I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 197 Spring Inspection in the Western Suburbs

In early February in Briston, melting snow and muddy water overflowed from the streets, leaving deep and shallow tracks on the ground by passing carriages and pedestrians.

The weather was still gloomy and cold.

That morning, Mr. Hutton was talking about the section on Emperor Justinian's reorganization of Roman law.

After class, the old gentleman asked him to come to his place after lunch.

After lunch, Grey took another gingerbread man out of the tin box and gave it to him.

He took a bite, the aroma of butter filling the air, and the quill pen used for the sugar drawing crumbled into pieces on his teeth.

Hugh is still working on that chicken leg sketchbook, and he's already on the teens. He claims he'll draw every kind of poultry that can be eaten from the winter break until spring.

Warren told a joke about his uncle's recent business trip from Newcastle to Bristol.

Mason complained that all the horses he was interested in had lost, and he had lost all the pocket money he had painstakingly saved.

After the meal, he walked down the corridor toward Mr. Hutton's office.

When I got to the office door, it was closed.

Richard knocked three times.

"Enter."

He pushed open the door and found that there was another person in front of the desk.

It's Wentworth, the head of the inspection team at the Briston office.

Upon seeing him again, Richard's first thought was that he had "lost even more weight."

Wentworth skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the point:

"Mrs. McNeil told you before, didn't she? She asked you to come along and observe the Spring Seal maintenance."

"Old Big is preparing things at the branch office. He'll depart at 2 PM, heading to the western suburban mining area."

Richard glanced at Mr. Hutton.

What exactly is the situation at the western suburban mining area?

"Routine spring inspection." Mr. Hutton put down his teacup. "The branch office organizes one every year around this time."

"There are three small blood spots in the western mining area," Wentworth added. "And there's one in the center..."

"Shouldn't we be scammed?"

The old man's white eyebrows twitched.

How do you know that name?

"I deciphered it while looking through some materials at the municipal library a while ago."

Richard answered quickly: "The city library has a book called 'A Collection of Folk Songs from the Mines West of Briston'."

Wentworth chuckled.

"So you've read it. The author of that book has been dead for twenty years."

"He was a senior figure in the local guild during his lifetime. After his death, several of his writings were scattered in various places. This copy in the city library was donated by the Briston Education Association."

Mr. Hutton, however, kept his eyes fixed on his students:

"This book has been sitting in the city library for many years, and very few people ever look at it."

"You actually thought of going to the city library to look for steganographic text... You really love reading."

The old man's implication was that he hadn't heeded the advice he'd received in Whitcomb.

Richard was somewhat embarrassed.

"After you figured out the name," Wentworth steered the conversation back, "did you do anything?"

That's what they care about most.

"Nothing much was done; we just marked the locations of three small bloodstains on the map in red."

"Didn't you go to the site to see for yourself?" the inspection team leader asked deliberately.

“Going to the scene could be considered ‘reverse infiltration.’” Richard answered decisively, “I’ve read the rules very carefully.”

Wentworth held the teacup in his hands and nodded in satisfaction.

"Great, they're much easier to take care of than the kids we've had in the past few years."

"Since you've even revealed the name that shouldn't be used, there's something else I should let you know."

"Those mines in the western suburbs are going to have a rough winter."

"Unpaid wages, price suppression... There was a collapse at the Blackstone Mine last month, killing seven people, and the compensation is still pending."

"Rumors of a strike have been circulating in the western suburbs for over half a month."

Richard's heart skipped a beat.

"Will today's spring inspection be affected?"

Wentworth shook his head.

"The mystical side and the administrative side are strictly separated. Strikes are a matter of local security, which falls under the jurisdiction of the police and the military, not ours."

Richard nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

Wentworth finished the rest of the tea in his cup and put it back on the coaster.

"Leave at two o'clock. Go home and pack your things, bring whatever you can."

"I'll probably be out all night tonight, and whether I can come back early tomorrow morning depends on the situation."

Richard left the office carrying his schoolbag.

He went around Greenwood through the side door and boarded the bus back to Slag Lane.

By the time we arrived at the branch office, it was almost 1:30.

He went home first, threw down his schoolbag, and changed into a durable jacket.

I told my mother that I was going on a field mission with my guide today and might have to spend the night outside.

He then stuffed the long box of silver needles, the small bottle of deep ether condensate, the camera, and the notebook from the drawer compartment into a single backpack.

Webberly's revolver and bullets were also strapped to the inside pocket of his coat with a leather belt.

When they arrived at the branch office, Old Big was carrying a small wooden box.

"Richard!"

Old Big looked up and saw him:

"You're right on time. I just loaded the engraving knife set onto the truck, and now I need to move the set containing coarse salt and holy water."

"I'll help you move it."

"No, no, no," Old Big stepped back.

"The sealing equipment must not be touched by anyone other than the operator."

Richard didn't insist either; Old Bige was much more tense than usual today.

"Such a big commotion today?"

"You haven't been here long, so it's normal that you don't know much." Old Big straightened up.

"Actually, there are very few truly unusual events in the city. The main task of our branch offices in various places is to seal off and patrol."

As they were talking, the door to the main building of the branch office opened.

Mrs. McNeill came out, today she was wearing trousers that were easy to move in, with a long gray wool coat over them, and she was carrying her leather suitcase.

