Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

"We're here." Pierre took a deep breath and parked the car steadily in the open space outside the cabin. He turned off the engine, got out, and straightened his collar. Xing Qingfeng slowly opened the car door and looked around. His eyes fell on a bench in front of the wooden house, where several old books that had obviously been read countless times were piled.

"Flat? Wake up, get up." Xing Qingqi turned around and knocked on the car window. Flat then lazily sat up, rubbed his sleepy face, got out of the car and followed the two of them.

Pierre walked quickly forward and knocked on the door. The sound was particularly clear in the quiet forest. The three of them waited quietly, but there was no movement from inside the house.

"No one?" Flat tilted his head and looked at Pierre, "No way?"

Pierre frowned slightly and knocked on the door again, this time with a little more force: "Teacher, it's me, Pierre."

After a moment's silence, footsteps finally sounded from within the doorway, slow and steady. A moment later, the door opened a crack, revealing a wrinkled face. Grothendieck's eyes remained sharp, as if he could see through everyone before him at a glance.

He glanced at the three of them, his gaze lingering on Pierre for a moment, and then he smiled helplessly.

"...It's you again." He sighed, a hint of helplessness in his tone, "Are you trying to persuade me to go back again?"

Pierre opened his mouth as if to explain, but Grothendieck simply reached out and pushed the door shut.

"Go back, Pierre." His voice came from behind the door, his tone firm. "I'm not going."

The wooden door clicked shut, the echo lingering in the quiet forest. A mountain breeze rustled through the branches, the air thick with the scent of moist earth. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees, casting dappled shadows on the three of them.

Flatt blinked, his eyes darting back and forth between the closed wooden door and Pierre. Finally, he shrugged and broke the silence: "Have we not met the requirements to unlock the hidden boss?"

Xing Qingfeng glanced at him and said nothing. Pierre sighed, raised his hand and rubbed his eyebrows, a helpless smile on his lips.

"Maybe," he said, his eyes sweeping around the bench in front of the door, landing on a few old books that had obviously been read countless times. He pondered for a moment, as if making some kind of decision, and turned to walk towards the car.

"Wait a moment." Pierre opened the car door, pulled out a folder from the back seat, and took out a pen. He flipped open a page and wrote something in the margin. Xing Qingqu stood nearby, tilting his head slightly to glance at the handwriting—a few lines of elegant French, each line expressing a certain solemnity.

After a moment, Pierre closed the folder and put it in an old book on the bench. Then he looked up at the layout of Grothendieck's wooden house, walked around the house, and finally stood under a half-open window. He waved to Xing Qingqi and Flatt, indicating that they should follow.

"I really don't want to use this method." Pierre muttered softly, but a smile that he couldn't hide was on his face. "Every time I do this, I get scolded by the teacher."

"There's nothing I can do." Pierre spread his hands and handed the book to Xing Qingqi, "Hold it for me."

Then he walked to the fence, bent down, and groped on the ground for a while. After a moment, he stood up holding a small piece of thin wire, with a smug smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Does your teacher know that you are doing this?" Xing Qingyu looked at his actions and asked with a smile.

"Of course I know." Pierre skillfully walked around to the window, half-crouched, and deftly inserted the wire into the gap between the window latch. With a flick of his wrist, the window latch made a soft click and then released. Pierre nodded with satisfaction and said seriously as he pushed open the window, "But he usually doesn't bother with me - of course, when he's really angry, he will still scold me to death."

Xing Qingqi raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and simply handed the book back to him. Pierre took it, weighed it briefly, glanced at the furnishings in the window, then adjusted the angle and threw the book in accurately.

"boom!"

The heavy book hit the floor with a dull thud. The walls and ceiling of the wooden house were made of unpolished logs, as if absorbing the external noise, making the sound of the book falling to the ground seem particularly abrupt and even a little harsh.

Almost in the next second, an angry voice suddenly exploded, like thunder, exploding in the house:

"Pierre, you bastard!"

