FWF Chapter 398: New Case
Chapter 398: New Case
Lin Jie sat in the leather armchair at 221B Baker Street.
High-quality smokeless coal burned in the fireplace, dispelling much of the damp chill of the late autumn morning.
Mrs. Hudson had just delivered a pot of freshly brewed Ceylon black tea.
The aroma of the tea filled the room.
Lin Jie picked up the bone china teacup and took a small sip.
His fingers rubbed against the rim of the cup. A month had passed since the judgment in Geneva.
The internal turmoil within the Association had settled. Sir Henderson, Mr. Morgan, and others had used swift and decisive measures to purge the remnants of Ackerman's faction.
Although the secrets of the "Projection World" and the "True World" still hung over their heads like a Sword of Damocles, at least at this stage, they had bought themselves precious breathing room.
There was no longer a need to hide in the sewers every day.
There was no longer a need to sleep with a hand on the gun grip.For a hunter, this was almost a luxurious indulgence.
Lin Jie set down his teacup, his gaze falling on a letter on the desk.
It was a letter from the Richmond district, with Arthur's familiar, slightly stiff handwriting on the envelope.
Just a few days ago, Lin Jie had visited the Weston home.
The surveillance posts around that red-brick house had long been withdrawn.
Lily was now sitting quietly in the garden painting, accompanied by a blind-eyed nun in a plain-colored long dress.
That was the mentor Barton had sent.
This nun wasn't teaching Lily how to seal that "Synesthesia," but rather how to organize those vast and chaotic streams of information.
Under the nun's guidance, Lily was no longer a passive vessel receiving signals.
She had learned to transform the mad whispers into a controllable state, akin to lucid dreaming.
Those terrifying metallic roots and glowing flowers had not reappeared.
Lily was still that pure and kind girl, except that her paintings now contained some grand, incomprehensible landscapes that no longer held destructive power.
The Weston family was finally reunited.
In the letter, old Arthur expressed his gratitude to Lin Jie in an extremely sincere tone.
Lin Jie folded the letter and placed it in a drawer.
It gave him a sense of relief.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The door was gently tapped.
"Come in."
The door opened.
In walked Wang Qingnian, dressed in a tailored woolen overcoat and carrying a black briefcase.
"Good morning, Mr. Lin." Wang Qingnian's face wore a congenial, business-friendly smile. "It seems you're quite enjoying your current retirement."
"Just a temporary leave." Lin Jie gestured to the chair opposite. "Have a seat, Mr. Wang. I imagine you didn't come here today just to check on my complexion."
"Of course not."
Wang Qingnian sat down, placing the heavy briefcase on his lap.
"I'm here to report on the progress of our previous 'collaboration project.'"
Lin Jie's eyes narrowed slightly.
He knew what Wang Qingnian was referring to.
Lin Jie had used the massive fortune he accumulated from missions to make a series of crazy investments in the City of London.
He had invested in alternating current technology, synthetic rubber, the chemical industry, and those new tech companies that, at the time, seemed utterly unreliable and were even considered heretical.
"You are truly a genius, Mr. Lin."
Wang Qingnian opened the briefcase, took out a thick ledger, his voice tinged with barely concealed excitement.
"Or perhaps, you have eyes that can see through the future."
He opened the ledger, pointing at the dense rows of numbers.
"As Edison's 'Aether Tower' project at Wardenclyffe failed, the Brotherhood of Light suffered a severe funding chain rupture."
"Mr. Morgan keenly seized this opportunity on Wall Street."
"Using funds injected by the Redgrave family and the intelligence we provided, he launched a devastating short-selling attack on the core industries under Edison's name in the stock market."
Wang Qingnian's finger swept forcefully across the page.
"It was a massacre."
"Edison General Electric Company's stock price plummeted seventy percent over the past month."
"In contrast, Mr. Tesla's alternating current technology, having received Mr. Morgan's full support, experienced explosive growth."
"The alternating current power station project at Niagara Falls has officially commenced."
Lin Jie listened quietly.
All of this was within his expectations.
Edison's failure wasn't just because his schemes were thwarted, but because he stood against the tide of historical development.
And Lin Jie had merely gone with the flow, positioning himself ahead of the trend.
"So, what's the specific figure?" Lin Jie asked.
Wang Qingnian took a deep breath.
Even as a seasoned financial agent accustomed to major storms, his voice still trembled slightly as he announced the number.
"Deducting the principal and dividends. Your personal, legal net assets in Barclays Bank, Rothschild Bank, and several offshore trust funds..."
"Have reached forty-seven thousand five hundred pounds."
Forty-seven thousand five hundred pounds.