Richard knew that it contained her whole set of psychic and divination tools.

She was followed by two younger professionals.

One was a woman of medium height with short, dark brown hair, regular eyebrows and eyes, and tightly pursed lips.

The other was a tall, thin man in his early thirties with neatly combed black hair and a mole at the corner of his eye.

Mrs. McNeil saw Richard and nodded to him.

"They're here."

"Yes, madam."

"Let me introduce myself." She turned around:

"These two are Ms. Maud and Mr. Spence; maintaining the seal is their profession."

"Today we went to the mining area in the western suburbs. The two of them are foreign aids that the branch office applied for from Manchester City."

Richard shook hands with both of them.

Ms. Maud's handshake was tight, and the back of her hand was icy cold.

Mr. Spence's hand was at a normal temperature, and he nodded slightly as he shook it: "Mr. Hutton has been mentioning you a lot lately in our small circle of professionals in the North."

Richard was momentarily at a loss for words.

Mrs. McNeil took over the conversation:

"We can talk about polite things later. Mr. Hutton and Mr. Wentworth should be here shortly."

She walked a few steps to the other end of the yard and placed the suitcase on the trunk.

"Richard, come here for a second."

Richard followed.

Mrs. McNeill had her back to the others.

"Today we're going to the western mining area. Team leader Wentworth has given you the official accompanying documents."

Even the work assignments for today's site visit were all conducted under the guise of "trainee inspectors accompanying the team for observation."

"Once you get there, you will continue to be Mr. Hutton's assistant."

You can take pictures of the inscription replication process and write them down in a notebook.

"How much information you can compile afterward depends on you."

Richard nodded. He had already done the sealing practice once before, so while he wasn't exactly an expert, he was certainly no longer a complete novice.

Mrs. McNeil continued with today's arrangements:

"After arriving at the scene today, we will form several protective arrays."

The outermost circle consists of hunters; further in are the hermits.

"The two seats in the innermost circle are the inscription table where Mr. Hutton works and you."

"You stand there, nominally as Mr. Hutton's recorder, but in reality, you are protected inside by several light locks."

She loosened the handle of the suitcase.

"Don't think you're unimportant just because you're a newcomer. You already demonstrated your value last time, so keep it up this time."

Richard replied, "I understand."

As they were talking, Mr. Hutton and Wentworth arrived.

The old man took a folded piece of paper out of the inside pocket of his coat.

"This is a map showing the location of the Nine-Layered Stone Ring."

"Things are simpler today than they were with Whitcomb."

"Whitcom is an emergency maintenance due to a seal failure, while this is a routine spring inspection in the western suburban mining area."

He watched as the students stuffed the location maps into their bags, and then added a reminder:

"We inspect the gate every year to see if anyone tries to squeeze in."

"Every year during the spring inspection, we guard against two things."

Richard raised his head.

"The first thing is the evil monsters rioting during the window period. When the rings are loosened, the overall operating capacity of the seal will drop."

Dirt from deep within the pit rises up through the cracks; this happens every year, and it's simply cleaned up according to procedure.

“Another thing…” Mr. Hutton looked at him.

"Someone is trying to squeeze in while Songhuan is in operation."

"Squeeze in?"

"Reverse infiltration always involves some desperate, opportunistic, or simply brain-dead individuals."

They wanted to take advantage of the few days when the seal was at its weakest to sneak into the weakest point and try to obtain something that even they themselves couldn't explain.

"Don't just think of the set of rules for the branch office to go down the mine as a way to ward off evil spirits; half of them are to prevent people from squeezing in."

Richard carefully folded the location map and stuffed it into his backpack.

"I've got it, sir."

………………

The van was packed with people, bumping along a country dirt road in the western suburbs.

The afternoon sun wasn't too strong, but it was so stuffy inside that people were sweating.

No one spoke in the car; everyone was silently making their preparations.

Richard took out his notebook and found the contents of "The Taboo Song of the Well".

He flipped from page thirty-two to page forty-seven, rereading each line as it came.

He had memorized every page and every punctuation mark, but he still preferred to read it aloud with his eyes on the paper.

The seventh song is titled "Don't Respond".

"Os mutum, ne respondeas. (Keep your mouth shut, do not respond.)"

"If you hear one sound, don't respond; if you hear two sounds, don't respond; if you hear three sounds, turn around and leave; if you hear four sounds, squat down where you are."

[Reflection] Since the start of the project, his approach to interpreting the materials he has been working on has changed.

In the past, he had read the rule that "you should not respond when you hear unfamiliar voices underground."

Now, as he rereads it, [contemplation] transcends the rules themselves.

If the thing down in the well simply calls out a name, then there are only two states: "yes" and "no".

However, the miners' rudimentary methods divided it into several levels, each corresponding to a different approach.

The simplest explanation is that the "calling" of that thing down in the well has different intensities or different ways.

One sound is its long-range detection; the distance is too great to pose any threat.

The two sounds indicate that it is detecting at a medium range, closer in distance, but not yet locked on.

The third beep means it has identified your location.

However, it hasn't locked on yet, so turning around and walking away can interrupt this process.

The fourth tone indicates that it has already locked on, and turning around won't help because it already knows where you are.

You can only crouch down and stay still, letting it sweep over you.

Based on his previous experience with Whitcomb, he inexplicably felt that this responsive mechanism was similar to the work done by scholars.