The sounds in the house were mixed with hurried footsteps, as if someone stood up suddenly and knocked something over. The harsh sound of a wooden chair sliding on the floor came through the window.

Flatt shrank his neck suddenly, as if shaken by the roar, and unconsciously took a half step behind Xing Qingjiu. He couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Feels exactly like Order Xing..."

However, before he could finish his words, he felt his scalp tighten, and a long, powerful hand was already clasping his head, and the fingertips exerted a little force, forcing him to raise his head.

"What did you just say?" Xing Qingqi's voice sounded calm, but Flatt sensed a hint of danger in it.

Flatt froze for a moment, his mouth twitching slightly before he quickly put on an innocent expression. He raised his finger and saluted solemnly: "Order Xing, Flatt didn't say anything."

Xing Qingwu glanced at him, his fingers paused for a moment, and finally slowly let go of his head, as if he was too lazy to care about this performance.

At the same time, the roar in the house continued. Grothendieck's voice was low and had a unique French accent, mixed with some curses. His voice was old but still powerful, revealing an unquestionable majesty: "What do you want to do again, you guy?! How many times?! How many times have I told you not to bother me again-"

The wind blew in from the mountains, carrying the scent of grass and earth, and also swept across the corners of the three people's clothes. Xing Qingqi's eyes fell on Pierre's face, studying his expression, and finally said meaningfully, "It seems that your trick is quite effective."

Pierre shrugged nonchalantly, spread his hands, and smiled innocently yet cunningly: "This is an effective method that has been proven in many years of practice."

His tone was so relaxed that it seemed as if he hadn't just thrown a letter through the window, but was instead carrying out some kind of routine. Even as his mentor's angry roar echoed from within the room, his expression remained unwavering, even carrying a hint of composure, a familiar air.

The window was half-closed, and light from inside shone through the crack onto the floor. A fallen wooden chair and a stack of manuscripts were faintly visible. Pierre tilted his head slightly, his face still adorned with that provocative smile. "Teacher, could you please read the book first?"

The anger in the room seemed to have not completely subsided. Grothendieck snorted coldly, his tone full of obvious impatience: "I don't have anything to see—"

However, the voice suddenly stopped mid-sentence. There was silence in the room for a few seconds, and then, several steady and powerful footsteps could be heard on the wooden floor, as if someone had walked to the window and paused.

The next moment, the window was suddenly pushed open and a figure leaned out.

Grothendieck stood by the window, the setting sun's rays shone on his shoulders, further framing his features. His hair had thinned to the point of baldness, and time had left deep wrinkles on his face, but his eyes remained sharp. He wore a loose gray sweater, the cuffs slightly rolled up, revealing a veiny wrist. He looked more energetic than they had expected.

He narrowed his eyes, scanning the three people outside the window before finally landing on Pierre. He said in a low and serious tone, "Pierre, what are you trying to convince me of?"

Pierre met his gaze without hesitation, a relaxed smile on his lips, and spread his hands: "Actually, this time it's not for you, teacher."

Grothendieck paused for a moment, his brow furrowed. “…Hmm?”

"It's for him." Pierre said, stretching out his hand and pointing to Flat beside him.

Flatt was suddenly called out, and before he could react, he froze for a moment. Then he immediately straightened his back, trying to appear upright and serious. However, his expression subtly stiffened for a moment, as if he couldn't completely conceal his confusion and nervousness.

"Um... hello, sir," Flatt finally spoke, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

Grothendieck's gaze fell on Flatt, sharp and deep, as if he could see through all his thoughts at a glance. He was silent for a few seconds, and the air seemed to freeze at this moment, with only the rustling of leaves in the wind echoing in his ears.

Flatt swallowed uncomfortably, but maintained his upright posture, meeting the legendary mathematician's gaze firmly.

Grothendieck stared at him for a moment, then spoke slowly, his voice low and measured: "...What's your name?"

Flat's eyes lit up slightly, and he quickly replied, "Flat Escaldes."

