The Old Days, Dice, and the Investigator's Handbook
Chapter 102

Meditation, Court Wizards, and a Dream

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"That sounds plausible," Carlo praised Isaac's speculation. "However, there's still a gap between speculation and confirmation—verification is needed."

How do I verify this?

"How about we pick a lucky passerby, put the ring on their finger, and see what happens?"

"Hey, hey..."

"Just kidding, leave it for now." Carlo shrugged, putting the ring back in his pocket. "Alright, I need to get back to grading papers."

Isaac glanced at the stack of letters on the table. "Is there any noteworthy information in those assignments?"

Carlo pulled out a letter. "Most of it is miscellaneous news, such as whose cat is lost, which newspaper is late in publishing its paper, whose neighbors have changed, which factory is hiring... I can only write it down for now, it might come in handy later."

"If a child's homework accurately reflects any important information, then I'll suspect that someone is using my intelligence network to convey a message."

Isaac thought about it and realized that made sense. When gathering intelligence in this way, important information is often hidden in a lot of useless information. It requires filtering, comparison, and association to make it emerge, rather than expecting a child to directly hand over the key clues.

"Should I help look at some of it too? Two people screening is always faster than one." Isaac wondered if he, as an assistant, should have some daily tasks.

Are you free right now?

"Well?"

Have you developed Spirit Vision? Have you practiced meditation?

"Well..."

"Heh, go play by yourself."

Isaac had no choice but to return to his room, sit on the bed, and try to begin meditating.

He closed his eyes, letting his breathing return to a natural rhythm, and tried to focus his attention on the space between his eyebrows, but his attention was quickly drawn away by something else.

The mystery of the ring, the Joint Investigation Bureau meeting, Li Jiehao's time travel, the adoptive father's letter... these thoughts surface one by one, and every thread remains unresolved.

He tried to push them down, but like corks on water, pressing one only made another pop out.

Isaac opened his eyes, sighed, and took out the jar of cooling balm that Moran had given him.

She said not to rely on props, but she didn't say they couldn't be used at all; at least they could be used to assist practice during the beginner stage.

Isaac lifted the lid of the tin box, and the cool scent of mint and camphor wafted out. He dabbed a little with his fingertip and applied it to his forehead, the coolness spreading through him.

He closed his eyes again, focusing his attention on the coolness between his eyebrows.

This time, his thoughts were calmer than before. A cool sensation spread outwards from between his brows, like ripples, gradually covering his entire forehead, like an anchor point fixing his consciousness.

Even so, his thoughts did not completely calm down. They shifted from the messy daily trifles to another issue, from Tiger Balm to Moran, and then to a word.

Court wizard.

The word he blurted out yesterday still seems rather inexplicable to me now.

When Carlo asked Moran about his psychic behavior, the word popped into his head, as if it had just jumped out of some corner of his memory, but he couldn't remember why.

He had read some descriptions of the courts of ancient empires, mentioning the activities of court sorcerers around the emperor, some skilled in astrology, others in alchemy.

In the history books of the Palmer Blackthorn Church, these are described as evidence of the emperor's obsession with witchcraft, but Edward, the foster father, had a completely different view of court wizards in his private teachings to Isaac.

At the time, he was reading the Imperial History compiled by the Blackthorn Church, which portrayed the court wizards as a group of charlatans who bewitched the emperor and deceived him with false miracles. He told Edward this story, and the old man remained silent for a while.

"Some of those court wizards were indeed frauds, but some were genuine scholars. They observed the stars and were trying to find the laws governing the movement of celestial bodies. They concocted potions and experimented with the transformation of matter."

"It's just that the concept of 'science' didn't exist in their time. They needed a framework to understand phenomena beyond everyday experience, and could only use mystical language to convey their discoveries. Astrology is the embryo of astronomy, and alchemy is the precursor to chemistry. These are traces left by the evolution of humankind's way of understanding the world."

"The problem with court wizards is that they confine themselves to esoteric systems, packaging knowledge with obscure terminology and complex rituals. This practice protects their status, but it also hinders the dissemination and accumulation of knowledge."

At the time, Isaac only felt that Edward's attitude towards those wizards was much more tolerant than that of the church. Now, looking back, he realized that Edward's perspective on those historical figures was indeed different from that of the local scholars.

Perhaps he saw something familiar in those wizards, knowing where the direction they were exploring would ultimately lead, yet they were also constrained by the limitations of their time, thus enabling him to evaluate their work from a different perspective.

Isaac thought to himself that if Edward were still alive, he would probably have many more questions to ask him now: about the various entanglements behind the city of Vista, about the gods, about the time travelers, and... about Edward himself.

As his thoughts drifted, Isaac's consciousness gradually dissipated, entering a hazy, chaotic state.

"... Did you see him?"

"... who?"

"That jester who plays with witchcraft."

"You mean... a court sorcerer?"

"Yes. Remember what he looks like, his behavior, what he does every day."

"Then, find the right time... and kill him."

"Why?"

"That's not a question you should be asking."

"... yes."

Hookah, incantations, servants...

Dagger, blood, screams...

commend...

Isaac's head, which had been lowered, suddenly snapped back up.

Was he... asleep?

Isaac rubbed his face, trying to clear his head.

It was already dark outside the window, and the room lights were off, with only the streetlights providing illumination.

I originally intended to practice meditation, but ended up catching up on sleep... Isaac twitched his lips, thinking that striking a balance between deep meditation and a long nap was quite difficult.

And I think I had a strange dream, but I can't remember the details, only a vague sense of déjà vu.

Isaac tried to grasp the outline of the dream. He vaguely remembered a voice speaking in the dream, a voice that seemed familiar, though he couldn't recall exactly what it sounded like. And... a court wizard, a dagger, blood.

But those images were like a wisp of smoke swirling in front of him; he reached out to grasp them, but they dissipated before him. He tried to recall what the voice had said, but only a blank remained.

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