Back home, Richard laid the two items out on his desk.
He first picked up the Evil Eye Talisman.
The blue eyeball was so old it was nearly blind, but it still held a final dreg of Ether.
Richard held it in his hand, and that wisp of Ether flowed into his panel, extremely slowly.
[Available Points] began to climb from 2.02.
It was a defective product, indeed. The talisman’s reserves weren’t large; they bottomed out when the number climbed to 2.39.
Only when the wisp of Ether was completely cut off did Richard put the talisman down.
Now that it was drained dry, the eye that "looked back" was probably truly blind.
Next was the Naga Arm Ring.
This one was thoroughly saturated, and the Ether seeped out quickly.
But its own Ether reserves weren’t that large either. If it had possessed a torrent of Ether visible to the naked eye, it probably would have been intercepted by the auction house long ago.
When it reached 2.73, that wisp of Ether also faded.
Richard stopped, not draining it completely.
[Available Points: 2.73]
The two defective items contributed a total of 0.71. That was decent—better than nothing.
The progress bar for [Sleep] Lv. 2 was already over ninety percent full; [Eating] Lv. 2 was about the same.
It looked like both could be maxed out next week, unlocking the traits [Wild Sleep] and [Filtering].
[Perception] had seen the most ferocious growth recently.
Over the past six months, between the winter break internship, following the Expert from the Unyielding Pit, and dismantling Seals with Professor Mortimer, just "seeing" and "hearing" alone had fed the progress of [Perception] at a rapid pace.
At this rate, it seemed poised to max out Level 2 even before [Walking].
Richard reckoned that [Perception] might even reach Level 3 before the summer research program in June.
’Once I’m in the Imperial Capital, I’ll need to find a way to get my hands on one or two more Marvels.’
’If I have any spare Points, I plan to expand [Spiritual Appearance] while I’m at it.’
The ten points of pure Ether from [Spiritual Appearance] were the most stable source for Nurturing the Sphinx Lamp;
When full, it could also serve as an emergency reserve during fieldwork.
Having used it for the past six months, he had come to realize just how precious these ten points of pure Ether were.
However, he didn’t plan on using his current available points for that just yet.
Expanding [Spiritual Appearance] would have to wait until several other Skills were ready for advancement. Its priority was relatively low.
Richard put the two Marvels away in a drawer.
The aging eye of the Evil Eye Talisman, the sweating, coiled snake of the Naga Arm Ring—in the future, they could both become research materials for him.
’Once my Divination improves, perhaps I can restore the "eye for an eye" reflective structure from the talisman.’
Outside, the sky had turned gloomy again. A few raindrops pattered against the windowpane.
Richard blew out the gas lamp.
On the third Saturday of May, Richard went to the Dawn family’s home to tutor Tom for the last time.
When he arrived, Tom was already waiting in the study.
The boy sat at the desk, his back ramrod straight.
Two assignments were laid out on the desk, the handwriting incomparably neater than it had been six months ago.
"Sir, look." Tom pushed the notebook toward him, his chest puffed out with pride.
"I’ve memorized all the third declension verb conjugations.
amo, amas, amat... all the way to amant. I’ve memorized all three tenses."
Richard scanned the page and found no mistakes.
After finishing today’s lesson, he began to explain his purpose for being there.
"Tom, starting tomorrow, I’m afraid I won’t be able to tutor you anymore."
Tom looked up, his face full of confusion.
"...Why?"
"I’m going to the Imperial Capital," Richard replied. "To attend university."
"Then... after you finish university, will you come back?"
Richard didn’t answer.
Imperial University’s preparatory program, undergraduate, and graduate studies, then becoming a teaching assistant, a lecturer... The path his aunt had taken would require at least six years to complete.
And beyond that, he had an even longer, more endless path to walk behind the Curtain.
’Even if I do return to Brighton in the future, I probably won’t stay for long.’
"I don’t know." He decided to tell the truth. "Maybe, maybe not."
Tom clutched the notebook tightly in his hands.
"Then... who’s going to teach me Latin?"
"Lady Dawn will hire another tutor for you."
"I don’t want another tutor," the boy said, his voice muffled.
"Other tutors just make me memorize declension tables, and punish me with writing lines if I can’t. Only you..."
He didn’t finish his sentence, lowering his head.
Richard looked at the twelve-year-old child.
Six months ago, Tom was a little hellion who ran barefoot on the carpets, hid a slingshot behind his back, and had driven away three previous tutors.
Six months later, he sat at his desk, getting his first taste of disappointment over the fact that his teacher was leaving.
After the final lesson, the Dawn family prepared a farewell dinner to thank the teacher.
The spread was lavish.
Roast leg of lamb, creamy soup, a whole glistening trout, and roasted potatoes with thyme, made by Lady Dawn herself.
The elusive Mr. Dawn, who had been rarely seen these past six months, was also present. They exchanged a few pleasantries, and that was that.
Tom sat next to Richard, no longer boisterous, quietly picking at the food on his plate.
Richard’s [Eating] Skill was at Lv. 2, allowing him to savor even the blandest of foods.
This table of exquisite dishes whetted his appetite even more.
Lady Dawn watched him go for plate after plate, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothing out in a smile.
"A good appetite is a blessing," she said, serving Richard a large piece of trout.
"I’ve seen you fill out noticeably in the past six months. When you first came, you were as thin as a beanpole."
"Your family’s food is nourishing," Richard replied honestly.
Halfway through the meal, Tom suddenly raised his fork and asked:
"Sir, when you get to the Imperial Capital, will you still be able to eat such good food?"
"The food in the Imperial Capital is fancier."
Richard recalled the dinner banquet at Ashford Mansion.
