The secret office area beneath the tropolitan Museum, I.A.R.C. North Arican Branch.
A massive map of the North Arican continent hung on the wall, densely covered with pushpins representing different spheres of influence.
Lin Jie sat opposite the mahogany desk, his gaze fixed on that map.
On it, the Wardenclyffe area on Long Island was marked in conspicuous red.
And far to the south, the location of New Orleans was marked with a small black flag.
This represented a threat that had been eliminated, or at least temporarily contained.
"What are you looking at?"
A gentle voice sounded.
Mr. Morgan pushed the door open and walked in.
The highest-ranking official of the North Arican Branch was wearing a well-tailored dark gray suit today.
His hair was ticulously combed, and behind his gold-rimd glasses were a pair of unfathomable gray eyes.
"I'm looking at the results of the battle," Lin Jie withdrew his gaze. "And also at the cost."
Morgan smiled, walking to sit behind the desk.
"Every war has its cost."
He took a thick docunt from a drawer.
"But as long as the gains outweigh the investnt, the war is worth it."
He pushed the docunt toward Ethan, who was sitting beside him.
"Mr. Redgrave, this is the final version of the agreent."
Morgan's tone beca formal.
"Regarding all the terms of the Redgrave family's strategic capital injection into the I.A.R.C. North Arican Branch, I've had the legal departnt review it. There are no issues."
Ethan took the docunt.
The young British aristocrat displayed a composure that belied his age at this mont.
That playboy who used to hide behind bodyguards was dead, replaced by the current Ethan Redgrave.
A true hunter, and a qualified family heir.
He picked up a fountain pen and signed his na at the end of the docunt.
"A pleasure doing business, Mr. Morgan," Ethan closed the folder. "The first tranche of funds will be deposited into your secret Swiss bank account within three days. General Electric's stock price has been falling these past few days. I'll continue to cause trouble for Edison in the market."
"That is sufficient," Morgan nodded with satisfaction. "As long as he's running around with his hair on fire on Wall Street, his movents in the inner world will be much more restrained."
This was a war without visible smoke.
Money, stocks, public opinion, patent rights.
These weapons of the Surface World were sotis more lethal than bullets.
After finishing the official business, Morgan's gaze turned back to Lin Jie.
"As for you, Mr. Lin."
His fingers lightly tapped the desktop.
"Your ship ticket has been booked. The ssenger, departing tomorrow morning."
"I know," Lin Jie nodded.
"Southeast Asia is a chaotic place," Morgan said slowly. "More chaotic than North Arica. It's a at grinder of colonial powers. The French, the British, local warlords, and... those ancient sects."
He pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk and took out an envelope from inside.
The envelope was black, sealed with red wax. The wax seal bore a strange pattern.
A pair of scissors.
"As the Branch Head, I am bound by the Geneva Conventions and the Association's internal regulations. I cannot directly deploy ard forces into French Indochina."
Morgan pushed the envelope toward Lin Jie.
"But as the 'Raven,' I have my own channels."
Lin Jie looked at the envelope.
"What is this?"
"A favor," Morgan said. "Many years ago, when I was doing business in the South Seas, I saved a man. He's now settled in Saigon or Singapore. His whereabouts are erratic."
"Is he a hunter?"
"No," Morgan shook his head. "He's a craftsman. He used to make paper offerings. Now... he's an information broker. Maybe does so other part-ti work on the side."
Paper offerings?
Lin Jie frowned slightly. This was an Asian-specific funeral custom.
"His codena is 'Paper Tailor.'"
Morgan's eyes grew sowhat profound.
"If you encounter trouble in the East that you absolutely cannot resolve. Or if you need so special service that the Association cannot provide, you can look for him."
"Give him this envelope. He'll help you once."
Lin Jie picked up the envelope.
It was very light.
It seed to contain only a single thin piece of paper inside.
"Only usable once?"
"Once," Morgan raised a finger. "Favors are sothing that diminish with each use, especially for soone like him."
Lin Jie nodded, solemnly tucking the envelope into his inner coat pocket.
This was Morgan's personal stash.
It was also a hidden piece this North Arican "player" had placed in the distant East.
"Thank you."
"No need for thanks. Consider it my personal gratitude for you cleaning up the mouth of the Delacroix River."
Morgan waved his hand.
"Alright, next matter."
He pressed the electric bell on the desk. The side door of the office opened, and Phineas walked in.
