One night later, Ye Qingxuan looked at Charles, who was also disgraced, full of resentment.
There were sixteen explosions in one night. How could such an outrageous thing happen? Moreover, their music theory attainments are so much better than those of other students.
Then it can only be Ciel's fault.
"Well, blame me."
Charles opened his mouth and blew out a plume of explosive white smoke: "During the next test, I will stand in the corner..."
"I think my ears will go deaf if the explosion continues. Let's go to sleep first." Ye Qingxuan yawned, feeling exhausted mentally and physically.
"I've been waiting for your words for two days."
Ciel chuckled and immediately fell to the ground. Soon, snoring began.
Ye Qingxuan sighed, covered him with a dust-proof blanket, and climbed onto the broken sofa filled with parts. He didn't care about whether it was clean or not. He just closed his eyes and fell asleep until he became unconscious.
In the morning, Bai Xi kicked down the door and saw the two people sleeping until it was dark. He curled his lips in boredom, drew a big turtle on each of their faces, and then took Lao Fei out.
Today is the weekly class time.
At noon, Abraham came down and saw that the two people were still asleep. He shook his head and smiled bitterly. After looking at the music written by the two people, he made small modifications in a few places. After leaving a note, he also hurriedly I went out to report to the military headquarters.
In the afternoon, a rare visitor called the music history department.
…
"anyone there?"
Bart was outside the door, knocking patiently. For the third time, there was still no response.
There was silence in the old small building, as if no one was there. He frowned and knocked on the door a little harder. The door creaked... and opened.
"anyone there?"
He cautiously poked his head and took a look. He saw the cracks on the wall and the peeling wall skin in the corner, and frowned: What the hell is this place.
There was still a hint of alcohol in the air, which made Bart's face look even more ugly: Have these guys degenerated into drinking for fun
Musicians need absolute calmness and concentration, drinking is almost suicide...
He pinched his nostrils and walked into the living room, which was empty. He waited for a while, but still no one came. Finally, he became impatient and stood up angrily, feeling that he was wasting time.
Coming here to bow to the Leshi Department was already the limit of his tolerance, but now after spending so long in vain, it was just like a humiliation.
He didn't wait any longer, and pushed straight away to Abraham's study, pulled out a piece of paper and left a note for visiting him another day, as well as the teacher's business card.
"Humph, Music History Department."
Bart snorted coldly, and turned around to leave as if he was sweeping the messy study room for the last time. But after just two steps, his steps stopped and his body froze in place.
As if he finally came to his senses, he turned around in surprise and looked at the pile of manuscripts on the table...
He hesitated on the spot for a long time, and finally plucked up the courage to carefully open the stack of manuscript papers and flip through them quickly.
The more you look at him, the uglier his face becomes.
In the end, he didn't dare to look anymore, so he directly raised the ring on his finger and started recording quickly. After a while, he was still a few shots away when he suddenly heard a movement from the basement.
His fingers trembled, and he quickly restored everything to their original state, picked up the note he left and put it away, carefully erasing the traces of his having been here, and finally quietly opened the door and escaped. Ran away the same way.
Under the hot afternoon sun, Bart ran wildly, stumbling as if he had seen a ghost, muttering to himself: "How is this possible, how is this possible, how is this possible..."
"-How can this be?"
…
…
"How can this be?"
In the office, Ingmar looked at the video recorded by Bart with a livid face and compared it with his manuscript.
Over and over again, over and over again... Every time he looked at it, his face became more and more ugly, until finally he overturned the table like crazy and roared at Bart:
"How is this possible?! How is it possible that I made a mistake?!"
An invisible storm enveloped the room, and all the objects trembled crazily, making noises that were on the verge of breaking, until finally, they fell to the ground one after another.
Bart stood in the corner, silent, not daring to make any sound.
He was only glad that he was from the Apocalypse faction and was not good at destructive power. If it was Yegor who was angry here today, I'm afraid the entire office would have been burned to ashes.
For a long time, until a long time later, Ingmar finally calmed down.
For the last time, he compared his manuscript and turned it page by page. Every time he turned the page, the page was broken, falling apart silently, and scattered on Ingmar's robe, like burning. The ashes after exhaustion.
Until the end, Ingmar seemed to be sitting in the pale ashes, with nothing in his hands, but his face was as pale as bones and ashes.
"It turns out that I really went the wrong way..."
He murmured in a low voice, his hands trembling, veins bursting out on his forehead, and there was a cry in his voice: "Why was I wrong? Why me? Why -"
Bart was stunned. He heard the heartbeat. It was his teacher's heartbeat. It was extremely loud and low, like the sound of a drum.
The sound of the drum was getting faster and faster, pulling him into it, as if he was seeing a rotating starry sky, but the starry sky was trembling crazily and extinguishing one by one.
Bart finally reacted and turned pale.
Heart sound collapse is a precursor to heart sound collapse.
He rushed forward suddenly and shook the teacher's shoulders vigorously to make him wake up, but Ingmar was dumbfounded and did not react at all. At the end, a flash of determination flashed in Bart's eyes, he gritted his teeth, grabbed Ingmar's palm, and suddenly stapled a sharp pen to it.
collapse!
The gas explosion suddenly set off.
