So, how did the situation end up like this … Welt takes a furious sip of cola, while warily watching the Finn, who is carrying shopping bags of all shapes and sizes. The girls have gone to a lingerie store, and the young man had no choice but to pull away with the only other male, and make small talk outside. Yes, the other man — who was about to follow the girls and swagger inside the store himself. Does shopping really ever need a reason? Unperturbed, the short-sleeved man spreads out both hands in a frivolous gesture. Not to mention, the duty-free stores here are indeed cheaper than in London. This guy is really good at carrying bags. Even with his ridiculous posture, still they do not fall to the ground. Can it be that he had frequently played such a role in the past? Isn't his wife some archaeologist who is often away from home? Women are indeed such terrifying creatures. … So, is this the reason that Dr Tesla lives “paycheck to paycheck”?

Note:

(Translator's note: the original Chinese describes Tesla as a member of “月光族”, or “moonlight clan” — someone who spends their entire income every month. It has a different meaning from the English term “Moonlighter”. The Chinese version of this note simply explained the term using the English phrase “living from paycheck to paycheck”).

 You're half-right. To be honest, she has also been indulging in mail-shopping recently, and I've heard she has bought many useless things. … It must be really hard for Dr Einstein to deal with her. Haha, you've got it completely wrong. Huh? Don't you think that things are more fun and interesting in life precisely because of people like Tesla? … Don't look down on the girls. If you're too rigid, you may never find your other half in the future, eh? … Mind your own business. Ho ho, cold and gloomy on the outside, hot and spicy on the inside, how quaint! If you wish to be even more sombre … …? Perhaps in the future you can follow in the footsteps of Humphrey Bogart? I mean, like “Rick Blaine” in “Casablanca”.

Note:

Humphrey Bogart（December 25, 1899 － January 14, 1957）was an American film actor who remained legendary in the film industry for decades after his death.

He was nominated for an Oscar for Best Actor in an outstanding performance in “Casablanca” in 1942. This movie is still considered to be an eternal classic to this day, and his role as “Rick Blaine” has been idolised by Americans.

In 1999, the American Film Institute named him the greatest actor in the 100 years since the birth of film.

 …?? Ah. You haven't seen the film, have you? Perhaps next time we're back at Lab 42, I'll show it to you? … Look, basically, a good man should have a clear idea of his strengths. Mr Gold-rimmed Glasses gestures with an “OK” sign, and rounds off the topic before Welt could get in another word. … … Er, I do have something I've been concerned about for a while now. Welt tries to dispel his negative impression of the Finn, and begins to steer the subject of conversation to one of his own liking. Oh? Is it about the Organisation? Or is it about something we're going to investigate? It seems he won't refuse any topic. Um … I do care about those two issues — But what I wish to ask “you” is neither of those things. You wish to pose a question — specifically to “me”? The look of Mr Gold-rimmed Glasses betrays a hint of surprise. He seems to waver ever so slightly. Um … it's just … that … No need to dilly-dally about. Neither doctor has a boyfriend yet, okay? Nobody asked you that! Since you were saying absolutely nothing, all I could do was guess blindly. Mr Gold-rimmed Glasses shrugs his shoulders in an exaggerated manner. Age? Body measurements? Preferred tastes in fashion, inside and out? Hey! Hehe … Mr Gold-rimmed Glasses lets out a suggestive laugh. I think it's best to wait for them to give you the answers themselves, ya? Hey!! Please don't show me that expression. I'm not poking fun at you on purpose, I simply don't know the answers myself. But, you see, with such private and personal details, if by any chance you ask them without thinking it through … Finn makes a “beheading” gesture while keeping his grip on the paper bags. … You're nuts. You don't say. But when I met my future wife for the first time, I stupidly asked her a question — “Isn't it a bit silly for you to still be wearing bloomers at your age?” — And then I was beaten to a pulp. That was quite an intense and healthy beating I tell you. Ha ha ha ha. … No one else is responsible for your own madness but yourself! But to be honest … if some day you meet a thirty-year-old girl who still enjoys wearing bloomers, don't give up on this opportunity of a lifetime. … I mean it. If she happens to be a Finn, especially one who likes “Ievan Polkka”, you can even invite her to a sauna …

Note:

“Ievan Polkka” is a famous folk song in Finland, that describes the theme of a young man and woman breaking away with feudal tradition and courageously pursuing love.