In London in 1890, the annual income of an ordinary dockworker was about forty pounds.
A luxurious villa in a wealthy district cost no more than two thousand pounds.
This sum, if converted into modern currency from before Lin Jie's transmigration, would undoubtedly be a jaw-dropping, billionaire-level figure.
The snowball of capital, after the initial risk, had finally rolled into a snow-capped mountain.
Lin Jie, this transmigrator who once fought for pennies in the slums of Whitechapel.
Was now a hidden top-tier magnate in this city.
"And this is just the first wave of dividends."
Wang Qingnian closed the ledger, his eyes fervent.
"As the alternating current network expands and the patents from those chemical companies begin to monetize, your assets will at least triple again within the next five years."
"Mr. Lin, you now have the means to buy any street in London that catches your eye."
Lin Jie looked at the ledger. His expression wasn't as excited as Wang Qingnian's.
Wealth, to him, was merely a tool.
In this world that could collapse at any moment, money couldn't buy the truth, nor could it buy real safety.
But money could buy better equipment, a safer intelligence network, and... a more stable rear base.
"I don't need to buy streets."
Lin Jie leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.
"Mr. Wang, I need you to do something for me."
"Please instruct." Wang Qingnian immediately sat up straight, his attitude more respectful than ever.
"I want to buy a house in the Bloomsbury district."
Lin Jie envisioned that area in central London, full of academic atmosphere. It was close to the British Museum and relatively quiet and discreet.
"I want a Victorian-style terraced house with an independent basement, preferably with a large wine cellar or air-raid shelter."
"The location must be secluded, with not too many neighbors."
"After buying it, don't register it under my name. Use one of your overseas shell companies."
Wang Qingnian keenly sensed Lin Jie's intention.
"You want to establish a private stronghold?"
"Something like that."
Lin Jie nodded.
This apartment on Baker Street was too small.
With the increase in team members and the more dangerous, top-secret missions they would face next, they needed a real "fortress."
A comprehensive headquarters integrating intelligence analysis, equipment development, medical aid, and tactical simulation.
"The basement needs to be large enough."
"Because Evelyn needs to establish an extremely large electrical laboratory."
"And it must have a complete ventilation and drainage system, in case we conduct some... less than compliant alchemical experiments there."
"I understand."
Wang Qingnian took out a small notebook and quickly jotted things down.
"Money is not an issue. I'll arrange the best people for this task."
"For the security system, I can utilize some of the latest technology from the North American branch to ensure not even a mosquito can get in."
"I leave it to you."
Lin Jie picked up his teacup, signaling the end of the meeting.
Wang Qingnian stood up, gave a slight bow, and hurried out with his briefcase.
The room returned to quiet.
Lin Jie walked to the window, looking down at the bustling street below.
Now, he was truly alone.
Just three days ago.
William, along with his daughter Anna and grandson Tommy, boarded a train to the Scottish Highlands.
This veteran who had walked the line between life and death countless times had finally requested a long leave from his superiors. He needed time to be with his family.
Julian had set off for Paris a week earlier.
The emergence of the "Initial Protocol" had overturned the Association's history. As a scholar, Julian urgently needed to return to the secret archives beneath the Louvre to re-examine those altered documents, trying to find clues about the True World.
As for Evelyn.
She had been holed up in a temporary warehouse provided by Wang Qingnian these past few days, frantically purchasing all sorts of copper wire, vacuum tubes, and generators.
She was preparing for the soon-to-be-completed laboratory in the new villa.
Everyone had found their place. Only Lin Jie seemed to have returned to the starting point.
Night fell.
The London fog grew thicker.
After dinner, Lin Jie sat under the lamp in the study, maintaining his weapons.
The poisonous sheen on the blade was still a deep blue, but Lin Jie could feel that as his own power increased, this weapon was beginning to show signs of inadequacy against higher-tier enemies.
He needed to find a way to further elevate this blade.
Or perhaps... find entirely new materials to forge a true divine weapon.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
The door downstairs was suddenly knocked upon urgently.
The knocking was heavy, clearly indicating the knocker's extreme anxiety.
Lin Jie frowned. Mrs. Hudson was already asleep.
He set down the knife, picked up the revolver from the table, and silently descended the stairs.
He looked through the peephole. Outside stood a man in a dark blue police uniform.
His shoulders were damp, he held an umbrella, and his expression looked utterly exhausted and anxious.
Lin Jie relaxed, put away the gun, and drew back the bolt.
"Arthur?"
Lin Jie looked at the old constable, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
"It's so late, why are you here? Is something wrong with Lily? Aren't you on leave?"
"No, Lily is fine."
