musicians of old

Chapter 827 Bracelet?

"Phantom...Phantom, you too have visited some...the hidden corners of deep dreams?" Vincent lowered his eyelids, his brows trembling as he weakly replied, "Ha, that's dangerous, young man. The burden it places on the mind and heart is irreversible. I've already paid a considerable price."

“No, I learned about this word from what just happened, from the secret title page of a strange, ancient collection of poems.” Fan Ning said, taking out the book, “The Boy’s Magic Horn,” which he had gotten from Nancy.

"Is it?"

"It seems that the dream world beneath the surface may not be nothingness, but rather has many connections with reality."

Vincent's chest was still heaving.

"In the other dimension I dreamt of, there was a small art gallery that also belonged to me personally. Its location was deliberately chosen with profound meaning, and deep underground in the storage room, one or more 'phantom objects' were buried."

"The perception of time in deep dreams is always very long, once a year, then another year. For decades, I have been chasing the dangerous and fascinating secrets behind the 'illusions,' where there is some quality that I can use. My body has withered along with that history, but perhaps somewhere else, I have done what I could."

Vincent's tone slowed, and he sounded incredibly tired.

He really should rest immediately, so that at least his weakened heart won't collapse.

“I would like to ask you to identify it, Mr. Painter.” Fanning frowned in confusion as he handed over the catalog of the second half of the auction that Squiaben had given him.

“An illusion. A distortion, a misinterpretation.” Vincent took the list, his lips moving slightly as he spoke, his chest rising and falling gently. “The original object has long since lost its history, impossible to verify. The imaginations of later generations have reshaped it in a flawed way, leading those who come after to mistakenly believe it to be the true origin.”

"Turengalia Turengalia. Hehehe."

Amid Vincent's extremely weary speech, there was a recurring sound that Fanning could barely make out.

"Those sinister and anomalous characteristics, conceptualized, non-physical origins, the aesthetic experience of existential paradox, and a mixed, ambiguous, dreamlike moment of intuition."

Vincent lay on the recliner, struggling to underline things in the catalog with a pen, then, exhausted again, closed his eyes, and could only breathe faintly.

"one two three"

Fanning, Nancy, and McAdam immediately surrounded them.

Of the 22 items listed in the catalog that were to be auctioned in the second half of the session, Vincent underlined 7 of them!
That's exactly 7 items!
Could it be that the list of collectibles that Squiaben appraiser supposedly gave to Fanning for "professional advice" just happened to include all seven possible "phantom objects"?

Fanning began to recall.

He had handled most of the items in this collection and had some recollection of them.

"An Egyptian cat goddess statue? A Thor ruby ​​lyre bow?" Fanning had just read out two names Vincent had marked and was rolling his eyes in recollection—

"Bang bang bang!!"

Suddenly, the outermost cast iron door was pounded with a rapid and dull sound!

"Oh no, time is almost up." Miss McAdam's expression changed, and the others also turned to look at the clock on the wall.

“It’s a quarter to ten o’clock, they’re probably here to rush me,” Nancy said anxiously, frowning. “The hammer-wielder needs to prepare in advance to go on stage. And just like that, the guards might become even more suspicious, wondering if we’re really here to save people and provide justice.”

“I expected this to happen.” Fan Ning narrowed his eyes and slowly walked towards the slightly trembling cast-iron gate. “Once we come back in a second time, things will probably start to count down.”

The guards were exhausted from the search because they had many suspects, the clues were not very conclusive, and their attention was too scattered. But they were not fools.

Previously, Fanning had brought the female reporter in as an emergency, temporarily storing the "dirt file" to avoid the search in the dressing hallway. However, this also meant the file would have to be retrieved, and a second search would be inevitable. Fortunately, the sudden illness of the famous painter Vincent provided another cover. But now...
Faced with the urgent knocking and urging, Fan Ning went over and then went back.

"Shua-"

He gestured to his female assistant, Nicole, to take the lead in negotiating, and she opened a movable conversation window on the side wall.

"How is Mr. Vincent? Also, Miss Nancy, please keep track of the time!"

The person outside the window wasn't a guard, but rather the rather kind-looking old manager from the protocol department, surrounded by several anxious-looking assistants.

But to make a "predictable" inference, there are probably many sinister eyes watching from places unseen by the window!
Nicole, the female assistant in charge of the negotiations, turned her head and gave Fanning, who was standing at the door of the inner room, an inquiring look. After seeing his gesture, she immediately relayed the message to the people outside:

"You'll see Mr. Vincent in five minutes, I assure you, things are going well. So, we'll need to borrow a little more of Miss Nancy's time."

Perhaps it's an acceptable extension period, or an understandable emergency response requirement.

The knocking stopped for a moment, and the window panes closed again.

"No, I have to get out of here first." Nancy's face was worried. "I can only play it by ear after I get on stage, or, when it's time to settle the accounts, I'll just smash those seven items on the list!"

“Let’s prepare for both possibilities,” Miss McAdam nodded. “If we confirm there are any changes, we’ll give some hints in a prominent place offstage. At the very least, we can revert to our original exposure plan without the ‘phantom object’.”

"Wait—" Fan Ning suddenly called out to stop Nancy as she watched her retreating figure.

"What's wrong?" Nancy turned her head.

“Tell me about the origin of this piece of jewelry.” Fan Ning looked at the blue bracelet on her fair wrist.

During the day, while the two were playing with Lianka and her brother at the workhouse, Nancy left Fanning with a fleeting memory: a girl squatting down and reaching out, the blue bracelet on her wrist shimmering in the sunlight.

Fan Ning couldn't explain how he had come to remember her again. Since tonight, certain fleeting thoughts of "overlapping timelines" had been crowding out Fan Ning's senses. To put it absurdly, he even thought that Luna, who had asked for a hug a few years ago, had also worn a similar bracelet, only the color was different, perhaps blood-red—but how could that be? She was just a two- or three-year-old orphaned girl in a poorhouse; she wouldn't have any expensive jewelry. It was just a confusion in his memory.

“Oh, this is an identification badge for the hammer bearer. It's the badge you need to receive the hammer each time you enter the red carpet,” Nancy explained, raising her wrist. “I've been wearing it since I took the job five years ago. Is there a problem?”

"So it can be assumed that it was a gift from Leirich to you?"

"If that's the case, hmm? Indeed, he is the chief hammer wielder, naturally appointed by the curator."

Fanning frowned and remained silent for more than ten seconds.

The hammer-wielder must make wise choices, avoiding curses and escaping control. The inexplicable words spoken by the Squiaben appraiser in the gallery resurfaced in Fanning's mind.

The hammer-wielder must make a wise choice.
This statement can be interpreted in two ways, and they are not contradictory. One is that the hammer-wielder should be "smarter" when making choices, such as choosing the correct "phantom object." The other is that they should be smarter in "choosing who to wield the hammer."

Avoid curses and stay away from control.
In a short while, half of the five-minute time limit had passed, and Fanning quickly pulled Nancy back to the control panel while thinking.

Nancy was a little confused, but Fanning didn't have time to explain much. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and placed it under a special light device used for identification.

"Click—" The switch is turned on.

Under strong light, the inside of the bracelet revealed a series of dense, needle-like shadows, and it also emitted a faint bluish-green glow!