A well-known adaptation of this song is the “Leek Song” sung by Hatsune Miku.

 …? By the way, my full name is Elias Nokianvirtanen — an authentic Finn. …?? Traditionally, everyone in a sauna room has to be completely frank and “open” with each other — you get what I mean? …??? … Why do I feel like you're desperately promoting “saunas” to me just now? Oh? I thought, since it's a question you wanted to ask me specifically, it must be related to something I'm very familiar with. … Give me a break, I barely know or want to know anything about this “sauna” business of yours! Oh? Isn't it the only cultural export from my beloved Finland that has gained worldwide popularity?

Note:

Sauna is the quintessence of Finnish national culture.

It is estimated that there are about two million saunas in Finland — on average, every three Finns own one.

P.S.

In ancient times, saunas were gender-neutral.

 Well, the questions I want to ask have nothing to do with Finland! As a result, when the two doctors finally emerged from the lingerie store, Welt still had not yet enquired about any of their personal hobbies or habits. When the group finally board the flight to Chicago, Einstein had already changed into a set of newly-purchased clothes. A furred shawl coat resembling a ferret, and an overflowing dress layered tier upon tier, resembling a cream cake — it is said to be a Victorian-era débutante dress. It is difficult to describe, but the dress worn on her body gives off a strange and incongruous vibe. Especially given that she is now sleeping, reclined on a seat with that book about Riemann plastered upside-down on her face. Needless to say, this could have only been the result of Tesla's personal fashion sense. Also needless to say, this could have only been the result of Tesla's own wallet. And finally, it goes without saying that people like Tesla could never be caught reading professional or technical literature on an airplane. Let's play cards! The fashionable red-haired twintails announces. Why doesn't she wear that doll-like dress herself? Three people is a bit awkward though. It seems that the Finn has already started to seriously weigh up their options. Three missing one — Mr Gold-rimmed Glasses is definitely the type who likes to play bridge. Nothing awkward at all! Since we're already in America, how can we not play Texas Hold'em? Ah, Texas Hold'em poker … But do we have enough loose change? Stop speaking nonsense, Finn! Don't we have this? The redhaired twintails howls loudly, with ill regard for the other passengers, and pulls out that box of chocolates from Einstein’s bag. Pooling chocolate balls and coins together as gambling chips. You really are a child. Did you know, once upon a time, chocolate was considered as precious as gold. As early as the time of the Aztec Empire, cocoa beans had already become an important strategic resource, being used as currency … Oh … … and after the landings at Normandy, the chocolate rationed to the US soldiers became something of a “hard currency” on the Western Front — — Everything you could imagine could be bought with chocolate! Um … … Modern chocolate is produced by some kind of special crystallisation technology, which can preserve its hardness and taste at the same time. That is why chocolate, once melted, will taste worse when it is refrozen. It fundamentally changes everything at the molecular level! Oh … … Anyway, we should be thankful for today's industrial civilisation, for making it possible for us to follow our hearts' desires, and eat as heartily as we please. Amen. Excuse me … Yes, Assistant Welt, what is your question? You have permission to ask. This “Texas Hold'em” you mentioned, I don't know how to play it. … What's the matter? It's not that hard, you'll catch on as you play. Um … Gosh, have you never heard of “fake it till you make it”? How can you give such a long-winded explanation of the origins of chocolate, yet when it comes to … Welt mumbles at a volume only he himself can hear. What? Do you harbour some dissatisfaction with me, a doctor? No, no, I wouldn't dare. It's not real gambling after all. Even if it were a real gamble, I would have nothing to lose anyway. As he reaches this line of thought, Welt decides to harden his resolve and bite the bullet. … Fold. Fold. W-w-w-wait! Tesla fiercely snatches the two cards from the top of the discard pile, and forcibly shoves them back into Welt's hand. No fold! Um … Why? No particular reason! Just NO CONSECUTIVE FOLDS! But … Hmph, how can you be so “tight” with a beginner's hand? You're only playing when you see a face card or a pair! Otherwise you just “pass”-“pass”-“pass” like you're braindead! How is that any fun at all?! Assistant Welt, do you know what the biggest problem with gambling is? Er … Losing money? Welt looks at the empty spot that is the depleted earnings of the young doctor. No! No, no … for people like you, it's caring too much about your winnings, and losing all sense of fun with the game itself! Look at you, always so conservative, always hesitating, always cowering, always stuttering! Are you even a man, you … God does not play dice. A familiar inorganic voice transmits from beneath that Riemann book. It seems that Tesla's loud voice has finally stirred Einstein from her dreams. … Y-you, you're awake. Even without looking at Tesla, Welt can still feel the blush on her face. Don't worry. The upside-down Riemann is casually tossed to a corner. I will join as well. Eh? Chocolate. The girl, whose hair looks even more messy than before, ignores the others' astonishment, and reaches out with her hand. Twin-tails snatches several “gambling chips” from the two gentlemen, and hands them to her. Just then … Didn't you say, “God does not play dice”, or something?