The young technical expert looked sowhat haggard, his hair ssy like a bird's nest, his eye bags frighteningly large. He looked like he had pulled several all-nighters.
But the tal box he carried in his hands was polished to a shine. Following behind him was Evelyn.
The girl looked sowhat uneasy. She wore a set of practical travel clothes, with that heavy tool bag hanging from her waist.
"Mr. Lin Jie," Phineas yawned. "And Mr. Ethan."
He placed the box on the desk.
"This is what you requested, and the gift for Miss Marconi."
Morgan looked at Evelyn, a trace of appreciation in his eyes.
"Miss Marconi, your performance at Wardenclyffe was impressive," Morgan said with a smile. "Those eyes that can see sound were the key to us breaching that fortress."
"That was... that was everyone's contribution," Evelyn lowered her head sowhat shyly.
"No, that is your value," Morgan interrupted her modesty. "But we've also noticed a problem. As a non-combatant, your self-defense capabilities are too weak."
He pointed at the tal box.
"You can't always hide behind others, especially when facing dangerous enemies."
"So, we prepared this for you."
Phineas stepped forward.
"Click."
The latch of the tal box popped open. A burst of white cold air spilled out from inside.
That was dry ice, used to maintain the stability of the internal components.
After the white mist dissipated, a piece of equipnt with a peculiar shape and full of industrial beauty lay quietly on the black velvet padding.
It was a glove. A vambrace.
Its main body was made of thick black insulating leather. The leather had undergone special hardening treatnt, its surface having a rough, grainy texture.
Complex brass circuits were inlaid on the surface of the leather.
These circuits, like human blood vessels, extended from the wrist all the way to the fingertips.
And on the back of the hand was installed a delicate coil device protected by a glass cover.
That was a miniature Tesla Coil.
Behind this device were connected two cylindrical glass bottles. The bottles were filled with silver tal foil.
Those were Leyden jars, the most primitive and reliable capacitors of the nineteenth century.
"This..."
Evelyn's eyes widened.
As a chanical inventor, she almost instantly understood the principle of this device.
"This is the technology you brought back from the Aether Tower," Phineas explained. "We reverse-engineered the Brotherhood of Light's arc gun. That thing was too bulky and required carrying a huge battery pack."
He picked up the glove.
"We miniaturized it to the extre, removed the remote firing module, and only kept the instantaneous discharge function."
"Try it on."
Evelyn tremblingly extended her right hand.
The glove's size was custom-made, fitting perfectly.
The thick leather didn't affect finger flexibility as much as one might imagine.
Phineas helped her fasten the wrist strap, then pointed to a hidden copper plate on the palm.
"That's the trigger switch. When you make a fist or press hard on your palm, the circuit will connect."
"The high-voltage charge stored in the Leyden jars will be boosted through that miniature Tesla Coil, then form a high-frequency arc at your fingertips."
"Try it. Aim at that."
Phineas pointed at a dummy model in the corner used for strength testing.
Evelyn took a deep breath.
She walked to the dummy, raised her right hand, spread her fingers, then suddenly clenched her fist!
"Zzzzzzzzz—!!!"
A piercing electric screech instantly filled the entire office!
Five blue-purple arcs, like the forked tongues of venomous snakes, erupted from her five fingertips!
These arcs twisted and danced in the air.
Then they converged into a thick bolt of lightning, viciously lashing against the dummy's chest!
"Crack!"
The wooden board on the dummy's chest instantly turned charred black, emitting a wisp of blue smoke.
Even more terrifying was that the current traveled along the wood, conducting to the tal fra inside the dummy.
The entire dummy began to tremble violently, the internal chanical parts emitting crackling sounds.
Two seconds later, Evelyn released her hand. The arcs disappeared, and the air was filled with the strong sll of ozone.
Although the dummy wasn't destroyed, all its joints had lted and welded shut, completely paralyzed.
"Oh my god..."
Evelyn looked at her hand, her eyes full of shock.
This was... electricity.
The scepter of Zeus.
The weapon Thomas Edison tried to use to rule the world.
Now it was dancing at her fingertips.
"Effective range is only two ters," Phineas added from the side. "And the Leyden jars have limited capacity. At full charge, it can only support three such full-power discharges. After that, it needs recharging."
"Charging takes about two hours. You can use the accompanying hand-crank generator, or directly connect it to any industrial generator."
"But this is already sufficient."
Lin Jie looked at the smoking glove.
"For any enemy trying to get close to you, this is a death sentence."
This wasn't just a weapon; it was a symbol.