His whole body was bounced up by the shock from Ingmar, and he was slapped against the wall. His vision went dark, he spit out a mouthful of blood, and his arm was broken.
The whole office was in a mess, the alarm sounded loudly in the teaching building, and everyone was in a panic, but soon the alarm disappeared without a trace.
Everything in the entire office was pulled back to its original position by invisible forces. The broken vases were repaired, the torn carpets were re-weaved, and the paintings on the walls that had been shattered into powder resurfaced from the dust.
It's like nothing happened.
Only Ingmar sat in his original position, his eyes regained his senses, and his whole body was soaked with cold sweat. Not feeling any pain from his palm being nailed to the table, he indifferently pulled out the pen nailed to the back of his hand. After glancing at Bart, Bart's broken bones were reconnected and his mind regained consciousness.
Until now, he didn't know what had just happened.
"Bart, you are a good student. If it weren't for you, I might really have been beaten by that guy Abraham..."
He gritted his teeth and looked like a ferocious beast as he bandaged his palms with medicine and finally put on a glove to cover up the wound.
Bart was still frightened and stammered a few words in response.
"You told me that when you went to the Department of Music and History, no one discovered you, right?" A trace of determination and ruthlessness flashed in Ingmar's eyes: "Are you sure?"
Bart was stunned for a moment, as if he understood something, his face became paler. Under Ingmar's gaze, he finally nodded vigorously.
"Yeah, no one knows I've been there..."
"very good."
Ingmar suddenly smiled, and the smile on his pale face was full of incongruity and creepy: "Wait a minute, come with me to the Musicians' Guild."
The guess in Bart's mind was finally put to rest, and he looked horrified, "If they find out...will they let it go?"
"You are still too young, Bart. Too young, too naive..."
Ingmar raised the corner of his eyes, his pupils could only contain a hint of pity and gloom:
"-Of course, whoever publishes this kind of thing first belongs to whoever publishes it first."
…
…
Late at night, a carriage stopped in front of the clock shop, and the visitor pushed open the door and entered.
"Mr. Bayer?"
The blond boy drinking tea by the window raised his eyes and showed a look of surprise, "Guests from the Musicians Guild? What a rare visitor. You haven't visited here since you took office. What are you doing tonight? You want to buy something. What is it?"
"No need." Bayer waved his hand slightly and smiled bitterly: "I can't afford Mr. Hermes' things."
"Tsk, don't say that."
Hermes shook his head, "My place is famous for its high quality and low prices. If you look carefully, you can always pick something you like."
"Actually, the reason I took the liberty of coming here this time is to ask Mr. Hermes to help me identify something."
He sat opposite Hermes and slowly pushed a copy of the black folder over: "I think you might know something about this thing."
"oh?"
Hermes raised his eyebrows, "Can't the experts from your association be sure? It's really rare."
Bayer smiled bitterly and shook his head: "Actually, the local association and the scholars in the Holy City are already quarreling over this. Before I left, they were still arguing about whether this thing is a qualified research result."
"Huh? Then let me take a look... "The Voynich Manuscript"? It's been hundreds of years, and you are really persevering. Are you still trying to decipher this thing?"
Hermes opened the folder and quickly flipped through the pages with his palms, scanning the lines, not as if he was reading, but as if he was confirming something. Until the end, his eyes became more and more subtle.
"It's really... interesting! Because the road ahead is dead, did you restore the text from a strange direction? Although you took a deviant path, you returned to the right direction. Let me see who the author is... Ingmar ?”
He frowned: "I've seen this guy before. To be honest, I don't believe he has the courage to overthrow the current theory and start over. Could it be that I made a mistake?"
A hint of joy flashed in Bayer's eyes: "So, are you sure it's true or false?"
"Tsk, of course it's true. Although the last part is obviously nonsense, at least the direction is correct."
Hermes threw the folder away unhappily: "Congratulations, you have found a new direction that can keep talking nonsense for decades. Congratulations. This time, you can pull out that crappy thing again and knock on it. Ring, let’s celebrate. But don’t you get tired of ringing the bell during holidays? Why can’t you change it to a more elegant way?”
"Sir, don't be joking, that's the Sage's Bell, so it must be different, right?"
Bayer said with a smile, "In contrast, the gate of heaven is where God's majesty lies, and naturally it cannot be easily shown to others."
"Don't compare my works with that kind of rags." Hermes spat with disdain, looking extremely vulgar: "Sage's Bell? Bah, it's obviously... not even close."
He spoke those words extremely vaguely, while Bayer on the opposite side pretended not to hear, just put away the manuscript, paid a valuable reward, and then resigned.
Hermes opened the reward pocket with his little finger, glanced at the crystal-like object in it with disgust, and shouted: "Bai Xi!"
"What are you calling me for?"
Bai Xi, who was reciting and copying music scores, raised his head from behind the counter unhappily.
"There is an old saying in the East: When the master has something to do, the disciple will do his duty. If the master doesn't like this thing now, you can take it back and give it to Lao Fei."
He threw those things into Bai Xi's arms, seemed to have thought of something, suddenly woke up, and immediately showed a strange smile.
"Oh my, my terrible power of association is really amazing."
He murmured to himself: "It seems like something interesting is going to happen again?"
"-It's really... looking forward to it!"