… Welt, you are indeed correct. The girl quickly strips off the wrapping paper from one piece of chocolate — God does not play dice. But God does eat chocolate. By the time the airplane finally landed in Billings, Montana, the sun had already set for a while. In fact, if it weren't for the difference in timezone and location, they should probably see a bright and splendid morning sun hovering above London right now. Well, if the London haze isn't so heavy this time round. Billings is a small city, and coupled with the fact that it is currently off-season for tourism, there seem to be barely any people in the otherwise large terminal. But, perhaps because of this, once someone starts up a greeting or says hello, it is clearly audible at a distance of a hundred metres or more. Einstein! Tesla! A tall lithe woman with waist-length hair greets them loudly from a distance. Next to the “sisterly” woman is a young girl dressed in a down jacket, with a single corkscrew ponytail and an expressionless face, waving her hand in a perfunctory excuse for a greeting. Tsk. Sure enough, the old hag is also here. Tesla is biting on her nails with some degree of resentment. That tall woman is Professor Planck, my doctoral supervisor, and the nominal head of the North American branch. It seems that the other girl must be Schrödinger, the one who sent the mysterious letter — she seems to be about the same age as Tesla. Is she also a doctor? Also, what does “nominal” mean? Can it be that there is some other “boss behind the curtain”? Hey hey hey, my Baby Lieserl is so cute in that dress! You've grown a little taller, ja? While Welt is still in the middle of reflecting on Einstein's words, the girl is suddenly pulled by Professor Planck into a tight embrace. Perhaps because her face is suddenly buried deep within the considerable bosom of the other woman, Mophead lets out a sad noise that sounds much like she is being smothered or suffocated. …?!!!! It's unfortunately very cold in Montana. My little Lieblings, have you brought enough warm clothing? … Hmph, you don't need to remind me. Tesla gives Plank a sour look. As for you, aren't you afraid of murdering your most beloved student, even as we speak … Ara ara, meine Güte, one is inclined to believe that Baby Lieserl is quite enjoying herself … The long-haired sister relaxes her arms ever so slightly, and as Einstein's forehead squeezes out from her bosom, she gives her a light kiss. AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tesla blows her top, exploding in a fiery rage. What's wrong? Aren't we all girls? The Big Sister throws a wink at the girl wrapped in her left arm, while bringing her right index finger to her lips. Cough cough … The poor Mophead can only give a muted response, as she has not yet recovered from the shock of the assault. Oh dearie me … The Finn smiles as usual, but Welt can now clearly read that his utterance of shock was closer in meaning to “this scene happened exactly the way I had expected it to”. Greetings to the two of you. I am Dr Elias Nokianvirtanen, a scholar in ancient manuscripts. This is Welt Joyce, our research assistant. Ah, and I'm sure Dr Tesla needs no formal introduction, am I right? It turns out that this person is also a doctor … It looks like it's really hard to find a proper job these days. An expert in ancient writing … that will certainly be most helpful to us. Professor Planck finally releases poor Einstein from her grip. She takes a long, seemingly-earnest look up and down at the Finn, but then her eyes turn to rest upon Welt. Research assistant …? Uh … Nominally-speaking, yes. Being scrutinised with an unnerving gaze by the strange older woman, Welt felt a chill run down his back. The specific details involve a confidentiality agreement with the European branch. Professor, you need not bother to ask. A thousand thanks to you, Einstein! You're my guardian angel! Long live Einstein!! Really … Even when the North American branch always tells you everything we know, without reservations? It is not clear if she is trying to tease her student, but the Sisterly Professor appears to be deliberately putting on an anxious and sullen expression. Well then … Teacher, your three measurements, and your age, please? Neither does Miss Mophead pull back on her punches. 94, 62, 92 — — 17 years old, 17 years ago. Einstein's finally learned to care about her teacher's wellbeing ~ So happy ~~ ❤ Sisterly Professor proudly makes a heart gesture with her hands. … … … … Ara … Did I say something strange? Surely You're Joking, Miss Planck.

