From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

Although somewhat surprised, Ms. Shaw still had a pleasant conversation with Edmund.

Having learned a great deal about the local situation, the latter happily returned to the hotel with a bag of green tea.

Now that the club's procurement channels have been established, we should formally contact that impoverished nobleman tomorrow.

With the seven-day temporary permit decreasing day by day, he needs to obtain local sponsorship as soon as possible.

The Schenker family possesses historical data and some legal rights in the region corresponding to the Farrian coordinates, and Edmund needs to personally assess whether the Earl is a suitable partner.

Upon returning, he wrote a letter of inquiry in the name of Adrian Cole, vaguely mentioning "materials left by geologist Robert Young," and attached a business card from the North Shore Company and a copy of a certificate of commendation issued by the United Shipping Company. The next morning, he asked the hotel receptionist to deliver the letter to the Earl's mansion, while he went to the Twilight Harbor Library.

The local library lacks advanced features like computer databases, but its collection of local newspapers dates back more than fifty years.

Edmund spent two hours going through reports about the Schenkel family and quickly filled in the missing parts of the letter.

The current Earl of Twilight Harbor, Edgar von Schinkel, is fifty-four years old and inherited the title twenty years ago. At that time, the family still owned warehouses, docks, large tracts of coastal land, and a shipyard.

Subsequently, cargo transportation continued to shift to Cape Lop, and the failure of operations, coupled with several underwater surveys that swallowed up a large amount of cash, led to the gradual mortgaging or sale of these assets.

The newspapers initially called him "an ambitious young count," then a few years later he became "the last treasure hunter of Twilight Harbor," and in recent years their columns have preferred to fill the gaps in the pages with his failures.

In all publicly reported instances, Schenker was never charged with fraud—he did invest his remaining funds in the investigation, which at least proves he believed his story.

Somewhat surprisingly, before lunchtime, someone delivered the reply from the hotel reception to the library.

Edmund peeled off the thin wax seal on the envelope. The text contained only a few lines: The Earl welcomes Mr. Cole to the manor at three o'clock this afternoon and says that the carriage will arrive at the inn at two-thirty.

This swift response clearly demonstrates how much the Earl anticipates new investors.

After leaving the library, he went to the largest commercial bank near the square, where a cleared overseas remittance was sufficient to verify Adrian's accounts.

However, when Edmund asked the bank to issue a certified check for 50,000 Eagle Coins, he unexpectedly experienced an attitude that was initially arrogant but later became obsequious.

Upon seeing the seven-day temporary permit, the clerk politely and generally suggested that he go to Cape Lop to complete the process.

Once the telegram confirming the account balance was sent back, the branch manager, who had been sitting behind the glass partition, came out in person.

Edmund happily entered the private meeting room to complete the formalities and declined the local legal and accounting team recommended by the manager.

Just minutes before, Adrian Cole was a foreign businessman with incomplete documentation, but as he left the bank, he became the respected Mr. Cole.

At 2:30 p.m., Edmund waited for a black carriage with a worn and grayish paint. An old servant with gray hair, who was driving the carriage, checked his name and opened the door for him.

"His Excellency the Earl is already waiting in the study, Mr. Cole. There are no other guests at the manor today, so the two of you can have a thorough conversation."

Schinkel Estate is located on a hill north of Dusk Harbor. The carriage travels up a dilapidated stone slab slope and eventually enters a manor surrounded by stone walls.

The mansion is built of dark gray stone, with a roof featuring the steep slopes common in northern Plichni, and several outbuildings in the distance are mostly closed.

When Edmund arrived here, he felt as if he had stepped back into the environment of the last century.

After stepping down from the carriage, the old butler of the mansion led him through a corridor lined with portraits of Schenkels from different eras.

Starting with the armored Arman, the ports behind these Schenkels gradually expanded, steamships replaced sailing ships, and then the railways appeared.

However, in the portraits of the last two generations of earls, the port appears quite empty.

In the study, the fifty-four-year-old Edgar von Schinkel solemnly received Edmund.

This nobleman reminded the latter of Captain Moreau, and if he were to say that Edmund could pick up an axe and chop people up, he would believe it to be true because of his sharp eyes, tightly pursed lips and massive physique.

