You two, what are you on about, whispering like that?! Twintails complains, while tossing everything she is carrying straight into Welt's arms. … Da-da-danger! With great difficulty, the young man manages to grab one bag after another, as they fly towards him in quick succession. In a state of panic, he spits out — We're in the middle of a street! What should we do if something breaks? You pay. Tesla shrugs, matter-of-factly. … You're being too much of a bully. Hmph, since the Finn was left over on the other side to handle the translation and archaeological work, you shall now automatically assume his “male duties”. Is that too hard to understand? Oh, and if Planck had not run off to Vienna, she could've also shared these menial tasks with you … （ … It's indeed hard to understand. Perhaps it'd be better to ask why a person like you had to go everywhere and buy bags upon bags of useless stuff. ） （ … And wasn't it you who clearly said, “No problem, no problem, you two can go ahead and leave us”? ） To translate for you — She's actually asking you what “we” were just talking about. Einstein, who is leading the way by herself, stretches lazily and explains without looking back at Welt. … What? … I-is that really her intent? Hey, I'm not that awkward, alright?! So you should respond to her: Eins is introducing you to the history of Northern Ireland and the city of Londonderry, something that Eins is very familiar with — Refusing to acknowledge Twintails' complaints in the slightest, Mophead speaks according to standard protocol, as though she were minding her own business — — and in so doing, to show you how Celtic culture is gradually being eroded by Anglo-Saxon culture. Hmm … just now I should be detailing the differences between Scotland, Wales and Ireland … What the … After hearing the actual details of the “conspiratorial whispering” between Einstein and Welt, Tesla's expression instantly brightened. Last time you said you've been to Ireland, was it actually here? Mm-hmm. At that time, it was not easy to buy air tickets, so I left from here for New York by ship. Ship? Mm. it was the first time I left home for long-distance travel … I was quite happy, actually. Although the time spent on the journey was rather long. Ah … was that twenty years ago? … Huh? … Tesla, it was nine years ago. Your answer was off by more than ten … Twenty years ago … how old were you yourself … According to the itinerary, today we will rest here for a day — then we will cross the Atlantic. We have a rare day to spend on land — is there anything you want to play? … Teacher, why, you are acting like a child in school. Instead of wasting time “playing”, I feel it's better if we just find a comfortable place to do some light reading … … Fräulein Einstein, are you trying to make me happy or sad? … No, today you must accompany me and we shall do this and that together! … Let's go, we shall climb the city walls! You … You still remember such things so clearly. I say … when I was seven or eight, those places my grandpa took me to — I've long since forgotten what they're like. Anyway, it was in the Croatian countryside. Some backwater where birds won't even bother crapping in. Wasn't particularly interesting anyway. No, I also don't have much of an impression of what happened when I was young. It's just a coincidence that I retain this fragment of memory. Huh? But if one was interested enough in a place, they would naturally seek a lot of information about it. Slowly, one would become as familiar with the local customs as they are with the back of their hand. … It's indeed horrifying, a theorist's obsessive pursuit of knowledge. At any rate, it's better than those experimentalists who blow the roof off at the drop of a hat. Hey! Oh, then that's better yet again than those experimenters who destroy the world at the flick of a switch. … HEY THAT'S EVEN MORE OUTRAGEOUS!

So, on the fifth weekend of October, 1955 AD, three young souls — two women and one man, in a burst of laughter and jeering — ascended the walls of Londonderry, the best-preserved urban defensive structure in all of Europe since the Age of Enlightenment.


At that moment, they would have never thought that, in this Irish city, they would experience one of the most important events of their lives.

 Londonderry was originally only called Derry. Of course, it has nothing to do with the “Delhi” in India. Instead it comes from the Irish “Daire” — meaning “oak forest”. Later, a London chamber of commerce came here to colonise and develop the land, so they assigned the prefix “London” to the city's name. People from the colonial period seemed to enjoy naming things like this … Whether it's New York or Rhode Island, there are no few examples of people directly copying a European place name.

Note:

Rhode Island is one of the thirteen states that originally formed the United States. Its full name is “the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations”, of which the name “Rhode Island” is derived from the Greek island of Rhodes (Ρόδος).

Providence, the state capital, is home to Brown University, and is also the hometown of Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890-1937), a famous novelist and creator of the Cthulhu mythology.