Note:

“Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!” is an informal autobiography of Nobel Laureate and physicist Richard Feynman, published in 1984.

Its sequel, published in 1988, is titled “What Do You Care What Other People Think?”

 I say … Amidst the awkward atmosphere, it is Schrödinger, the only person who had not uttered a word before, who breaks the silence. Let us first decide what to eat for dinner, then we can continue our conversation. With a poker face, she waves her right hand like a Japanese Fortune Cat, motioning them forward. What is this? In a tavern near the airport, Twintails blinks at a plate of fried meatballs on the dining table. Rocky Mountain oysters. The mischievous Big Sister introduces them with a smile. … For some reason, the girl with the single corkscrew ponytail sighs helplessly. The Professor, she prefers to eat these. But I don't know if you lot can ever get used to them. Aren't these just oysters … It's not something I haven't already had before. That said, these do seem a little strange. Twintails takes a fork, prods disapprovingly at a piece, then carefully places it in her mouth as though she were eating dessert. Well … Uh … Although she had already felt something fishy when her fork pierced the meatball, it was only after it entered her mouth that she really began to feel her heart thump and palpitate with anxiety. The rubbery elastic texture is completely unlike the rich, complex flavour she'd expect from good seafood … This is definitely not some “oyster” — But then it is also unlike any other chicken, beef, liver, or heart she had ever tasted — so what the hell is this? The meatballs aren't exactly “unpalatable”, but even then, doubt begins to etch itself onto Dr Tesla's face. The “Rocky Mountain oyster” is an affectionate nickname. After seeing that she had swallowed the meatball completely, Professor Planck begins to explain without a moment's hesitation. As you see, this area is mountainous. During a time when technology for food preservation wasn't that well-developed, there was no way for the cowboys here to eat real oysters. So these morsels, that people from a coastal region would otherwise rarely ever eat — they decided to call them “oysters” — half out of consolation, half out of amusement. In everyday life, we have a lot of names for these things; however, if we want to be accurate … In a biological sense, we'd call them “testicles”. What? Twintails simply cannot believe her ears. Testicles. Professor Planck repeats with a smile. These are testicles taken from young bulls. At the same table, Einstein and Schrödinger shrug helplessly. Welt and the Finn both hold riveted gazes at the forks in their hands, wondering what to do with the “fried meatballs” that had been hovering so closely to their gaping mouths. Indeed, as for poor Tesla — — Her face has turned completely green. Quite literally. Within the confines of a tavern, it is easy for people to ignore any “change” occurring in the outside world — in every sense of that term. By the time Welt and his party had eaten and drunk to their hearts' content, settled their bills and checked out, snow was already falling outside, having begun some time prior. There is not a trace of moonlight in the night sky — instead, snowflakes swirl and float down gently under the tangerine street lights, reflecting the shimmering brilliance of the starry sky, as if it were all some illusory dream. Carrying a drunk-as-a-skunk Tesla on his back, Welt laboriously lifts his head, and looks up at the night sky. So, this is snow … I don't remember seeing it myself … and I don't know why, yet I feel a sense of nostalgia. Déjà vu. Einstein opens up an umbrella and falls into step beside him. Erhm … Pardon? A hallucinatory memory. I don't think you've ever seen snow before. It may just be that your hippocampus is overstimulated at this moment.

