Secret: The years I served as a foreign aid for the Aurora Club

Chapter 122 This chapter is Frank

323
"He initially tried to cross-breed the adults with fruit trees, but as expected, they all died and became nutrients for the fruit trees."

"He learned from his mistakes and changed his experimental method. He used cuttings and grafting to cross young broiler chickens with apple seedlings, and once again failed gloriously."

"Finally, he put the eggs... Well, anyway, at least the apples are growing better and better."

After reading the summary on the last page and the self-encouragement declaration of "I will continue to work hard", Edward sighed heavily, put the pages of experimental records aside, covered his eyes with his hands, and felt that his common sense was severely beaten: "What is this doing?"

"What results can be obtained from such an experiment that does not take into account biological characteristics? Does he really want to benefit mankind?"

"A farmer from the Church of Mother Earth? The Church of Mother Earth didn't teach him the basics of biology and botany?"

"I know that extraordinary abilities have created a new biological system, but this is really too..."

No one answered, and after a moment, a response came to Edward's mind: "But he meets our criteria."

"That's what I was thinking."

The Abyss Angel rubbed his face and sighed: "He is studious and enterprising, has strong execution ability, and has the potential to change the world... maybe? Both benign and malignant changes are possible, and the possibility of destroying the world is certainly possible, just like that child. He does meet our standards, and even if he is not in our direction, we can guide him appropriately."

"I really can't stand this crude experiment. After reading this experiment report, I would rather go to the abyss and fight with Fabiti."

Decayed King: "It is indeed time to consider it."

Edward became a little more serious after hearing this and asked, "'Hell' is only in its infancy. Although we can eat Him directly, we still have to pretend to be there. We have to prop up the frame of Hell anyway so that our deification ceremony can be successfully completed. However, isn't the idea of ​​'rushing down into the abyss to eat the remaining uniqueness and sequence one of Fabti and then perform a ceremony to rush straight to the true God' a little too bold? If I can really succeed, even gods with eyes will be able to find the problem."

"..."

"Yes, as long as I become a true god, I will succeed. Maybe the Seven Gods will be more certain that I was raised by the Mother Tree of Desire."

"Aren't we going to war? This is the best opportunity."

"Well." The Decayed King said calmly, "It's time for the demon family to enter. Hell needs people who cut off their hands and feet to atone for their sins, and it also needs demons who are equally evil. Of course, doing evil is what demons should do, so they will only be jailers after death. This is the pardon I give them."

"That's great. After the sacrifice, we can torture other demon-like humans. I'm sure they will be very happy." Edward nodded in agreement. "Then let's arrange it after the man-made disaster. As long as the judgment of the Death Star is made, it will be much easier for us to do anything else."

"Once we have completely controlled this part of the consciousness of the true Creator, we can go to the God-forsaken Land to look for clues to the source material."

324
Mrs. Starling, who was in the living room asking the servants to carefully pack her precious dress, looked up in confusion and asked the maid Julian, "Is there a strange old gentleman knocking on our door?"

The maid nodded: "Yes, ma'am."

"He was an older gentleman, neatly dressed, and looked like a man of status."

"Who is he looking for?"

"He said he was looking for the owner of this house."

"Could it be Luke's visitor? He didn't tell me, and if that's the case, he should know that it's working hours now..." The beautiful Mrs. Starling said to herself in confusion, and then ordered the maid, "I'll go open the door, and tell the male servants to be alert."

"Okay, ma'am."

Mrs. Starling lifted her skirt, asked the maids to bring a makeup mirror, and roughly touched up her makeup. Then she put on a thick, ironed cloak, and walked down the stairs slowly with the help of the maids to the entrance. She wanted to look out through the peephole first, but then she felt that it was not dignified to do so in front of the servants, so she took a deep breath, behaved dignifiedly, showed a decent and elegant smile, and signaled the maid to open the door.

Julian turned the doorknob, implicitly shielding Mrs. Starling behind him.

The visitor outside the door was a middle-aged gentleman who was dressed meticulously. His shirt was snow-white and straight, his thick gray-blue vest perfectly covered his stomach, and his long tuxedo had clear lines and no flaws.