Symbolizing that they were no longer just passively fighting against the Brotherhood of Light.
They had started learning, dismantling, and utilizing the enemy's technology.
【Tesla Coil Glove】.
This grotesque creation born in the I.A.R.C. laboratory, though containing no UMA materials and no mystical components.
Its power was definitely not inferior to any low-level Grotesque Armant.
"Thank you," Evelyn stroked the cold glass cover on the back of her hand, her eyes growing determined. "I'll make good use of it."
Morgan nodded with a smile.
"Then, everyone."
He stood up.
"Good luck to you."
...
That night.
Manhattan, Waldorf Astoria.
The top-floor panoramic restaurant was completely reserved.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was the dazzling nightscape of New York in 1889.
Countless gas lamps and early electric lights interwove into a sea of stars. Shadows of ships dotted the Hudson River.
This was the prosperity belonging to the Gilded Age. lodious jazz music flowed through the restaurant.
It was a black pianist from New Orleans playing, the lody lazy and lancholic.
The long dining table was covered with silverware and exquisite French cuisine.
But there weren't many people sitting at the table, only six.
Lin Jie, Ethan, Hawk, Evelyn, Phineas, and Upton.
This was a farewell dinner.
It was also the last gathering of this hastily assembled team.
Upton had already cut off his ssy long hair, shaved his beard, and changed into a decent suit.
This forr mathematical genius, now a double agent, looked much more spirited.
But there was still an inescapable gloom in the depths of his eyes, a trace left by long-term tornt from fear and guilt.
"I have to stay," Upton swirled the red wine in his glass, looking at the crimson liquid. "Although the Aether Tower is paralyzed. But Edison hasn't given up. He still has countless laboratories, countless mad plans."
"I understand his thinking. I'm the only one who can decipher those blueprints."
He looked at Lin Jie.
"I'll stay at the museum, continuing to monitor the Brotherhood of Light's movents as a technical advisor."
"This is atonent, and also revenge."
Lin Jie raised his glass in a toast to Upton.
"You've done well, Professor. Without you, we couldn't have succeeded."
Hawk sat opposite Lin Jie.
This Native Arican man still wore that wild leather vest, a tomahawk hanging from his waist.
He seed out of place in such a luxurious setting, but he didn't care at all.
He tore into a piece of bloody steak on his plate with large bites.
"I can't leave either."
Hawk wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth.
"That old man Morgan is right. This place is a battlefield. My people are suffering. Those chanical monsters are still roaming the forests."
He glanced at Lin Jie.
"And I have to keep an eye on this place for you. When you co back, if you can't co..."
He grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.
"I'll take my tomahawk and go find you, no matter how far."
"Then it's settled," Lin Jie smiled.
Evelyn sat beside Ethan. She had been sowhat silent.
Her fingers unconsciously stroked the black box placed on her knees, inside which was her new glove.
She was both excited and afraid.
Tomorrow she would leave this familiar land for a completely unfamiliar country.
To search for her father who had been missing for many years.
"Don't worry."
Ethan seed to see through her thoughts.
The heir of the Redgrave family was exceptionally elegant tonight.
He raised his glass.
"Lin Jie will protect you, just like at Wardenclyffe."
He turned his head, looking at Lin Jie.
Their gazes t in the air.
No words were needed.
That was absolute trust built after experiencing life-and-death trials.
"Ethan," Lin Jie spoke. "The business over here..."
"Don't worry," Ethan interrupted him. "Although I'm not very interested in business, my family advisors aren't freeloaders."
"My money is already in place. Morgan's people are in place."
"During your ti in Southeast Asia, I'll keep biting Edison's throat, so he has no energy to worry about other things."
"Over there... just do whatever you need to do."
A glint flashed in Ethan's eyes.
"Send a telegram if you need anything, whether it's money or guns. Even if you want to buy half of the Saigon branch, I can arrange it for you."
This was the confidence of the power of money.
"Good," Lin Jie nodded.
This was the best arrangent.
Hawk was responsible for ard suppression. Upton and Phineas were responsible for technical monitoring. Ethan was responsible for financial pressure. Morgan was responsible for overall coordination.
"For tomorrow."
Lin Jie stood up, raising his glass.
"For tomorrow!"
The other five also stood up. Clear clinking of glasses echoed in the empty restaurant.
The red wine swayed, like blood, and also like flas.
That night, New York's lights remained brilliant.
That night, Lin Jie drank a lot of wine.
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