience in detail, but with a clever artistic touch:

He described the Touch of Afterimage not as a passive trigger, but as an active skill that required "blood as a medium."

This made his ability sound more like some ancient, bloodline-based occult art of this world, rather than a cheat that appeared out of thin air.

He emphasized the "limitations" and "dangers" of this ability.

"The information I receive is extremely blurry and full of noise, like a corrupted old dream. Most of the time, I only receive intense emotions—fear, anger, sadness."

"I have to rely on myself to interpret these fragmented pieces of information and piece them together. And..." Lin Jie pressed his temples at just the right moment, a look of pain appearing on his face, "every time I perform this interpretation, it places a huge burden on my spirit."

"If the Afterimage I come into contact with is too powerful, it's like... like that time on the Sea Witch. I almost went completely insane from mental exhaustion."

He perfectly integrated the "cost" of his ability into his explanation; an ability with significant flaws and costs is far easier for people to believe and accept than one that is flawless.

Finally, he provided a definitive explanation for his astonishing performance in the Jack the Ripper case: "At the crime scene on Berner Street, I touched the wall and felt an Afterimage of malice identical to that of the Mist Walker in the diary, which allowed me to confirm its identity."

"As for predicting Mitre Square, I cannot truly foresee the future. I simply... while interpreting the diary, by repeatedly touching that sketch, I caught a trace of an extremely vague conjecture left behind by the Afterimage of the Cartographer, Mr. Karl, regarding the activity patterns of this UMA."

"I am merely a translator, someone who translates the words he was unable to finish."

He cleverly attributed his greatest achievement—the prediction—to the deceased hero Karl. This was both reasonable and a sophisticated rhetorical tactic to win the other party's favor.

The entire basement fell into a long silence.

Marcus stood to the side, dumbfounded; he was completely unable to grasp such an ethereal ability based on "perception" and "interpretation."

Barton, meanwhile, kept his head lowered, his fingers tapping rhythmically and unconsciously against the tabletop.

He was digesting, analyzing, and evaluating the credibility of Lin Jie's words.

Mystical arts of bloodline awakening? Psychometry? Mental Afterimages? Interpreting fragmented information? A massive mental burden?

Although Lin Jie's explanation sounded incredible, it unexpectedly fit perfectly into the I.A.R.C.'s cognitive framework regarding the power systems of the Underworld.

Their archives contained records of all sorts of bizarre, ancient abilities that required mediums and costs to activate.

Gypsy crystal ball divination, the whispers of leaves from Celtic druids... these all shared similarities with what Lin Jie had described.

Most importantly, this explanation perfectly covered all the suspicious points surrounding Lin Jie.

Barton raised his head, his sharp eyes now devoid of all scrutiny and suspicion.

"I see... a 'retroactive sensory' ability based on blood and contact." Barton provided a highly professional definition for Lin Jie's ability. "Moreover, possessing such an ability, you also possess a... terrifyingly calm 'tactical brain' capable of converting those fragmented pieces of information into precise action plans."

"Mr. Lin," Barton stood up and took the initiative to extend his hand toward Lin Jie. "I retract all my previous offenses. Now, let me reintroduce myself."

"I am Barton Chris, a Level 3 Investigator for the I.A.R.C. It is my great honor to fight alongside such a powerful 'Interpreter' as yourself."