After drafting the opening of the document, Barton was about to add details when he discovered that Furnar hadn't submitted any documents.
"Does he really think he can get funding with just a letter, based on his relationship with the Foundation?" Barton muttered to himself, looking around the table with a puzzled expression.
In his memory, the Archaeologist Furnar was not such an arrogant person. Apart from being a bit impatient, he was a typical Loen gentleman in every other respect.
--Under normal circumstances, to apply for assistance from the " Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation ", in addition to the project description, you must also provide on-site photos, copies of ancient books, and other materials. Otherwise, the Foundation will not be able to review the application or make a judgment, let alone spend a lot of money to send a team to the project site for investigation.
Or perhaps it was simply that Furnar was too careless and forgot to send the documents along with the letter? Of course, given Furnar's relationship with the Foundation, it's entirely possible that after seeing the letter, they would send one or two people to contact and verify it... Hmm, as a friend, I still have to do something for him... Barton shook his head, without much thought, stood up, and walked to the bookshelf.
He then extended his right palm and ran his fingers along the spines of the books to select the reference materials he needed.
Finally, he pulled out several books and journals, synthesized the various viewpoints mentioned above, and provided a detailed description of the historical origins of the mountains within the jurisdiction of West Vilas County in the documents he prepared to submit:
"In the field of history, there is a widely accepted view:"
"For an unknown period of time, whether short or long, the Solomon Empire and the Tudor Dynasty coexisted on the Northern Continent, and their dividing line was likely the present-day Hornacis Mountain Range and the Feynapotter Plateau."
"The extension of the Hornacis Mountain Range into West Vilas County is quite likely to be a key point of contention between the two sides..."
Barton did not endorse Furnar, but indirectly suggested, by providing references, that Quaternary remains might indeed exist in the mountains of West Vilas County.
In this way, if it is ultimately proven that Furnar was lying, no one will hold him accountable, because those arguments were made by famous historians, and Barton only made certain excerpts, selectively excerpting them.
At the end of the document, he listed his references:
"... A Study of Private Historical Sources in West Vilas County, by Azik Eggers, Lecturer in the Department of History at Hoy University..."
After completing the document, Barton read it through from beginning to end, making some changes to the wording and sentences.
Then, he took the draft to the clerk's room next door and asked them to use a mechanical typewriter to produce the official text.
--The Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation has always employed a large number of women, from entry-level clerks to senior vice chairpersons, at least half of whom are women.
Barton actually had some reservations about this situation, but he couldn't object, nor did he dare to, so he could only accept it.
Of course, he also had to admit that when he had to wait, watching those young female clerks busy themselves was not a bad thing.
"At least the colors are richer here..." Barton muttered silently as he listened to the rattling sound.
After preparing the documents, signing and submitting them, he continued his work methodically as usual.
This includes, but is not limited to, initial project review, providing expert opinions and collecting data, and adding supporting arguments to certain papers submitted by the Foundation.
The day passed quickly, Barton left the company at six o'clock, taking a public carriage and spending more than an hour to get home.
This is the norm in major cities of Loen, which is why afternoon tea is so popular. After lunch from 12 pm to 1 pm, most people wouldn't get home until 7:30 pm to 8 pm. Without afternoon tea to fill that long time, most people would be extremely hungry.
Of course, this only applies to the middle class and above. Many poor people may only eat two meals a day. Moreover, if they have the means, both husband and wife must work. After returning home at seven or eight o'clock, they still have to busy themselves preparing dinner instead of enjoying it themselves.
" Furnar came to visit you this afternoon," Barton's wife said casually, taking his coat and hat as he took them off.
" Furnar?" Barton was momentarily stunned.
The Archaeologist who discovered Quaternary ruins in West Vilas County has returned to East Chester County.
As soon as he finished speaking, Barton frowned and muttered to himself:
"He really forgot to send the documents, so he came back in person?"
"No, there's no need to go through all that trouble. The Kingdom Post Office is quite reliable."
"Furthermore, he should know that on weekdays, I'm definitely at the Foundation, and, well, I might also be sent to some sites for audits..."
Thinking of this, Barton asked:
Where is he?
"He only waited in your study for fifteen minutes before leaving," Barton's wife said truthfully.
Barton pressed on:
Did he say which hotel he was staying at? When will he come again?
The Archaeologist, Furnar, was from East Chester County but not a resident of the capital Stoën, and had no residence there.
"He didn't say, but he seemed to be in a hurry," Barton's wife paused, then added, "Very anxious."
Barton touched his receding hairline and nodded slightly.
"I'll go to the study first."
His study is located on the second floor, furnished with several bookshelves and some porcelain pieces—he has a somewhat obsessive love for porcelain and actively collects unique items.
After searching, Barton found no notes or letters left by Furnar.
He quickly decided to put the matter out of his mind.
This has always been his principle—to avoid worrying about work when he gets home.
After dinner, and spending a wonderful time with his wife and children, Barton washed up, went to bed, and fell asleep first.
In the dead of night, he suddenly woke up and opened his eyes.
Since his dangerous experience during an archaeological expedition ten years ago, Barton has developed some extraordinary Spirit Intuition, always able to detect movements that others cannot. For example, while others might only realize a visitor is looking for them when they arrive at the door, Barton can sense whether a visitor is related to him as soon as they appear in the corridor.
Someone has infiltrated... Barton sat bolt upright, his eyes wide.
He glanced at his sleeping wife beside him, but didn't wake her. He quietly rolled out of bed and took the double-barreled shotgun hanging on the wall.
After gripping the gun, he gently Door Opening and looked down into the hallway.
The place was shrouded in the deep darkness of night, with a touch of crimson illuminating the general outlines of things.
Without hesitation, Barton entered the corridor and began to survey the area.
However, he did not spot the thief who had broken in.
"Am I wrong?" Barton turned around, not entirely confident.
There were no signs that any of the rooms on the second floor had been opened.
After thinking for a moment, Barton went to the study door, grasped the handle, and gently turned it.
The door opened silently, and everything inside was shrouded in darkness, like various kinds of Monster.
He drew back the curtains and, in the Moonlight, carefully examined the Barton, confirming that the furnishings were exactly as he remembered them.
"Am I being too sensitive... is it a lingering effect of yesterday's nightmare?" Barton sighed and quickly left the study.
Behind him, the drawn curtains swayed gently, as if a breeze was blowing.
The next day, Barton continued his somewhat repetitive life:
Kissing wife and children, riding in a horse-drawn carriage, reading the newspaper, brewing black tea, letters...
"Huh, another letter from Furnar." Barton felt a sense of relief and opened the letter.
However, there was nothing in the letter; it seemed the sender had forgotten to put the letter in the envelope.
"Has Furnar developed amnesia lately?" Barton glanced at the envelope in his hand and suddenly noticed that the pattern on it was a bit peculiar.
This is a commemorative envelope.
As far as Barton knows, many upscale hotels in Backlund and City of Stoen provide guests with special envelopes and stationery as a kind of souvenir.
"Which hotel is this?" Barton brought the envelope to his nose, preparing to smell the fragrance on it, which was also unique and recognizable.
The next second, he smelled a faint scent of blood.