Arthur took off his police helmet and wiped the rain from his forehead.
His face held an extremely complex expression: fear, confusion, and a deep sense of helplessness.
"Lin..."
Arthur's voice was hoarse.
"I know you deal with those... abnormal things."
"I didn't want to bother you."
"But..."
He pulled a brown paper file from inside his raincoat and handed it to Lin Jie.
"Scotland Yard is going mad. This is the third murder case in three days."
"The higher-ups have classified it as an unsolvable mystery, ready to seal the files."
"But I read the case files..."
Arthur looked up, his old policeman's eyes filled with terror.
"This definitely wasn't done by a human."
Lin Jie took the file.
It was thin; there clearly wasn't much inside.
"Come in."
Lin Jie stepped aside, letting Arthur into the living room.
He poured Arthur a cup of hot tea, then opened the file.
Inside were only a few blurry black-and-white crime scene photos and a few brief preliminary autopsy reports.
"Tell me the situation."
Lin Jie sat on the sofa, quickly scanning the text.
"The victims were three respectable gentlemen."
Arthur held the teacup, his hand still trembling slightly.
"One was a bank client manager, one was an assistant to a Member of Parliament, and one was... a merchant in the transoceanic trade."
"Their deaths were identical."
"They all died in alleys less than two streets from their homes, returning from clubs or parties around midnight."
"The cause of death was..."
Arthur took a deep breath, as if even saying the word felt absurd.
"Drowning."
Lin Jie's hand, flipping through the photos, paused.
He looked up at Arthur.
"Drowning?"
"In an alley?"
"Yes."
Arthur gave a bitter smile.
"There were no signs of struggle at the scene."
"The victims' clothes were intact, even their wallets and gold watches weren't missing."
"But their lungs were filled with water."
"The forensic examiner extracted large amounts of turbid liquid from their trachea and alveoli, mixed with some algae and silt."
"It was water from the Thames."
Lin Jie's brow furrowed tightly.
This was too bizarre.
Finding a drowned body in the Thames was normal.
But if a person, in a dry, enclosed alley kilometers from the Thames, had their lungs filled with river water and drowned to death...
That was definitely not an ordinary murder.
"This can't be the work of a serial killer."
Arthur continued.
"Even if someone transported river water to the alley and forced it down the victim's throat..."
"The victim would struggle violently during suffocation."
"There would be water stains on the alley floor, scratches from the struggle."
"The victim's fingernails would have the perpetrator's skin under them."
"But there was nothing."
Arthur pointed to one of the photos.
The victim in the photo lay on the cobblestone pavement, his expression eerily calm, with a strange sense of relaxation.
"The scene was so dry, there wasn't a single drop of extra water."
"It was as if the victim was thrown into an invisible river while asleep."
Lin Jie looked at the photo.
His gaze fell on the victim's clothes.
The surface of that high-quality woolen overcoat, though seemingly dry...
At the edge of the photo, near the hem of the coat, there were faint, strange spots with a reflective quality.
It looked like residue left behind after some kind of mucus dried.
"Where were the crime scenes?" Lin Jie asked.
"The first was in Kensington."
"The second in Mayfair."
"The third..."
Arthur swallowed.
"On the edge of Whitechapel."
A huge geographical spread.
No discernible pattern.
An extremely covert and unnatural modus operandi.
Lin Jie closed the file.
He stood up and walked to the window.
The night fog was thicker.
This kind of weather was practically a carnival for monsters that liked to hide in the shadows.
"Who is in charge of the autopsies for this case?"
Lin Jie turned around, his eyes gleaming with the light of a hunter spotting prey.
"A new forensic examiner."
Arthur replied.
"Reportedly a very difficult character."
"She's a woman."
"A staunch materialist, named Beatrix Vance."
"She insists this is an extremely sophisticated new type of poison murder and is frantically dissecting those bodies in the morgue."
"A woman?"
Lin Jie was surprised.
In Scotland Yard in 1890, a female forensic examiner was itself an extremely rare occurrence.
"Yes."
"I heard she graduated top of her class from the University of Edinburgh Medical School."
"She doesn't believe in ghosts or supernatural talk at all."
Arthur sighed.
"Lin, if this really is the work of one of those things..."
"You need to deal with it before that madwoman causes even more trouble."
Lin Jie walked to the coat rack.
He picked up the freshly cleaned [Black Mercury] trench coat and draped it over his shoulders.
"Don't worry, Arthur."
Lin Jie patted the old constable on the shoulder.
"Since this thing dares to hunt on my turf."
"Then I'll go take a look at the morgue."
"And incidentally, meet this staunch forensic examiner."