Back to the Future 1999: Raining at the Same Time

Along with Hoffmann and Markus, the foundation's commissioner from the Vienna branch also arrived at the Secession House.

Heinrich exaggeratedly pressed the back of his right hand against his forehead, leaning back dramatically, his blond hair swaying wildly under the lights. As if reciting a monologue on stage, he proclaimed in a drawn-out, operatic aria tone:

"Oh dear, Mr. Rigoletto! Your hair has grown so much longer than before..."

He suddenly straightened up, opened his arms, and made a gesture of hugging the commissioner, but his eyes gleamed slyly:

Why did you come here? Was it also to enjoy art?

The foundation's branch office clerk frowned impatiently and made a "stop" gesture, trying to interrupt Heinrich's performance.

He lowered his voice, his tone carrying a clear warning:

"Be normal, Heinrich. And stop calling me by those opera characters!"

The commissioner took a deep breath, pulled a notebook from his pocket, quickly flipped through a few pages, and sharply scanned his surroundings.

He pointed to the burning candle on the table, his brow furrowing even more deeply:

"We received a report of a rather unusual disturbance here. Let me see, these candles... Are you performing a spirit summoning?"

He closed the notebook with a snap, his tone turning serious:

"I should remind you that the use of occult rituals requires a separate permit!"

The salon guest abruptly stood up from his chair, placed his hands on the table, leaned forward, his face flushed with anger, and retorted loudly:

"What?! This is unreasonable! We've already paid so much for the license application—"

The commissioner didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slowly raised his hand, palm down, signaling the other party to calm down. His gaze remained calm, even carrying a hint of condescending scrutiny.

"Calm down, sir. Watch your words. The Viennese government has worked closely with us and has provided you with sufficient freedom."

The commissioner took a step forward, his voice not loud, but it carried a sense of pressure:

“We can’t always be responsible for your ‘flash of inspiration’! Who do you think cleaned up those fires, those crimes of passion, and those stampedes?”

He extended his index finger and pointed it in the air, emphasizing his words:

“Séances are among the most dangerous. We’ve lost two colleagues to them, and they’re still receiving treatment in the psychiatric ward of Vienna General Hospital.”

The commissioner spread his hands, making a helpless expression, then his gaze sharpened again:

"Nowhere else is as inclusive as here—you should also give the government a certain degree of cooperation."

Heinrich waved his right hand slightly, as if shooing away a fly, a fake smile on his face:

“Spiritual possession? What spiritual possession? Nothing like that has ever happened, Mr. Rigoletto. We are just—rehearsing a stage play.”

He turned and pointed to the candles on the table and the surrounding furnishings, finally stopping in front of the burned paintings, and sighed dramatically:

"These candles, this arrangement, and of course, these paintings that have been burned!"

He opened his arms, as if to show his masterpiece to the audience:

"Yes, you could call it an art salon, a youth gathering! But we prefer to call it a vision of the future."

The commissioner rubbed his temples, a pained expression on his face. He glanced at the strange crowd around him, his tone filled with helplessness and dissatisfaction:

"...I need someone who can communicate normally to talk to me. Now, I have the right to question the legitimacy of your entire gathering—is there not a single emotionally stable, mentally sound person among you?"

The commissioner was about to turn and leave when he suddenly stopped, his tone becoming even more stern:

"If that's the case, I think I need to be direct—"

Isolde suddenly appeared, gently pushing through the crowd. She bowed slightly, performing an elegant curtsy, her voice soft and full of apology:

"I am sorry……"

She raised her head, gazing tenderly at the commissioner, her tone tinged with guilt:

"Mr. Strauss, I apologize for keeping you waiting."

Upon seeing Isolde, the commissioner's tense facial muscles instantly relaxed. He immediately straightened his collar, bowed slightly in return, and his tone became respectful and enthusiastic:

"Miss Dietersdorf!"

He extended his right hand and placed it on his chest, striking a gentlemanly pose.

"Please allow me to extend my sincere greetings, my esteemed lady. What brings you here as well?"

Isolde lowered her head slightly, clasped her hands in front of her, and explained softly:

“Oh… I’m so sorry to have bothered you. In fact, besides my late brother’s exhibition, we are also having a small rehearsal for the upcoming opera performance.”

She looked up, her eyes pleading.

"We...we were so excited that we disturbed you! This is too much of a fuss..."

The commissioner waved his hand, a kind smile appearing on his face:

"Look at you, nothing of the sort. Your politeness makes us seem so distant. Mr. Karl mentioned you at lunch this morning—a very talented opera singer!"

