Mr. Holland’s tutoring sessions hadn’t stopped since the Cicero Cup, and they had long since moved far beyond the high school curriculum.
Mr. Holland used to teach Richard about Cicero, Tacitus, and Suetonius.
Early on, when Richard could recite *Catiline’s Speech* in its entirety, the bald, middle-aged man would even pound the table twice in approval.
He didn’t do that anymore.
Now, Mr. Holland was teaching him the comedies of Plautus.
The slang, the double entendres, the stage rhythms hidden within Plautus’s comedies... this was material many universities didn’t cover until their undergraduate courses.
After listening, Mr. Holland had Richard write a piece of dialogue himself, using Plautus’s rhythmic style.
When he finished, he marked two spots on the dialogue sheet. Both marks were on the lines Richard himself had been most proud of.
The top of his head was completely bald, reflecting the yellow light of the office lamp.
He took a small copper pot from his drawer and poured himself a glass of water.
"Richard."
"Yes, sir."
"Last year, after you returned from the Imperial Capital, I had a private conversation with your father, Mr. Rogers."
"I told him that if you could maintain this momentum, you should be able to get into a good university in the Imperial Capital."
"What did my father say then?" Richard asked, a little curious.
"He asked me if you could get into Imperial University."
"I said, ’There’s a chance,’ but that’s all it was—a chance."
Mr. Holland took a sip of water.
"Imperial University selects students from across the entire country every year. Thousands upon thousands in each class, and that’s after an initial screening of top students."
"Forget Brighton—out of all the high schools in the entire Northern Industrial District, very few students get in each year."
"Your foundation was weak back then. Taking second place in the Cicero Cup was already a pleasant surprise."
"But the Cicero Cup is just the Cicero Cup."
"Yes, my aunt also said it was just the first hurdle," Richard said. He understood this himself.
"The preparatory program for the Imperial University Classics Department only accepts a few dozen students each year, which is why I only dared to say ’there’s a chance’ back then."
Mr. Holland placed the glass back on the desk.
"But after these past six months, I can be a bit more confident in my assessment."
"...Sir, you have that much confidence in me?"
Richard was certainly confident in himself, but being praised like this by his teacher still made him a little embarrassed.
"If I say you can get in, you can get in."
There wasn’t the slightest hint of exaggeration in Mr. Holland’s voice.
"The Plautus I’m teaching you now is second-year material for the Imperial University prep program."
"By the time the summer session begins, I’ll have you on to undergraduate-level content."
He pushed the dialogue sheet with the two marks back to him.
"Revise these two spots when you get back."
"Yes, sir."
......
Winterworth’s call came quickly. There was news in less than two weeks.
After school, Richard took a detour to the Branch Office. The door on the third floor was ajar.
The Inspector pushed a pine wood box to the edge of the desk, then placed a smaller, palm-sized velvet box next to it.
"Inside are the items you had custom-made and the materials you applied for, respectively."
"Things have been busy over in Manchester City lately. The craftsman charged you an extra five pounds for the work. I had the accountant put the rest on a tab for now."
Richard opened the pine box first. Three needles lay in the folds of the padded cloth.
The enamel on the body of the teeth had been polished away, revealing their true nature, something between bone and jade.
The grips were made into flat, triangular prisms, fitting perfectly between the fingers to prevent slipping during a Piercing Needle technique.
Near the grip, the root of the tooth was inlaid with a silver thread that formed two rings along the guidance Inscription.
The craftsman hadn’t cut any corners on the guidance Inscription.
Richard picked one of them up, careful not to touch the shaft.
Even detached from its original body, the canine tooth of a Soul-Devouring Beast still radiated its intent to "bite" on the Ether Layer.
Grasping it with a bare hand wouldn’t leave an immediate wound, but after half a month, the hand would grow inexplicably cold. Half a year later, you wouldn’t be able to straighten your fingers.
He then opened the velvet box. A pocket watch lay quietly inside, looking no different from any other.
At first, Richard didn’t see anything special about it.
He focused his Spiritual Vision on it, reading it layer by layer from the outside of the casing.
The inner wall of the silver casing was inlaid with two Shadow Eater Scales that had been cut into the shape of flower petals. Their convex sides faced outward, and a piece of Ether-conductive medium was placed between them as a catalytic material.
"Go on, try it," Winterworth gestured.
Richard pressed the button. CLICK.
Light shot out from the concentric circles on the watch’s face. It had a faint, cold-blue tint, and the edges of the shadows it cast on the desk were exceptionally sharp.
Winterworth explained briefly,
"The scales don’t emit light on their own. They need that little bit of Ether you input to act as a Fuse before they can release the light."
At this point, the Inspector’s expression turned serious.
"Because we’re in a special period, a few days ago, the higher-ups issued an internal notice. They’re going to investigate all private orders placed by non-staff personnel through official channels."
’This "special period" must mean a state of readiness for war,’ Richard thought, his heart sinking.
"My orders... are there any problems with them?"
"Yours are fine. The materials were all registered on the public ledger, and the payments were covered by your private subsidy."
Winterworth folded the internal notice and stuffed it into a drawer.
"But next time you want something made, I’ll have to ask more questions up the chain of command."
Richard made a mental note of this and nodded solemnly.
Before going home, he also made a stop at the Clement Antiques Store.
The old man was wearing a monocle and polishing a pewter candlestick in front of a glass counter.
