With the plan settled, Zhou Mingrui instantly found his center, and all his previous hesitation, fear, and restlessness retreated to the corners. Only now did he have the quiet space to carefully examine the fragments of memory left by Kline. Habitually, he stood up, closed the pipeline valves, and watched the wall lamp gradually fade until it went out, then sat back down again. He unconsciously rubbed the brass breech of his pistol while pressing gently against the side of his head, quietly savoring the deep, crimson darkness—like the most attentive viewer in a cinema. Perhaps affected by the passage of the bullet, Kline’s memories were like broken glass, fragmented and often missing key details: where had the finely crafted breech-loading pistol come from? Was it a suicide or a homicide? What exactly did the note on the notebook—“Everyone will die, including me”—mean? Had he been involved in any unusual events in the two days before the incident? Not only have these specific memories become fragmented and incomplete, but even the knowledge itself has suffered—currently, Zhou Mingrui believes that if Kline were to return to university, he might not graduate, despite having only been away from campus for a few days and maintaining no sense of relaxation. "Two days later, he will attend the interview for the History Department at Tinggen University..." "The universities in the Luon Kingdom traditionally do not have graduates who stay on campus immediately—each advisor has provided recommendation letters for both Tinggen and Bekland Universities..." ...While Zhou Mingrui silently observed, the red moon westward gradually sank, until a faint glow appeared in the east, staining the horizon golden. At that moment, movement was heard inside the room, and soon footsteps approached the isolation door. "Melissa has woken up—she truly remains as punctual as ever," Zhou Mingrui smiled slightly, feeling a sense of familiarity with Melissa, as if she were his own sister, shaped by Kline's memories. Yet, I don't have a younger sister... He added with a complaint. Melissa is different from Bensen and Klein—her early education wasn't completed in the Sunday schools of the Night Goddess's church. When she reached school age, the Kingdom of Ruin enacted the Elementary Education Act, establishing a committee for secondary and elementary education and allocating dedicated funding to increase investment. Within just three years, after incorporating numerous church schools, a large number of public elementary schools were founded, strictly maintaining a principle of religious neutrality, thus avoiding entanglement in the disputes among the churches of the Storm Sovereign, the Night Goddess, and the God of Steam and Machinery. While the Sunday schools charged only one copper penny per week, the public elementary schools charged three pennies weekly—seemingly quite expensive. However, the Sunday schools offered instruction only on Sundays, whereas the public schools required attendance for six days a week. Overall, the public schools offered a significantly more affordable option, approaching near-free tuition. Melissa is different from most girls her age—since childhood, she has been drawn to gears, springs, and bearings, and has always aspired to become a steam mechanic. Her older brother, Bensen, who himself had once suffered from cultural disadvantages and now deeply understands the value of education, has supported Melissa’s ambitions just as he supported Klein’s pursuit of university studies. After all, Tinggen Technical School offers only a secondary education, and there’s no need to accumulate further at a grammar school or a public school. In July last year, at the age of fifteen, Melissa passed her entrance examination and successfully enrolled in the Steam and Mechanical Department of Tinggen Technical School, with her weekly tuition increasing to nine pence. Meanwhile, the import and export company where Bensen works has suffered significant setbacks due to developments on the southern continent—both its profits and volume of business have sharply declined. As a result, the company has been forced to lay off over a third of its staff. To secure his job and maintain his livelihood, Bensen now has to take on heavier responsibilities, frequently working overtime or traveling to less favorable locations for assignments—just as he has been doing recently. Klein hadn't never thought of helping his brother financially—though born into a common family and having attended a standard grammar school, he immediately felt his shortcomings upon entering university. For instance, Old Fussack, the ancient language serving as the foundational tongue of all northern continental nations, was something that noble-born children and those from wealthier backgrounds had studied from an early age. Klein only encountered it for the first time during his university years. There were countless other similar disparities. He had drawn upon every ounce of strength, often staying up late and rising early, just barely keeping pace with his peers and graduating with a solid, but not outstanding, record. As Melissa was about to step out, Zhou Mingrui pressed his temple with one hand while hurriedly opening the desk drawer, tossing the revolver inside with a solid thud. "What happened?" Melissa heard the commotion and turned toward him, puzzled. She was at the peak of her youth—though her meals were often simple and her face slightly thin and pale, her skin still shone with a youthful