Involving "Hidden Knowledge"

Ten o'clock at night, second floor of the hotel, Woodpecker Inquiry Office.

The reception hall was carpeted in red, furnished with old sofas and coffee tables.

One of the meeting rooms beyond the corridor.

The room was a little over ten square meters. Several gas lamps were lit at once, illuminating the four walls covered in dark green diagonal-patterned wallpaper until they gleamed, leaving almost no shadows on any of the objects.

Fan Ning sat in a soft armchair upholstered in light purple velvet. Across the dark redwood table sat Lord Viadlin.

He looked at the two identical dinner plates before them.

A huge, steaming thick-cut steak from Nipruo Western Ranch, drizzled with black pepper sauce; chilled mashed potatoes dotted with raspberries, strawberries, and chopped black grapes; fried mullet meatballs piped with cream and sprinkled with mushroom powder; and a small glass of Piodo Winery red wine rippling with amber hues.

"Just something thrown together." Viadlin cut off a juicy piece of steak, stuffed it into his mouth, and continued through great mouthfuls of chewing, "Eat first if you haven't eaten."

Even when lowered, his voice shook the eardrums.

"Oh? Oh." Fan Ning answered. Hunger overwhelmed his surprise, and he immediately picked up his utensils.

The steak was so fragrant and tender he nearly bit off his own tongue. The fruit mashed potatoes were cool and soft, sour, sweet, salty, and savory. The meatballs were crisp outside and tender within, fragrant through and through, with a marvelous layered taste. Finally, he drank the Piodo red wine, its tartness and light mouthfeel mingling with rich fruit aromas and a sharp kick in his throat.

Fan Ning cleared everything in just ten minutes, then slumped back in his chair and watched someone come in to take away the plates.

Had he been too careless and perfunctory with his first few meals after crossing over?

For the first time, he experienced such intense appetite and satisfaction.

He even felt inspiration for continuing First Symphony emerging.

Should he say something polite about how delicious the food was first...

"If I hadn't heard of Anton's death and rushed back early, you wouldn't have seen me." Viadlin spoke as he wiped his mouth.

"..." Fan Ning's unformed pleasantries died before they could be spoken. He had no idea how to respond.

"How much did this meal cost?" he asked instead.

"If it was cooked by that young fellow downstairs, not much. A little over one pound and a few shillings."

What a scam...

Fan Ning shut his mouth in fright.

"Anton having you complete his final symphony may have been the best choice." Viadlin suddenly brought up the subject.

"Is... is that so? Why?"

"While I was away, I received his letter and learned that he intended to have a student who had not yet graduated continue and publish it. I thought that was far too childish—until I rushed back to Ufransel overnight and happened to hear your improvisation."

Fan Ning was somewhat surprised. "You were there this morning too?"

"So, would you like to talk about your teacher first, or the Knower first?"

"Huh?" Fan Ning was taken aback. He sat up straight. "Aren't you a piano teacher?"

What he was actually thinking at the same time was: Aren't you a chef?

"Shouldn't those two be what you most want to know about?" Viadlin's heavy voice struck deep in his heart.

Fan Ning nodded. "That's true. Let's talk about Teacher Anton first."

"Hiran once had an older sister."

"Huh?"

Fan Ning truly did not know that.

Naturally, he had only met Teacher Anton after entering Saint Leniya University. It had been less than four years, and he had indeed never heard either his teacher or Hiran mention it.

And from the way Viadlin put it, Teacher Anton's eldest daughter had been dead for quite a long time.

"Hiran's sister used to be a clerical worker here. If she were still alive, she would be two or three years older than you."

"Then was she a Knower?" Fan Ning asked.

Viadlin shook his head.

"I watched her grow up as her first piano teacher.

When she was about sixteen or seventeen, she became involved in a mysterious incident at school. Several other students who encountered it alongside her died one after another over the following days." "Fortunately, I was her piano teacher. During class the next day, I noticed something was wrong and pulled her back from the brink of death."

"The culprit behind that mysterious incident was a secret organization that worshipped an evil god. We worked with those fellows from the Special Inspection Office, destroyed every hideout we uncovered, dealt with every involved evil practitioner we could find, and eliminated the incident's effects as thoroughly as possible."

"For the sake of continued protection, and because it was a decent job, she soon joined our clerical staff. She assisted us with relatively low-risk, routine support work. Her father trusted me, so naturally he was pleased with that arrangement. Of course, she also signed a confidentiality agreement concerning the specific duties."

"What happened afterward?" Fan Ning could not help asking.

"Afterward? A few years later, she still became Lost..." Viadlin's tone sank deeper than the piano's lowest register. "She ended her own life in a manner that could not be understood... It was her father's most painful memory. He was unwilling to mention it in any form."

In a manner that could not be understood...

Like the way those two students the police officer mentioned had died?

Fan Ning felt a chill and could not help pressing on with more questions:

"Are you a Knower organization?"

"Are the Orthodox Churches we know also Knower organizations?"

"What is your relationship with the Special Inspection Office?"

"What does it mean to become Lost?"

"So, let's move on to the second topic: Knowers." Viadlin said solemnly.

Fan Ning sat ramrod straight.

Viadlin rose, opened the dark-lacquered oak cabinet against the wall, and took out a strangely designed tiered candlestick. It had no fewer than seven layers, each holding a different number of small candles, creating a mysterious staggered arrangement.

He struck a yellow phosphorus match. Once every candle had been lit, he turned off all the gas lamps.

The room became dim and mysterious.

"Our spirits yearn to be illuminated by Candle." Viadlin murmured in a low voice amid the shifting light and shadow.

He placed the candlestick on the table, clipped a small glass incense vaporizer onto the metal ring around one of the largest candles, and dripped in the red blended essential oil from a small brown bottle.

"The Pool of secret fragrance dispels the sense of discord."

A peculiar sweet scent drifted through the room. Fan Ning did not quite understand.

He mixed coarse salt with some kind of purple dye and scattered it around the outer edge of the table, forming a closed curve.

"Key is our sanctuary when we dissect Inspiration."

Finally, Viadlin took out a round blackish-purple shellac record and placed it into the glossy black cabinet gramophone in the corner, then pressed the switch.

Music sounded from the horn.

"Art beyond language symbolizes prayers that steady the mind."

"Master Karatani's large-scale church music from his later years, Requiem in A Minor?" That was the only thing Fan Ning recognized, though he understood none of what was happening.

Candlelight flickered through the room as incense spread. Against the heavy rhythm of the strings and the tolling bells, the woodwinds and French horns played a gray, melancholy prelude, after which the choir sang a somber, terrifying chant that made one tremble.

He suddenly felt his senses sharpen. His mouth was a little dry, yet something like a "membrane" or "structure" had wrapped a thin layer around his consciousness, giving him a strange sense of protection.

"Lord Viadlin, I... I want to ask, why do we have to do this to discuss this subject?" Fan Ning finally asked.

"Because much of what we are about to discuss will involve Hidden Knowledge." Viadlin's answer left him even more confused.

"So all of this is to protect our sanity."