Because it was a city developed by Londoners — Einstein continued her explanation unceasingly, completely ignoring the side-commentary from Tesla, — whether it was in the choice of location, or the planning of its central urban district, in both respects the city deliberately imitated London. From the current point of view, the main difference is probably … that the water quality of the River Foyle is much better than the River Thames.

Note:

The River Foyle is the main river that nurtures Londonderry, with its clear waters and rich biodiversity.

Londonderry's position relative to the river and its estuary was intentional — the city planners deliberately imitated London's position relative to the Thames.

Like the London City Wall, the Derry City Wall was also arranged in an approximate square or diamond shape; this was relatively rare for European cities. Of course, compared to London, the names of the city gates here are much more arbitrary, such as the “Shipquay Gate” right in front of us — so named because the gate faces the quay for overseas shipping. Similarly, going clockwise from the East, we see such gates as the “Ferryquay Gate”, “Bishop's Gate”, and “Butcher's Gate”. Derry is one of the few “virgin cities” in European history whose walls have never been breached since her founding — in 1689, she experienced a 105-day siege but was able to hold firm. Be that as it may … Ultimately, didn't it also have something to do with the remoteness of this place? Twin-tails retorts somewhat incredulously. No, no, no. At the time, it was an important hub connecting the British mainland with her American colonies, and many Irish immigrants set off from here for the New World. … Indeed, there is so much history … It feels like you've always been interested in Ireland, am I right? Actually it all started here … from this very city … When you realise the beauty of a culture, you will voluntarily search and dig up more information. Ireland is such a place to me. Shouldn't it be similar to someone else's interest in India? … Indeed I have read many books on Indian philosophy. However, unlike your situation, it is completely impossible for me to wholeheartedly embrace Indian culture. … ? Is it really that hard to understand? A caste system that divides people into four classes, from high to low — such a system should be extinguished. That … that wasn't what I meant just now … Eh … indeed, Tesla, you don't need to be so sensitive around such topics. Having said that, about that clue we specifically came for — do we really have a clear objective? Of course we do. Wait a moment … Right here! What was originally a mere “jaunt” around the one mile that is the Derry City Wall — — has now evolved into something more, as Mophead suddenly lies down in front of a cannon on the wall, taking out a flashlight from her pocket and holding it in her mouth. Wh-why so sudden … Ye-yes indeed, what's going on here? Welt and Tesla both seem puzzled. There are still 24 such cannons left. Oh … so what's so special about this one? Twintails shrugs, conveying her confusion. This one is also nothing special. Huh? It's just that the pointer jumped. Einstein pulls out some army-green device from her front pocket. What's this … a Geiger counter?

Note:

The Geiger counter, also known as the Geiger-Müller counter, is a particle detector used to detect ionising radiation. It is usually used to detect alpha rays (proton-and-neutron particles) and beta rays (electron particles), while some models can detect gamma rays (ultra-high frequency electromagnetic waves) and x-rays.

Is there a radioactive source here?! No … This is the trace Honkai energy detector that I let Ada convert from a Geiger counter some time ago. Doesn't it look fashionable? … Fashionable?! I say it looks pretty intimidating … Twintails sneers and turns up her nose at Mophead's fashion sense. Wait … Who's Ada? An assistant, just an assistant. Not much different from that Finn. Rather than gossip about that, let's first find this information left behind by that other party. Well. Mophead places her hands together in a style mimicking Sherlock Holmes. The story may have just begun. Here. After some length of time, Mophead, who had already been lying flat on the ground, points her finger towards a position on the underside of the cannon, and both companions also notice an abnormally-painted layer of black pitch. Einstein glances around, and seeing that no one else is nearby, takes out a knife and scrapes the body of the cannon a few times — And a line of silver inscription is clearly revealed.

The innocent queen has both her eyes blindfolded.


H.A.

Queen? Is this someone from British history? But what queen would be blindfolded … It couldn't be just some ignorant rambling nonsense … Hmm … Is it some kind of metaphor? Like “John the Baptist” or “Mary Antoinette”?