radiance, exuding the essence of a young woman. Noticing Melissa's brown eyes studying him intently, Zhou Mingrui steadied himself, picked up a nearby object, closed the drawer smoothly to conceal the revolver, and felt the reassuring sensation at his temple, confirming that the wound had fully healed. From the drawer, he produced a silver watch with vine and leaf patterns. Gently pressing the top, the lid popped open. He was the most valuable item left behind by the royal army sergeant, the father of the three siblings. Yet, as a secondhand piece, it inevitably faced issues from time to time—despite having been repaired by watchmakers—often causing Benson, who cherished it to elevate his status, to stumble repeatedly. Eventually, he simply set it aside at home. It must be said that Melissa truly has a talent for mechanics. After mastering the theoretical knowledge, she began tinkering with the watch using tools from her technical school, and recently claimed to have fully restored it! Zhou Mingrui watched as the lid opened, noticing the second hand stopped. Without thinking, he turned the crown at the top, intending to wind the watch. Yet, after several turns, there was no sound of the spring tightening, and the second hand remained motionless. "It seems to have broken again," he said, finding no words to offer to his sister. Melissa glanced at him expressionlessly, then quickly stepped forward and took the watch from him. She stood there, first pulling the button at the top of the watch, and after only a few turns, a steady ticking sound of the second hand began. Normally, pulling the button should adjust the time—yet Zhou Mingrui's expression instantly grew stiff. At that moment, the chime of the distant cathedral rang out, six deep, resonant and ethereal. Melissa listened intently, then pulled the button higher and turned it several times to set the time correctly. "Done," she said simply, without any emotion, then pushed the button back down and returned the watch to Zhou Mingrui. Zhou Mingrui smiled politely, though slightly embarrassed. Melissa glanced deeply at her brother once more, then turned toward the cabinet, picked up a toothbrush, a towel, and other items, opened the door, and walked toward the public restroom. "What was there about her expression—so dismissive yet resigned?" "Was it the way she looked at her intellectually disabled brother, full of care?" Zhou Mingrui shook his head and smiled lightly, snapping the watch lid shut with a soft click, then clicking it open again. Repeating this motion, his thoughts drifted to a question. Without a silencer, when Kline died—well, let's provisionally call it suicide—his movements must have been quite loud. Yet Melissa, just across the wall, was completely unaware. Was she simply sleeping too deeply? Or was there something inherently strange about Kline's death itself? Before the water came to a boil, she opened the lower drawer of the cupboard, carefully removed a tin of inferior tea, and scattered about ten leaves into the teapot, pretending it was genuine tea. One person poured two large cups, and Melissa and Zhou Mingrui shared two slices of rye bread with the tea. There was no wood chip, not much gluten, yet it still wasn't very good—Zhou Mingrui, now weak and hungry, had to force himself to swallow the bread while muttering complaints. After a few minutes, Melissa finished her meal, combed her black hair back over her vest, and looked at Zhou Mingrui. "Remember to buy fresh bread—eight pounds, please. It spoils easily when the weather's hot. Also don't forget the lamb and the peas!" Indeed, she was showing genuine care for her bookish brother, repeating it again and again. Zhou Mingrui smiled and nodded. "Got it." Regarding the pound in the kingdom of Luon, Zhou Mingrui, based on his memory of the meat from Klein and his own comparison, judged it to be roughly equivalent to his usual jin, or about 0.5 kilograms. Melissa said nothing more, rose to tidy up, packed the final loaf of bread for lunch, donned her mother’s worn linen hat, and took up her own hand-sewn leather satchel for books and stationery, ready to go. Today was not Sunday—she had a full day of classes ahead. It took about fifty minutes to walk from her apartment to Tingg Technical School, and there was also a public horse carriage service, costing one penny per kilometer, with a maximum of four pence within the city and six pence outside the city. To save money, Melissa always left early and walked the distance herself. As soon as she opened the door, she paused, half-turning to say: "Clay, don’t buy too much lamb and peas—Benson might not return until Sunday, yes, and remember, just eight pounds of bread, please." "Right, right," Zhou Mingrui replied, somewhat resigned. At the same time, he silently repeated the word "Sunday" several times. On the northern continent, the year was also divided into twelve months, ranging from 365 to 366 days, and the week consisted of seven days. The earlier findings were from astronomy, making Zhou Mingrui suspect that they were in a parallel world; the latter stemmed from religion, as the established pantheon of the Northern Continent consisted of seven deities: the Everlasting Scorching Sun, the Lord of Storms, the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, the Goddess of Night, the Earth Mother, the God of War, and the God of Steam and Machinery. Watching his sister close the door behind her, Zhou Mingrui suddenly exhaled, then quickly shifted his focus to the transfer ritual.