The gentleman was wearing a pair of shiny leather shoes, and there was no sign of having walked through rain and mud.

He was wearing a pair of white knitted gloves, with a few strands of silver hair on his temples, deep wrinkles on his face, and his light brown eyes were so serious that they did not contain a trace of smile.

I don’t know him… But the old man has an inexplicably majestic and reassuring aura. Mrs. Starling relaxed her guard a little and asked politely:

"who are you looking for?"

The middle-aged gentleman took off his hat, put it on his chest, and saluted in the most standard manner:
"I'm here to visit the owner of the house at 15 Minsk Street."

"I am the owner of that house. What can I do for you?" Starlin was even more confused.

Starling looked at the serious old man in front of him. Judging from his temperament and the fabrics of the clothes he wore, he was at least a noble, but he said he was just a butler. Although he was a little vain and proud, Starling still had a clearer self-awareness. The family that could afford such a butler should not be someone he knew.

But at this time, she had noticed a carriage parked far away across the cement road. The outer shell was thick and solid black, and there were curtains on the inside of the windows. It was obvious that it was not an ordinary item, and it exuded luxury in its low-key style.

Looking more closely, I saw a coat of arms in a prominent position in the carriage.

The main body of the emblem is a sword pointing vertically downward, with a red crown on the hilt of the sword.

This is the "Sword of Judgment"... the "Sword of Judgment" representing the Augustus royal family of the kingdom! Oh my God, I heard Luke mention it! Starlin's heart trembled, and she didn't dare to think about it.

The old housekeeper noticed Stalin's gaze and said generously, "Madam, please don't tell anyone about this."

"I, I will." Starling replied quickly.

"So you are the owner of No. 15 Minsk Street. Has the tenant left?"

He was looking for Mr. Moriarty? Starling was shocked. As a landlord, she shouldn't reveal the tenant's information, but this was in front of the royal family, so she hesitated for a second before answering, "Yes, he came to say goodbye early today."

The old butler narrowed his eyes, somewhat unsure of the situation, and asked, "Did the gentleman mention his itinerary?"

"Ah, this..." Stelin hesitated again, and then she felt that the old butler's figure became more and more majestic and solemn, making people dare not look directly at him, as if he was a teacher or a judge. She naturally wanted to answer truthfully, "He, he said he wanted to go back to Jianhai County to celebrate the New Year..."

After hearing this, the old butler's expression did not change, and he did not comment. Then, he politely gave a standard salute to Starling again (Starling quickly lifted her skirt to return the salute) and said, "Thank you for your answer, ma'am."

"I know you are worried. Please rest assured. I am only inviting Detective Sherlock Moriarty on behalf of my master. I have no intention of harming him."

"Please don't tell anyone about what happened today."

Starlin was shocked and nodded immediately, watching the old butler get into the carriage. The driver stood straight and waved the whip, and the carriage, a symbol of royal majesty, gradually disappeared into the street.

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that she was actually talking to a butler of the royal family. Her steps back to her room were a little erratic. Mr. Sherlock Moriarty was such a big shot? Did the royal family come to invite him personally? He was not a simple detective? Yes, he had such outstanding skills, his identity must be extraordinary... Starling was a little excited and thought about it randomly in her mind, but then she felt a little disappointed because she couldn't tell these events to anyone, not even Luke.

………………

In the end, Klein successfully rented a house at a weekly rent of 1 pound 4 soli, saving 1 soli. The rental period was tentatively set for two months. He spent the rent refund he had just received from Mrs. Starling before it was even warm. Klein used the existing water and electricity bills as proof of identity, and did not forget to use a little trick to change his name. Sherlock Moriarty was now dead or missing, and Klein did not dare to go back to No. 15 Minsk Street to take a look. The mailbox remained the same, full.

Oh, and the monthly subscription fee for newspapers and milk is 4 soli! There are still days left in the month! It's totally wasted!

These small amounts of money made Klein feel heartbroken for a few minutes. After signing the contract, he took the key and opened the door of his new residence.

Frankly speaking, the rent has its own value. From the balcony, you can overlook the busiest financial and commercial street in Hillston District. The area of ​​the house is much smaller than the one Mrs. Summer rented to herself, but the furniture is of better quality. Moreover, this is originally provided for businessmen or middle-class apartments with an annual salary of more than 300 pounds, so the price is not high.