Note:

Déjà vu is a French phrase that literally means “already seen”. It refers to a common physiological phenomenon where a person sees a scene for the first time in a conscious state, but feels like they have already seen the exact same situation a second time.

(Translator's note: the Chinese note further explains the etymology of the Chinese and English terms for the phenomenon — In Chinese, the term is borrowed from the Japanese translation, which is generally translated as “repeated sensation” (既视感), using the same characters as the Japanese Kanji (既視感), or “hallucinatory memory” (幻觉记忆); in English, it is directly copied from the French déjà vu.)

 Um … There are times the human brain sometimes deceives itself. But … Your emotions may be sincere, but their origins may be fake. … Sorry, it seems I've ruined the moment. No … I sort of like it when someone says something aimlessly like that, so casually and without a care in the world. At least, it's more interesting than not saying a word. Ah, it seems you two have quite a good relationship. The long-haired Big sister had managed to catch up from behind some time ago, without anyone noticing. Professor, elders shouldn't interrupt when young people are talking to each other. Boo hoo hoo … Baby Lieserl is too cruel! Planck weeps in a feigned and exaggerated manner. Now Big Sister is truly heartbroken! I had even planned to tell you some good news! Professor, it is silly to pretend to be cute with less-than-wholesome intentions. Hmph, I am earnestly trying to be kind! … All of you must be prepared for nighttime raids! The twice-seventeen-year-old girl suddenly puts on a pose, much like a model in an advertisement, and mimes a gesture of “firing shots at their chests”. Huh?! The poor young man is clearly taken aback by the words “nighttime raid”. … Einstein has no particular interest in stargazing. With this statement, Mophead nails the true meaning of the so-called “nighttime raid”. The two women seem to be familiar with each other's mannerisms, as if they were family. Uh huh? When you get back to downtown London, you won't be able to see the stars even if you want to, oo ~~ … Hmm. Hmm-ing and ha-ing, are you torn between two minds? The long-haired Big Sister wags her index finger provocatively. But you'll have to sleep well tonight — everyone needs to get up early tomorrow to travel to the site. So pedantic. You're the one who raised the idea of a “Nighttime Raid” in the first place. Of course, us elders always tend to be a bit more pedantic. Suddenly, for some reason, Planck raises her head, gazing over Einstein's head, to stare at Welt. Don't you agree? Uh … huh? Lieserl is such a lovely girl — as an older brother you should not bully her, ja? H-h-hey — brother? Ara ara, guess I was wrong … Long-haired Big Sister responds pretentiously, as though she had already anticipated his response. Fair enough, in that case, a pet perhaps? P-pet? What is this all about?! I mean it literally. If I had to exaggerate a little … A slave? A living toy? … That's preposterous! Hey, as long as you have a good master, you can undoubtedly live carefree and without worry, pampered like a prince — what's wrong with that? … Schrödinger had discreetly squeezed herself within their company, and now gazes disdainfully, with an unremitting ice-cold stare, at the pretentious expression on Plank's face. Teacher, I have something to say, but I don't know whether I should say it or not. … Here comes my wet blanket Schrödinger, who can only ever speak ill of things! Thank you for your compliment, Teacher — — but I think, for you to say those things in a country whose foundations were rebuilt by Lincoln, it is grossly inappropriate. … I knew there was never going to be any fun coming from your mouth! Hmph!