Hearing the bell jingle, he looked up. Seeing who it was, he tossed the polishing cloth over his shoulder.
"Things haven’t been peaceful lately," Old Clement said bluntly.
"The auction house line has completely dried up. The owners had a meeting this year and mentioned ’downsizing’."
"Downsizing?"
"The entire pipeline for unsold ’Category II’ items has been cut."
The old man sighed. "It’ll be hard for you to expect anything to come through me from now on."
Richard was a little disappointed but didn’t let it show.
"It’s all right, Mr. Clement."
"Could you write down the names, ages, and hobbies of your two grandsons for me?"
The old man was taken aback for a moment.
"What’s this for?"
"If I ever find some new channels, I’ll keep an eye out for them."
Clement took off his monocle and wiped it again and again on his apron.
He said nothing more, just pulled a piece of kraft paper from under a drawer, picked up a pen, and wrote two lines. He folded it and handed it over.
Richard took it and tucked it into his inner pocket.
"This old man can help you one last time."
Clement picked up the polishing cloth again.
"Since the higher-ups are tightening their grip, some people from within the auction house system are going to break away and open their own private shops.
A whole nest of them will pop up around the North District in a few months."
"They’ll be selling a mix of real and fake items. Among the real antiques, a good number will be stolen goods with shady origins."
The old man polished the glass counter until it shone.
"Although most of it will be fakes, you’ve always had a good eye, kid. You’re sure to profit if you go digging through those shops."
Richard’s eyes lit up. "Then I’ll go take a look once they open."
Clement waved his hand dismissively.
"The auction house channels are a no-go, but I’ll go visit some of my old buddies in a bit. If I hear anything, I’ll give you a call."
"Thank you very much." Richard waved goodbye to the old man.
After returning home from Clement’s, he entered the house to find his sister’s gingerbread "Mr. Rabbit (Version 6)" already on the table.
The gingerbread rabbit had a round belly, and its frosting-drawn eyes were finally not crooked all the way back to its ears.
"Look! I used half a spoonful less sugar in this version!" Evelyn showed it off proudly. "It didn’t collapse!"
"It even has a bit of a gaze." Richard picked one up and popped it into his mouth. "...A cross-eyed one."
"It’s not cross-eyed! It’s called gazing into the distance!"
Richard finished off two members of the Mr. Rabbit family and went up to his room.
The things he’d gotten today would keep him busy practicing for several days.
He first put away the pocket watch, then laid the three Tooth Needles out on his desk.
He was already well-practiced in the art of the Moon Nail.
But with a new medium, there would be an adjustment period.
For the first Tooth Needle, he used his usual process of setting the needle, performing Breath Introduction, and executing the Piercing Needle.
The needle was held steadily between his fingers. The two silver rings on its shaft were waiting for him to push the Ether into them.
Following his usual rhythm, he pushed Ether from the Throne of the Sun to the palm of his hand during the third cycle of his Quadruple Breathing.
The moment the Ether entered the tooth’s shaft, there was a soft CLICK.
The shaft "bit" down on the inflowing Ether for a moment before releasing it along the guidance Inscription.
The color of the condensed Moon Nail had changed.
When he formed it with a Silver Needle, it was white with a hint of blue.
The one formed by this needle had a shade of gray floating beneath the white light.
Richard held the cluster of the Moon Nail steady at the tip of the tooth and compressed it for another three Breaths.
The resulting cluster of needles was nearly twice as large as usual.
He raised his hand and thrust the Tooth Needle into the spine of an old Latin textbook on the wall across from his desk.
The Tooth Needle made no sound as it went in.
The old textbook was pierced with ease, the paper around the spine trembling.
Richard walked over and pulled the Tooth Needle out, only to find that it had even pierced a small hole in the wall. The wind was whistling in from outside.
He compared this effect to his previous attempts with the Silver Needle and found the erosion efficiency had nearly doubled.
’And that’s just against an inert object with no Ether. If this were to land on an Evil Being...’
He did a quick calculation and realized that a Moon Nail cast with the Soul-Devouring Beast tooth already had an attack power exceeding a Single-Ring Enchanted Bullet.
Richard sat back down at his desk and held the Tooth Needle between his fingers again.
The conventional Casting of a Moon Nail, from setting the needle to piercing, involved a total of three actions.
Joining the fingers to hold the needle, using one’s Breath to push the Ether, and launching it with the Piercing Needle technique.
The bottleneck in this process was the launch.
After the Ether condensed into a cluster of needles, it had to be thrown by hand.
The speed of a manual throw was far slower than the conduction speed of Ether itself.
Holding it with three fingers becomes holding it with two, and two fingers become one.
One finger eventually becomes pure Ether supporting the tip of the tooth, allowing the shaft to hover slightly above the palm.
Changing the "piercing" action of the Piercing Needle from a flick of the wrist to an "expulsion" of Ether.
The Nemesis *Book of the Moon Nail* recorded an advanced form called a "purely Perception-level probe."
It involved completely removing the physical medium of the Moon Nail, allowing the Ether itself to condense into a single Nail to pierce a wall and probe the other side.
Besides that, there were also techniques like Moon Blade Rain, Moon Chain, and so on.
And the basic requirement to achieve these advanced forms was reaching the "one-finger hold."
Richard reached out and pressed the button on his pocket watch.
CLICK.
Light spilled out from the center of the concentric circles, instantly casting the shadow of the Tooth Needle from the desk onto the wall.

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