Note:

Both were beheaded and killed. In particular the death of John the Baptist is legendary for its extremely “beautiful” (read: sick and gratuitous*) description by Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) in his play “Salome” —

“Ah! thou wouldst not suffer me to kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan [John]. Well! I will kiss it now. I will bite it with my teeth as one bites a ripe fruit. Yes, I will kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan. I said it; did I not say it? I said it. Ah! I will kiss it now … But wherefore dost thou not look at me, Iokanaan? ” (*Translator's note: The Chinese word used here is 病娇, which is a loanword from Japanese ヤンデレ or “Yandere”)

John the Baptist? Mary Antoinette? What do you mean? Hmm … I was just speaking nonsense. Don't mind me. Don't mind me at all. It's not like I have a fetish for Wildean aesthetics or anything. … I don't understand at all. I am absolutely confused. Correct. Staying aloof from the awkward atmosphere brewing between the two, Mophead appears to arrive at an epiphany, suddenly bringing her hands together into a single clap. “The Execution of Lady Jane Grey”.

Note:

“The Execution of Lady Jane Grey” is an oil painting by Paul Delaroche (1797-1865), showing the historical tale of Lady Jane Grey (1537-1554) being deposed and executed at the age of 16.

? Ah … ! There is indeed such a painting! The subject of the painting — Queen Jane Grey — she is blindfolded, about to be executed by an executioner! It seems that we may be spending the night on a boat. — Tomorrow we shall be making a visit to the National Gallery. The next day. Ascending slowly up a flight of steps, and leaving Charing Cross Underground Station via a narrow exit, the group find themselves greeted by that iconic landmark of the Empire — Trafalgar Square. Perhaps symbolic of the fact that “the Sun never sets on the Empire”, even on a cold wintry Monday, there is no shortage of tourists. So this is the centre of Greater London … Looking at Nelson's Column, towering and piercing through the clouds, Welt cannot help but let out a sigh, with wonder and awe typical of a tourist. The inscription next to the memorial column indicates that it was built in honour of Admiral Horatio Nelson, the British national hero who led the Royal Navy to overwhelming victory against Napoleon's combined fleet, at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805 — with the unfortunate cost of his own life. His resourcefulness was unsurpassed, and his valour was unmatched as the bravest of the Coalition forces — whether it was in the Atlantic, or on the Nile, or in Copenhagen, or at Trafalgar, he repeatedly led England to decisive victories. But in doing so he lost his right eye, then his right arm, and finally his own life. The British were not all crafty diplomats. They were also industrious folk, a tenacious people willing to put their lives on the line — but alas, the glory of the Empire was too dazzling, and this in turn played no small role in obscuring and concealing the individuals who made great achievements in her name. “England expects every man to do his duty.”

Note:

“England expects that every man will do his duty.” This was the message issued by British Navy Admiral Nelson from his flagship “HMS Victory” before the start of the Battle of Trafalgar (1805). The semaphore signal is shown in the accompanying figure.

Due to an error in the referenced memoirs, the sentence was mistakenly memorialised on Nelson's Column as “England expects every man to do his duty”.

Recalling Planck's warning on the plane, the young man named Welt once again makes a secret resolution to himself — Huh? Where are the others? The art museum is to the north. Einstein grudgingly pulls on Welt's sleeve. Don't get lost. The items in your backpack are very important to us. Hmph. Tesla, who has long since been dissatisfied, takes this opportunity to double-down on Welt. How can someone like you ever survive, one who is so oblivious to everything? I reckon, even if you train him like a pet penguin to go to the market and buy fish for you, he'll still end up getting lost.

Note:

Penguins can learn this behaviour in reality. Please refer to the penguin “Lala” who once lived in Shibushi, Kagoshima Prefecture, Japan.

Ugh …

The National Gallery sits to the north, facing south, with a set of weathered, darkened Roman columns standing across the street from Trafalgar Square — silently narrating the glorious bygone days of the old Empire.

A heavy and profound history, laden with the sediment of life, is deposited upon the impassive architecture. This unique sense of oppression permeates through the gloomy cold haze of London, and occasionally reminds people of how formidable the violent institutions of “nationhood” and “society” can truly be.

And the people who dealt regularly with these institutions — without the reckless bravery of Spartacus, the fierce cruelty of Robespierre, the astute wisdom of Benjamin Franklin, and the determined willpower of Vladimir Lenin — Could they have really accomplished anything at all?