Silence fell again. Grothendieck slowly narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting subtly between Flatt and Pierre, as if weighing something. His expression was complex, and finally, he sighed softly, his tone revealing an indescribable emotion: "What on earth are you going to do, kid..."

However, unlike his previous anger, his tone was no longer sharp, but revealed a hint of helplessness, and even... a hint of hesitant concession.

The smile on Pierre's face deepened, as if he had anticipated this outcome.

Grothendieck finally shook his head, sighed as if he was helpless, then turned and walked into the house and opened the door casually.

"Come in," he said finally.

"Is this... done?" Flatt muttered softly.

Pierre smiled triumphantly, walked back to the door, and pushed it open. He stepped over the threshold and walked into the house. Xing Qingqi and Flatt exchanged a glance, then finally followed him.

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Pierre leaned over and carefully picked up the scattered manuscripts one by one, his movements gentle and practiced, as if he had a deep respect for these precious papers. He folded the manuscripts neatly and placed them back on the desk. Then he walked to the overturned chair, grasped the back of the chair with both hands, and straightened it, making sure every detail was restored to its original state.

"Teacher, I've found this kid—a genius." Pierre pulled a document from his folder and handed it to Grothendieck, his tone full of anticipation and seriousness. "I'm a little unsure, but after much thought, I think only you're qualified to get to the bottom of it."

Grothendieck took the document and flipped through it, his eyes wandering over the pages. "Hmm, magic squares and the basic four-color problem?" He said calmly, seemingly unmoved by the content.

Xing Qingfeng stepped forward and added, "Flat didn't think at all when he was solving these problems. He wrote down the answers almost intuitively without hesitation." He paused, then continued, "And his math knowledge is only at the junior high school level. He can only understand the basic four arithmetic operations, simple plane geometry, and linear equations."

Grothendieck nodded slightly, a thoughtful look on his face. He flipped through the test papers and homework again, his eyes becoming more focused. After a moment, he raised his head, looked directly at Flatt, and suddenly asked, "Flatt, do you like math?"

Flatt didn't hesitate, his eyes were firm, and his voice was loud: "I like it!"

"You can't possibly like..." Grothendieck was about to categorically dismiss Flatt, but when he noticed Flatt's expression was completely genuine, he frowned slightly and reassessed the young man. After a moment's hesitation, he turned and walked back to the study. "Well, let's do a test with me. Just the two of us. Come on."

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By the way, Pierre was about sixty years old at this time, and Grothendieck was in his eighties.

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

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By the way, I recommend this book: "Delta is also porridge!"

Summary:

There is such a game:

As one of the major forces, the company claims to be a scientific research and industrial enterprise, but secretly develops military equipment, raises a large number of soldiers, interferes in the internal affairs of other countries and supports leaders.

The leader of the company is called Doctor, and for some reason he disappeared from the stage for a while in the timeline.

The doctor had a good relationship with another female leader of the company, but in the end there was betrayal and separation between the two.

The name refers to the Tower of Babel in the Old Testament of the Bible.

Our basic combat units are called Operators

The operator called Weilong once existed. (VIII) Guilt ⒌ Strike cage si ghost things are very annoying

There is a very powerful hostile female boss related to aerospace

There is a super-masculine old lady character dubbed in Chinese by Wu Xiangtong

Certain players in the game are known for their unusual love for feet.

Name contains Zhou

Even Amiya

Its icon is a triangle

Yes, this game is tomorrow--

(Covering his mouth) Delta Operation!

-

Mai Lin: Today, the top secret Bakshi is on, elbow, fierce attack!

"Shut down all ship defense systems"

Mai Lin: Bu Dui, what have you done to me? Is this still the Tower of Babel I know?

Volume 58: Xing Qingfeng's Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . He is a genius, but unfortunately he is not suitable for mathematics

Grothendieck's study was located deep within the cabin. Pushing open the heavy oak door, one was greeted by a space imbued with an academic atmosphere. The study wasn't large, but its walls were dominated by bookshelves, densely packed with a variety of books. The arrangement of the books seemed somewhat messy, as if the owner frequently browsed through them, searching for inspiration.