Isolde smiled gratefully and gently clasped her hands together:

“Ah, how grateful I am to Mr. Karl! Since my mother’s passing, the Ditasdorf family has received much help from him.”

The commissioner's smile widened, and he clapped his hands:

"So, it was all just a little misunderstanding!"

He abruptly changed the subject, his tone becoming businesslike, but his eyes held a hint of ingratiation:

"But madam, please forgive us, we still need to go through some procedures."

He cleared his throat, leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, and made a mysterious gesture:

"Ahem, may I do a little 'investigation'?"

The man leaned slightly closer to Isolde, his voice lower and more suggestive:

“A very simple ‘survey’—you understand…just take a simple walk around this building!”

Isolde gracefully extended a hand in a "please" gesture, and said with a smile:

"It's reassuring to have such a responsible gentleman as you at the foundation. Please make yourself at home, Mr. Strauss."

At the other end of the temple, investigators from headquarters were diligently performing their duties.

Hoffman stood at the front of the line, tilting her head slightly and giving her imperceptibly shake the well-tailored dark coat.

In an instant, countless thin, transparent threads, as fine as spider silk, slipped from the folds of her clothes, accompanied by countless spore-like substances invisible to the naked eye, silently dissipating into the air.

"Wow, 'spider tail' and 'pop spores'..."

The young investigator lowered his voice, his eyes flashing with undisguised amazement.

However, a slender hand suddenly reached out from the side and gently beckoned.

That's Chen Xi.

He easily attracted a few strands of the hidden rays and spores that Hoffman had just released, as if he were teasing a butterfly.

He placed those mystical creations, which were considered cutting-edge in this era, between his two fingers and twirled them casually, as if they were just a few ordinary threads.

"Hmm, hmm, I see."

Chenxi's voice carried a hint of casual admiration.

The instant the two fingers touched, a dazzling golden light flashed suddenly, then quickly subsided. The light was as precise as a scalpel, instantly analyzing, reconstructing, and even... "seizing" the two complex sensory devices to some extent.

"Chen Xi?"

Hoffman's voice turned cold, tinged with a hint of offended anger.

"Mr. Chen Xi!"

The young investigator let out a surprised exclamation.

Hoffman took a deep breath. Instead of raising her voice in reprimand, she spoke in an almost icy, rational tone:

"You should know the purpose of this mission. Discipline is not a constraint, but the minimum threshold for the continuation of civilization."

She paused, her gaze sweeping behind Chen Xi, her tone becoming even more serious:

"You should know that this is not an era where you can act recklessly on your own. Unexpected variables are not part of our pre-established rules."

Hoffman was referring to the unusual entity that had always been by Marcus's side—the Goren Knight, who had now transformed into a small chess piece and was quietly residing in Marcus's pocket.

"Okay, okay, I understand."

Chenxi raised his hands in a standard surrender gesture, his face bearing his usual relaxed smile.

"Nothing bad happened, and isn't it good to have such a wonderful creation protecting you?"

He shrugged, his tone as casual as if he were discussing what to have for dinner.

“You and Marcus both seem powerless, and this era will soon be reversed by the torrential rain anyway. We won’t even have to bear any responsibility for it.”

Chenxi's tone was extremely normal, as if this were just common sense.

However, when the words "retrospection" and "no responsibility" reached the ears of the other two, the air froze instantly.

Especially Marcus, who had only just returned to her own time. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to her past so soon.

"Well, that's not surprising. After all, you're a Sichen appointed by the Foundation, so it's not unusual for you to know such news."

Hoffman was the first to come to her senses. Her voice remained steady, but a slight, almost imperceptible tremor could be detected if one listened carefully.

"But according to the foundation's calculations, the torrential rains of this era shouldn't have arrived so early. Could it be..."

Hoffman stared intently at Chenxi, partly to verify the authenticity of the information, and partly to try and get some good news, even if it was just a small thing, from the student beside him who seemed to be on the verge of collapse.

"Just as you suspected, this is another reshaping, a process of history that they have deliberately accelerated, and it will happen very soon..."

As the camera gradually zoomed out, Chenxi's words, carried by the wind, became increasingly blurred. But for those who listened attentively, even the faintest words could be heard clearly amidst the noise.

Gradually, Chenxi felt a chilling sensation different from that of a ghost, as well as an extremely aggressive gaze from behind.

He followed his senses and looked over, but only saw Isolde. She stood quietly in the shadows, her gray eyes filled with nothing but a heart-wrenching tenderness and reluctance.

She selectively ignored almost all the information, but kept one piece of information firmly in her mind.

"Chenxi... Chenxi..."

As she murmured the name, Isolde's lips curved into a blissful smile, a smile both poignant and content.

"So that's the doctor's name."