Hey! Wake up! Yeah, it's not as good as the British Museum, but it's still worth a visit! Not satisfied with Welt's despondent and pathetic appearance, Tesla slaps him hard on his shoulder. It's not like Tesla had said something weird. Einstein, who is leading the way, also seems a little discontent. Huh … What weird thing!? Obviously it's the truth. The state of one's emotions is born from the struggle between excitement and depression. Since you induced him towards one extreme, how can you blame him for not being at the other end? … No need to speak such baffling philosophising nonsense. It's totally not cute. … Welt, what do you think? Excitement or depression, what is the essential force behind human life, or should I say “human reason”? Or, from the perspective of aesthetics, which one is more “cute”? … ? The young man, his mind still wandering, had clearly not paid any attention to Mophead's question — I-I think … All girls are cute, no matter what they're like! Girls are justice! … For some reason, Twintail's face suddenly turns to a shade of red, then a shade of purple. Oh … Mophead seems unconcerned with the answer, or the fact that her original question remained unanswered. I wanted to ask Mr Welt what he thought of the “beauty of humanity” — but I'll take that as an answer. … Ugh. What a mediocre man. She gives him a hard flick on his forehead. I didn't expect researchers like you to be interested in damaged paintings. One of the management staff speaks, while leading the way in the rear promenade of the National Gallery. The pot-bellied, balding, obese middle-aged man is holding in his hand a wooden rack filled with hanging keys — the small metal keys clang incessantly against each other, in unison with his swaying, waddling steps. A flood of the Thames in 1928 destroyed much of our collection, and even now the full extent of the damage has not been clearly appraised. The only thing certain, is that the painting you're looking for is one of those in the ruined collection. Wait, you … What do you mean by “even now it has not been clearly appraised”? The other person's statement clearly refreshed in Tesla's mind, her acute awareness of bureaucratic inefficiency. Um … After all, there are more than 2,000 world-famous paintings in this museum … The manager splays his hands in a helpless, conceding gesture — How much damage each painting has incurred can only be evaluated when the restoration is complete. You must understand … a master can only restore two or three paintings in a year. It's all quite a troublesome affair. … So, this painting we are looking for — is it a work that is relatively low in priority for restoration? Yes, it can be said so. After all, it is a modern work and it is difficult to rank above those other older, more “classical” works. Let me tell you, even the famous and most highly-esteemed Turner, has several artworks that have yet to be restored. And in saying this, the fat balding uncle leading the group finally stops at the door of an old warehouse. This is it. I'll enter with you. Hmm … Tesla's face makes an uncomfortable expression — We are conducting research of a most confidential nature … So I've heard. The fat balding uncle does not budge — I don't care if you're MI5 or MI6 — Or whatever fancy get-up — But in this museum, non-staff visitors must never be left unsupervised. … No problem. Einstein shrugs, indicating that she does not mind. Let's go in together. Haha, I really appreciate your cooperation. At least this lady still has some common sense. Tsk. I'm only cooperating for your sake — ! Wha-wha-what — What is that stench? ! As the heavy door slowly opened with a creaking sound, a thick musty scent even heavier than the door instantly permeates into everybody's nostrils. Even Tesla, who had once visited a century-old wine cellar in Vienna, is taken aback by the pungent odour. After a painting is affected by damp moisture, a certain amount of oil-water admixture will form on its surface … and if it is sealed in an airtight warehouse at constant temperature … Returning the door bolt to its locked position, the fat uncle coughs a few times — If you think it through: the resulting product of fermentation, I'm afraid, is not much different from swill or hogwash in terms of its composition. … Please, please don't describe it so disgustingly. Cough cough … … It's “The Execution of Lady Jane Grey”, right? No index cards have been made here — So we can only check them by hand, one by one. With a meek smile, the fat uncle makes a statement even more demoralising than the thick musty smell enveloping them.

Despite having sustained flood damage, the cultural relics are still cultural relics after all. The Fat Uncle takes great pains to shout orders so that Welt's actions can be synchronised with his own. There is still considerable weight in the picture frames — and the action of carefully lifting up and putting down each frame, repeated dozens of times, has already given both men sore hips and aching backs, their bodies dripping with sweat.

“The Goddess of Discord Choosing the Apple of Contention in the Garden of the Hesperides” … There are a few Turners here. Riddled with holes and scars … What a pity …

“The Destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum” … This one's already taller than me! Speaking of which, does anyone know, the one we are looking for, how big is it ?!

Uh … this painting … will you two be okay?

Upon seeing a work that seems to be as tall as a football goalpost, Twintails hurries forward to assist.

Miss, move a bit over there … don't be more of a hindrance than a help.

Alright, young lad … I'll count to three … One, two, three — Heave!

