This future night is very quiet, and it seems that Nolan is still peaceful. In the deserted gallery, only Jenkins looked up at the hanging portrait of the girl alone. That portrait is protected by a glass frame, which speaks volumes for its importance.
Where the glass frame meets the wall, there is a base-like complex gear structure. Those gears were chilling in the faint moonlight, and Jenkins guessed that this should be an anti-theft measure based on the structure of steam-powered gears.
In the corridor illuminated by the moonlight, the man looked up at the girl in the painting, and the girl in the painting seemed to be looking at the man. For some reason, a feeling of melancholy surged up, and Jenkins shook his head quickly, then went to look for new information.
Although there are no people here at night, Jenkins can still get information. Newspapers were randomly placed in the space of the bench, half pressed by Jenkins' buttocks, the date is in the most conspicuous upper left corner, it is now the spring of 1882.
"This time it's 16 years later."
With that answer, Jenkins held his forehead for a moment to adjust to the headache, then picked up the newspaper.
The front-page headline was a black-and-white photo of a strange middle-aged man in a suit and a ridiculous wig. The title is to celebrate the success of the country's third five-year plan for air pollution control. After a cursory reading of the text, the man in the photo is the Minister of the Kingdom's Ministry of Environment and a member of the House of Lords.
"The third five-year plan... How do you feel that this staged environmental governance bill is so familiar... Could it be that I proposed it?"
He hoped to find his name in this edition, but unfortunately failed. But they found a more strange thing, the "Fidic Tri Kingdom" turned into the "Fidic Tri Empire".
"A country that occupies more than half of the continental area can become an empire... Could it be that the war between Fidiktri and Cheslan ended in our country's overall victory?"
He couldn't get an answer, so he could only continue to flip backwards. But this time the tiredness came so quickly that Jenkins just saw the "Notice of Calendar Changes Regarding the End of the Eighteenth Century (Third Edition)" and passed out.
"What's the situation? The official notice that the era is over? Is this the end of peace?"
This is the first reaction after waking up, but the future he observed is only one of the possible futures, and it is not necessarily a definite future event.
"I really want to throw up."
The physical discomfort is getting worse, and now it feels like stepping into the light gate of a strange world. The sound of chocolate was heard, and the cat was trying to comfort Jenkins by pawing him.
"I'm fine, it'll be over soon."
He said this to his cat, and passed out again, this time extraordinarily fast.
The rumbling thunder and manic rain woke Jenkins up, but the familiar corridor was still there, and the night rain in summer seemed particularly terrifying in the dark room. This time there was no moonlight. Before calling out the monocle, Jenkins could only see the painting on the opposite wall clearly by the occasional lightning.
It's not cats fluttering butterflies, it's not self-portraits, it's not landscape paintings, and it's not Dolores' hanging paintings. What's very interesting is that it's not even a painting, but a note placed in a photo frame.
[Wells Lane, 32B, room 3 on the second floor. Kill him, at least before the end of the third month of 1866!]
The font was slender and familiar, and it took a while to realize that it was Jenkins' own handwriting. The "now" to which he belongs is the third month of 1866, and this note seems to be addressed to him.
"What's going on here?"
He doesn't understand the present situation at all, B-07-1-6233 is observing the uncertain future, and now it seems that someone from the future knows that he will be here at this moment, and "someone" is himself.
"A trap? Or is this really a hint?"
Because of A-10-1-0230 [Parchment from the Future], he is very wary of things that claim to be from the future, especially those that try to give him information about the future.
In my heart, I was more inclined not to believe the note in the picture frame, and closed my eyes to wait for the end of this "travel". Subconsciously glanced to the side, there was actually a note in the empty space of the bench, and it was written in English letters.
When I tried to read it, I realized that it was Chinese pinyin. The specific meaning is:
[That is true.]
"..."
Jenkins really didn't know what to do, he had never heard of B-07-1-6233, and was able to get a hint from his future self.
"This is an uncertain future!"
He told himself again, and then he caught a glimpse of another note under his feet, which was not pinyin, but Chinese written horizontally from the bottom left to the top right:
[I know I'm very suspicious, don't worry, it's true, you will get everything you want.]
"This is… "
Jenkins was still not sure if someone wanted to harm him, but he still firmly wrote down the information on the note in the frame. He closed his eyes and waited for the time to end. He didn't wait too long, and the familiar tiredness made the man fall asleep again.
After this comeback, the physical discomfort has reached its peak. As soon as he opened his eyes, he began to retch. Passers-by looked worriedly and wanted to help, but Jenkins reluctantly waved him away.
Soon the old painter Grant came back with warm water. According to him, Jenkins' complexion became worse, approaching a white paper-like paleness. Now that there is no mirror, Jenkins can't see what the so-called "pale face" is like, but he knows that he really needs to rest.
He rejected the proposal to find a doctor again, and asked the old man to find a vacant carriage. Jenkins knows that his physical condition is not optimistic. After the end of B-07-1-6233, it is best to leave here immediately and find a place to rest.
The fifth crossing happened after 7 minutes and 13 seconds, and after regaining consciousness, Jenkins leaned forward directly from the bench, grabbed the armrest of the chair with one hand, knelt on the ground with one knee, and covered his chest with the other hand , panting heavily, at this moment he felt his lungs were burning.
From the side of the field of vision, the woman's hand stretched out from the other side, gently lifted Jenkins up, and let him sit back on the chair. Those tender white hands were placed on his forehead, and the green breath seeped out from the hands, slowly seeping into Jenkins' head.
"Uncle Jenkins!"