Klein comforted himself for a while, trying not to think about the 10 pounds that had left him. He took out his clothes and brand new daily necessities from his suitcase, put them away one by one, then took out the envelopes and stationery he had just bought and began to write a letter.

The purchase of materials cost nearly 2,700 pounds, and Klein only had about 1,500 pounds left in his savings, which was already a dangerous figure for a wild Beyonder seeking promotion.

Sequence 6 is the middle sequence, and the materials needed for the middle sequence are often double the price, and are even more scarce. Therefore, he urgently needs to make some money, so he thought of the conversation he had with Miss Sharon before his death: Maric's friend discovered a mausoleum of a Fourth Epoch noble, which is very dangerous and should have a lot of extraordinary materials and items, and maybe there will be the "human skin shadow" he needs.

Since it was inconvenient to go out now, Klein wrote a letter to Ikanser Bernard, a deacon he was familiar with in the Steam Church. He also implicitly stated in the letter that he had recently moved and wanted to hide for a while, and it would be best if he did not come to disturb him except for trading.

After finishing the letter, all urgent matters were finally done. Klein glanced at the wall clock. It was already past one in the afternoon.

So he closed his eyes and began to meditate and rest. An hour later, Klein opened his eyes and divined that "there is no danger". After confirming that it was safe, he took four steps backwards and headed towards the gray fog.

He had to die sooner or later. Klein had figured it out. As long as he had to deal with Ince Zangwill, the power of the gray fog was indispensable. No matter how dangerous it was, he had to use all his strength.

As for dealing with Edward Vaughn, he was afraid that he could not do anything, but at least he had to reveal the other party's information to the church.

So, on the way to rent a house, he had already put an anonymous letter of complaint into the mailbox of the Church of Night.

324
On the Future, Frank wiped his hands and lay down on the table in his simple laboratory, ready to take a nap.

The experiment of crossbreeding broiler chickens and apples could not be called a success, it could only be called a complete failure. It was exactly the same as the crossbreeding of wheat and dairy cows, the only difference was that after crossbreeding dairy cows and wheat, he was directly thrown out of the Church of Mother Earth, and after crossbreeding apples and broiler chickens was discovered, his failed experiments were all burned under the supervision of the captain, and a few chickens that had not yet been used in the experiment were roasted by colleagues who were gloating over the misfortune.

In the firelight, the captain's expression was cold with a hint of fear, and he asked Frank for the umpteenth time to report to her before conducting any experiments.

Alas! Fortunately, I made a new friend. When I went ashore last time, I had compiled a copy of the experimental records and experience and mailed it to the Ernst Foundation Orphanage in Bayam.

You should have received it by now, right? The postage is too expensive. It only takes 1 soli to send it across an island.

The sun was shining brightly in the afternoon and the room was still quite warm.

Surrounded by the most familiar smell of earth, Frank Lee comfortably made a nest with his arms and began to doze off.

He fell asleep quickly.

But after an unknown amount of time, he suddenly woke up and realized that he was dreaming, but he was still asleep. He was still in a daze and only felt that he seemed to have come to a certain place.

Thinking ability and logic in dreams will deteriorate. Frank stood there blankly, looking at the ground, until a black shadow appeared on the ground in front of him.

He wanted to look up, but he couldn't. He tried to roll his eyes up, but he could see nothing.

The shadow asked him, "Who gave you the gem?"

Frank was now half asleep and half awake, and naturally followed the other party's commanding words. He immediately felt that the "certain existence" in front of him, whom he could not see or hear clearly, was an "acquaintance" of his whose name he could not remember.

"Emeralds... I... Ernst... can't bear to spend them..." Then he said unguardedly, "Gift..."

The shadow was not surprised: "He really wants to find a classmate for himself."

He? Frank was slightly puzzled, and then he heard the shadow ask: "Did you write this?"

A blurry white paper was handed to him. There was nothing on it, but Frank immediately thought it was the experimental report he had sent out and nodded slowly.

"What is written?"