A board-shaped object, larger than the warehouse door, is lifted shakily from its stand. The burlap cloth wrapped around the painting flutters about, raining down annoying puffs of dust — both hands occupied, Welt tries to hold back his sneeze, his facial features contorted to resemble a twisted pretzel. Alright … let's continue to remove these rags that are probably older than me … Fat Uncle wipes the sweat from his forehead, and very carefully opens the sleeve containing the oil painting, filled with copious stains, water marks and dust. This … This is it?! As soon as the old sleeve cloth is peeled open, a bright ivory white comes into view of the four around the painting. Upon a dim background, an innocent girl in a white dress is blindfolded, and an old man dressed as a priest leads her towards a cruel-looking chopping block. This is undoubtedly “The Execution of Lady Jane Grey” — and it is in fact very well-preserved! Im- … Impossible … How could it be possible … The Fat Uncle, who is apparently experienced and knowledgeable in the field of fine arts, almost drops his chin for a moment. My God! Not even a trace of mildew!! But this painting … Evidently puzzling over other things, Twintails holds up a magnifying glass and passes around to the back of the giant painting. … The signature area looks unchanged … Is there anything strange about this painting? Why … Can't this be considered miraculous enough? Of course Fat Uncle didn't understand what Tesla meant by “strange”. Do you remember where this painting was previously displayed? Little lady, you ask about this … Between laughter and tears, the Fat Uncle holds out his hands — Yet during the 1928 flood, I was nothing more than an ignorant Grammar-school student! … Having thus understood that she was seeking information from an idiot, Tesla sticks her tongue out. Not enough clues. Clues? Uncle Fat is still as confused as before, his mind in a fog. … I actually have a conjecture. From Welt's backpack, Einstein takes out a device that resembles a tube amplifier. May I use it to scan the canvas? Ah … Could it be … No, it can't be … Seeing this, Tesla also seems to realise an incredible possibility. Mmm … this “toy” of yours … it doesn't release any radiation waves, does it? Fat Uncle stares at the suspicious device with a guarded expression. It just emits microwaves in a specific band. It has no destructive power.

Note:

According to quantum theory, the ability of electromagnetic waves to affect molecules depends on their frequency (or wavelength). The higher the frequency (or, the shorter the wavelength), the greater its ability to alter molecular structures.

In particular, as a kind of far-infrared electromagnetic wave, the frequency of the microwave is far from sufficient to change the molecule itself, so an object will merely be heated when exposed to microwave radiation — a property that is exploited in the microwave oven.

It will induce the activation of a certain rare element, and cause it to separate from its original mixed state. Oh … For a moment, Fat Uncle reacts with nothing more than rubbing his balding forehead. Wait … Are you going to use that toy to squeeze or draw something out of this canvas?! It can be understood as such. No, no, no! If I let you do that, wouldn't the painting be ruined?! … Unlikely. Mophead takes out a flashlight from her pocket, and shines it on the canvas from the side, at an angle. … Indeed. Huh? Fat Uncle remains oblivious. Please observe carefully. The young girl explains while maintaining the angle of the flashlight. Do you see? On the surface of the painting, there is a thin film. … Hmm … Protective lacquer? … No, there is no protective lacquer that is able to keep a painting in such a pristine state! Fat Uncle's expression becomes even more confused. On careful inspection, it can be noticed that the film even has a slight metallic sheen! … What is … this? … I have never seen or heard of such a thing! If you permit, we can test it now. Mophead begins cranking the handle of the machine in her arms. … I said that you are not allowed to damage the picture! Fat Uncle suddenly becomes anxious — If we pull some kind of nonsense, you and I will all be deemed sinners against humanity! … You are being overly dramatic. After we're done, this painting … will simply become as fragile as the other “normal” collections. … This substance on the painting is very important to us. To just let it sit here, merely protecting a painting, may be a huge waste of its value. … If you continue to refuse us, our organisation will make use of other options. I don't mean to bring ill tidings … but when that moment comes, I fear that you and your staff will find that you've bitten off more than you can chew. … … Ugh. Little lady, I am not blind to reason. But even if the procedure is “non-destructive” to the painting itself, I believe there is one thing you still need to explain clearly … Once you've extracted that thin film, what value is there in it? From an ethical point of view, why should our art museum allow you to do such a thing? To foretell the fate of humanity. Mophead speaks in a icy-cold voice like never before. … ? ! Before Uncle Manager could recover from his dumbstruck state, Einstein has already aimed the machine at the centre of the canvas. Initiating resonant-form Soulium extraction. Everybody, please cover your ears.