"The names are all longer. Things like ’Provence Herb Slow-Cooked Beef Brisket with a Parmesan Crisp Topping’."
"That long?" Tom’s eyes widened.
"The longer the name, the more expensive it is," Richard said with a straight face. "So expensive you can’t even say the whole name."
Lady Dawn sputtered with laughter.
After the meal, a servant cleared the table.
Mr. Dawn asked Richard to stay behind in the dining room.
He was a burly, middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard.
The man poured two glasses of port, one for himself and one for Richard, and pushed a glass toward him.
"Have a taste."
"It’s this year’s new stock. You’re still young, so just a sip will do."
Richard raised the glass and took a small sip, not drinking any more.
"This boy, Tom." Mr. Dawn leaned back in his chair.
"My wife and I have worried ourselves sick over him. We went through three tutors who all quit in frustration. I was about ready to give up."
"You came and set him on the right path in just six months. For that, I truly have to thank you."
"Tom is smart on his own."
Mr. Dawn waved his hand dismissively.
"There are plenty of smart kids, but few tutors who can get a smart kid to sit still."
He took a sip of his wine and got to the point.
"I heard from Charlotte that you’ll be going to the Imperial Capital this fall for the university preparatory program."
"Yes."
"Proper High-level Academies are very expensive," Mr. Dawn said, looking at him.
"Tuition, lodging, books, clothes... A place like the Imperial Capital costs money at every turn."
"Your family’s situation, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, will likely be strained."
Richard didn’t respond. He didn’t know where Mr. Dawn was leading.
"I have a proposal," Mr. Dawn said, setting his glass down.
"Our family is willing to sponsor your education, from the preparatory program all the way through graduate school. I’ll cover all expenses."
The hand Richard had on his glass froze.
"Mr. Dawn, that..."
"Let me finish first," Mr. Dawn said, holding up a hand to stop him.
"There’s no such thing as a free lunch. I won’t beat around the bush—sponsoring you would certainly come with conditions."
"What conditions?"
Mr. Dawn leaned forward.
"Besides running freight, I’m also in the paper business myself—Dawn Paper Industry," he said, introducing his enterprise.
"I also have a few friends under me who all own factories and run businesses."
"I’d like to ask you to use that pen of yours to ’say a few good words’ for us in the future."
Richard listened in silence.
"A well-written essay, a memorable piece of text."
"That’s more effective than me spending a thousand pounds on an advertisement."
"That article you wrote about the Pier laborers, I’ve read it several times."
"My friends who own factories read it too, and it sent a shiver down their spines."
He pointed at Richard.
"That’s real talent. I’m willing to pay for that pen of yours in the future."
The dining room was quiet for a moment. A log in the fireplace CRACKLED.
Richard weighed the proposal in his mind.
The Dawn family was not short on money. Sponsoring his education would be a drop in the ocean for them.
The price would be one "good word" after another from him in the future.
’From a businessman’s perspective, it’s a very good deal.’
"So, what do you think of my proposal?"
Richard set down his glass.
"Mr. Dawn, I appreciate your kind offer. But I cannot accept this money."
The smile on Mr. Dawn’s face didn’t change. "Why?"
"There are several reasons," Richard said, listing them one by one.
"Tom is an interesting kid, Charlotte is straightforward, and you and Lady Dawn have been very generous to me."
"I’ve enjoyed coming here to teach these past six months. I don’t want money to turn this friendship into a purely professional relationship."
Mr. Dawn said nothing, listening quietly.
"Besides, I’m not short on money right now," Richard continued.
"I still have some of the prize money from the Cicero Cup, and I’ve also saved up some from tutoring fees and article payments."
"The expenses in the Imperial Capital may be high, but my maternal grandfather can also support me."
"These are all minor points. The most important is the third one."
"Go on."
Richard looked the man in the eyes:
"You said it yourself, my article about the laborers sent a shiver down people’s spines."
"Why does it do that? Because it didn’t speak for anyone, nor did it hide anything for anyone."
"It simply laid out the facts as they were."
"A pen, once it has been bought."
"Is no longer a ’signboard’, nor is it a ’target’."
"It’s just a tool. And when a tool is used up, it gets thrown away."
Richard recalled the words Lady Dawn had spoken to him a few days ago and deftly used them.
"Lady Dawn told me last time."
"When it comes to writing, you either stop completely or you keep writing forever. Stopping in the middle is the most dangerous thing."
Richard spoke slowly, enunciating each word:
"The only reason my pen is still worth something is precisely because it doesn’t speak for anyone. It’s an independent pen."
"The moment it starts speaking for someone, it will become worthless."
Mr. Dawn stared at Richard for a long time, his eyes filled with admiration.
"Excellent! What a fine ’independent pen’."
Richard was a bit surprised. He had expected Mr. Dawn to be at least a little disappointed and displeased.
"You thought I’d be angry?" Mr. Dawn shook his head with a smile.
"Lad, I’d like to think I’m a decent judge of character. When I made the offer, I never expected you to accept."
"A person who can write that kind of article," Mr. Dawn said, raising his glass.
"If he were the type to take money to sing someone’s praises, he never could have written that article in the first place."
"How about this," Mr. Dawn said, looking at Richard.
"If I have any paper you can use, or any connections that might be useful to you."
"Just ask. No tabs, no charge. Consider it a gift from me, as your friend."
A warmth spread through Richard’s heart.
"That boy, Tom," Mr. Dawn added.
"If you ever have time to come back to Brighton in the future, I’d still like to ask you to give him some guidance."
"This would also be a matter of friendship, not employment."
"Done," Richard agreed with a solemn nod.
Mr. Dawn leaned back in his chair.
"Alright, I’ll have the driver take you home."

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