The shadow said coldly: "This is bullshit. Redo it as soon as possible."

Frank was so shocked that he almost jumped up on the spot. He woke up, but not completely, and struggled to ask, "Why...why?"

The shadow sighed: "Is the gene of your experimental product stable?"

"Gene?"

"Have you done a safety check?"

"Safety check?"

"I won't ask about the unsuccessful apple chicken, but can your red wine fish reproduce normally? What effect has it had on the genes of the original fish species? Are your experimental results repeatable? Have you put it into the test? What is the market response? Does it have natural enemies? How long is its survival cycle? Is its gene stable? Will it mutate? Will it cause species invasion once it is put into the test?"

Frank was stunned. He was completely confused by the long series of questions. He stammered guiltily, "Uh, nothing."

“What is… an invasive species?”

Then he could hear a hint of helplessness and disappointment in the emotionless tone of the black shadow: "You dare to experiment and breed without doing anything? You really deserve to be thrown out of the church."

"I thought you had some basic safety knowledge."

Frank was immediately ashamed and began to look for a shovel, ready to return to the earth, but there was nothing in this empty world. In addition, he was still sleeping, so he couldn't move his legs and took very small steps. After seeing him move a few centimeters, the shadow asked again:
“How do you give red wine the ability to carry oxygen?”

It is difficult for people to think about more than one thing in a dream. Frank quickly put aside the idea of ​​digging a hole to bury himself and began to recall the experiment he had done not long ago and had achieved some success.

"I tried... to replace the fish's blood directly... but it didn't work... for some reason... I don't know..."

"... fusion... and then... breeding from the fry..."

After hearing these two sentences, the black shadow understood: "Just as I thought. That is not red wine, but blood that tastes like red wine."

"Because the color, taste and some ingredients are similar, it is mistaken for wine. If you do an analysis, you will know."

"Your fish probably won't live long. The ability of its blood to carry oxygen has been greatly weakened. Either you clone it directly as an adult, or it dies as a fry, and it will be difficult for it to grow up normally."

After saying this, the shadow stopped talking and stood there quietly. Frank was confused for a while, then asked in a daze:

"Why...failed?"

"Because your school doesn't teach the cell theory."

The shadow replied bluntly: "Leave. Whether you are qualified to gain knowledge from me depends on your performance and ability."

Before Frank could comprehend the meaning of this sentence, he suddenly felt the ground beneath his feet disappear, and he fell down. The strong sense of weightlessness made him wave his hands and kick his legs in panic, trying to grab something.

Bang! He kicked his lab table, and the reaction force kicked him off the chair. Frank fell headfirst into the dirt, half of his face was completely buried. The fear in the dream had not yet disappeared. After flopping in the dirt for a few times, he realized that he had returned to the real world. He touched his face in surprise:

"Hey, I didn't fall to death?"

He shook his head, brushed off the dirt in his collar, and recalled the vague dream in doubt. The details of the dream were very vague, but the few questions "Can your experimental results be repeated?" remained very clear in his mind. Frank wondered what great being he had encountered by chance, but he hesitated and felt that it was not right for a great being to read his experimental report and give him a small lesson.

Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind. He turned to look at the laboratory table, and saw the experimental records he had sent to his new friend last week lying there neatly.

Frank suddenly felt his whole body getting hot and a chill ran through his head. He pounced on it like a hungry tiger and saw at a glance that the record with muddy cover was undoubtedly the original one he had sent.

He chanted a few words in his heart, wishing the Mother Goddess a blessing, and without even daring to breathe, he pinched a corner with his fingers and carefully flipped through the pages.

——As before, there were no extra traces of corrections.

He turned a few more pages, but still found nothing.

However, when he turned to the end, he found that there was an extra red round seal there, on which were the words that the graduates of the old era were most afraid to see after submitting their papers:
"Unqualified, rejected and rewritten."

This isn't a dream! Frank was immediately frightened and broke into a sweat.

TBC
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The above is the author’s complaint about revising his graduation thesis.

Why hasn’t the Tarot Club arrived yet… It’s clearly in the next chapter, but why is there so much to write? It never arrives tomorrow and tomorrow, Tarot Club Requiem?

(End of this chapter)