In the center was an old oak desk, its surface covered with manuscripts, notebooks, and various stationery. An old-fashioned desk lamp stood quietly at the corner, casting a soft light on the papers.

Grothendieck sat in a high-backed chair behind his desk. He asked again, “Let me ask you again: do you like mathematics?”

"I'm happy, Dr. Li, and I'm happy!" Flatt answered without hesitation.

"No one else here will know your answer," Grothendieck frowned slightly, as if thinking about something. He emphasized again, "Do you really like it?"

Flat nodded and answered affirmatively: "Yes!" His attitude was firm, without a trace of hesitation.

Grothendieck shook his head and denied it: "Impossible. Judging from your previous homework, using intuition to get accurate answers is completely suppressing your nature-" He paused and his eyes fell on Flat again.

"—You actually like this kind of behavior? It's unreasonable."

Flatt explained with a bewildered look on his face: "I really like math. I've only recently fallen in love with it." There was a hint of helplessness in his tone, as if he didn't understand why his love for math was being questioned.

"

“Okay. I looked at your previous test.” Grothendieck took a deep breath, as if thinking about something. “Is writing a magic cube okay?”

"No problem!" Flatt said confidently, "Whether it's level seven, level nine, or whatever, just come on!"

Grothendieck raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by Flatt’s confidence: “Sixteenth level, any problem?”

Flatt puffed out his chest and said confidently, "Simple! Then I'll..."

“Don’t be impatient,” Grothendieck said, raising his hand to stop him, his tone serious. “I haven’t finished yet.”

He paused, looked directly into Flat's eyes, and slowly said, "You need to construct a magic cube that strictly meets the following conditions. First, it must be a four-dimensional hypercube. That is, based on the original three dimensions, you need to construct a non-existent dimension and use it as the foundation for the next step of construction."

Flatt frowned slightly, as if thinking about Grothendieck's words.

Grothendieck continued: “In any direction in four dimensions, every row, column, height, and the fourth dimension is a magic sum, that is, the sum of all one-dimensional lines is equal. On this basis, you have to ensure that not only the main diagonal, such as from vertex to diagonal vertex, but also the diagonals of all subspaces, such as the diagonals of two-dimensional faces, the diagonals of three-dimensional cubes, and so on are equal—including the space diagonal of the four-dimensional hypercube.”

Flatt's expression gradually changed from initial confidence to confusion. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but finally closed it.

"Any other questions?" Grothendieck asked in a slightly slower tone, observing Flatt's reaction.

"Um... what does the fourth non-existent dimension mean..." Flatt finally spoke, his voice hesitant. "I don't quite understand."

“Literally,” Grothendieck replied quickly. “You need to build a new direction based on the original three.”

Flatt was stunned, his eyes wandering around the room, as if looking for an answer. His fingers tapped unconsciously on the table, his brow furrowed, obviously thinking hard.

The seconds ticked by, the only sound in the room being the ticking of the clock. About ten minutes later, Flatt looked up, his eyes filled with confusion. "Are there any... sample images or something?"

Grothendieck shook his head, his tone stern. “No, figure it out yourself.” He picked up a sheet of manuscript paper and a pen from the table and handed it to Flatt. “Take your time. There’s no time limit.”

Flatt took the manuscript paper and pen, took a deep breath, sat down at the table and began to try. He drew a cube on the paper and drew several two-dimensional magic squares next to it, trying to find inspiration from them.

However, whenever he tried to expand these two-dimensional or three-dimensional figures to four dimensions, his mind seemed to hit an invisible wall. His pen paused on the paper, his brow furrowed, and a trace of anxiety flashed in his eyes.

He tried again, this time drawing a three-dimensional magic square on paper and filling it with numbers, but when he tried to add the fourth dimension, he found himself at a loss.