At the start of the conversation, the count seemed to restrain himself, not mentioning his past with Robert Young, and instead began to sell his land in the southern warehouse, the small dock near the railway, and the northern breakwater.

Edmund listened patiently to his emphasis on the expectation that these assets would appreciate after the investigation was reopened before pulling out a few copies and clippings from the file bag, which had been kindly provided by the Shedding Club.

"I am certain that your warehouse is subject to at least two debt agreements, and although the land to the north has not been sold, Red Anchor holds a fifteen-year development contract."

He crossed his arms and calmly looked at the count opposite him: "It would be very unprofessional to buy these assets cheaply only to find that you have inherited loans and disputes."

The count silently stroked the silver laurel brooch, a weary smile on his face: "You are more cautious than the previous investors."

Edmund ignored the question and instead took out the letters that Robert Young had kept and pushed them in front of him.

Upon seeing the yellowed letters, Schenkel's expression froze, and he flipped through them one by one.

He paused for a long time on the torn letter: "This is the most undignified letter I've ever written."

Edmund picked up his tea and took a sip: "At least it's honest enough. Mr. Yang didn't completely dismiss your claims. He marked the reef areas on the nautical charts where schools of fish and seabirds gathered, suggesting there might be a large space beneath."

The tea wasn't very good quality, and even with milk added, it didn't suit his taste. However, there was plenty of honey, filling his mouth with sweetness.

The Earl clutched the letter in his hand: "So, Mr. Yang still believes that all of this lacks evidence?"

"He believed that the area where you described the fish and seabirds gathered was valuable, and he made annotations on the map, suggesting that there might be a large space beneath the reef."

Edmund spread out his handwritten map, and a red marker circled the area ten to fifteen kilometers off the coast of Dusk Harbor.

"The same coordinates were hidden in the encrypted notes of a deceased researcher who was a ritual advisor to a supernatural organization. There is no reason for him to bother encrypting an ordinary treasure location."

Schenker stared at the coordinates: "Then where did he go? Why, why didn't he come and see for himself?"

Edmund didn't want to answer the question, so he took out an old medal wrapped in a handkerchief.

When the rusted laurel wreath and the ship's lamp appeared on the table, Schenker tensed up and grabbed a magnifying glass to examine them closely.

His voice trembled: "The Knights of the Laurel, the Western Fleet—this was originally engraved with Viktor von Schinkel. It's my great-grandfather's medal. Where did you get it?"

After Edmund gave a brief explanation, the Earl breathed a sigh of relief: "It was fate."

He got up and walked to the filing cabinet by the wall, took out a wooden box, retrieved several old documents, and handed the guest a pair of gloves.

Edmund carefully perused the documents and discovered that they were all quite old contracts, some of which could even trigger information flows.

The count, on the other hand, paced excitedly back and forth in the open space of the hall in front of him.

"One hundred and twenty-seven years ago, the Black Crown Fleet blockaded the western route of the Heartbreak Sea. Our ancestor led the knights to defeat the fleet at Sunset Cape, rescued the members of the Norbus Soren royal family, and captured the Black Crown. As a result, the royal family granted the family the right to salvage the Dusk Harbor fiefdom and the sea area for generations."

The count's face paled slightly: "But eighty-one years ago, my great-grandfather Victor was convinced that the Black Crown had entered a gap in the spirit world that overlapped with reality. He summoned the descendants of the Knights to return to the Old Port to search for it, and that night, the ship and the port disappeared together."

At this point, the count seemed to be lost in memories.

"Mr. Cole, this is what my family has been waiting for for generations: the return of Old Port will allow us to reclaim the rights and power we have lost for decades. As for this letter alone, I have waited seventeen years..."

A moment later, the count snapped out of his reverie and looked down at Edmund, who was sitting on the sofa watching him calmly. A sharp glint returned to his eyes.

"Since you've come to Twilight Harbor, you must have already considered cooperation. If you can help me find the Old Harbor and the Black Crown, the Schenker family is willing to hand over half of its inheritance, including the extraordinary portion."