The maid who had suddenly bumped into them was in front.
Behind them was the ’Nightingale’ call that signaled a successful operation.
Now, the situation facing Ronald and Cones was crystal clear.
— Engage in a confrontation with the maid.
Then there was the possibility of exposing their actions, resulting in direct capture by the people in the office building. Neither Ronald nor Cones had the ability to break through the situation with brute force.
— Or turn and run now.
eting with the other three who had completed their mission and together fleeing into the night. With the advantage of initiative and the natural cover of darkness, the probability of escaping successfully after completing the mission was definitely not low.
asured by normal thinking, both actions had their pros and cons.
The risks faced were also quite different.
But in that instant, where thought was faster than a thunderclap.
A smile had already ford on Ronald’s face, and he imdiately walked past Cones to the stairs. Bending at the waist, he mimicked the bow of a British noble in the movies, Ronald began speaking with an exaggerated tone that even he found nauseating:
"This lady, my friend here would like to use the washroom, could you show us the way?"
"..."
One second ago, the maid had doubts about the identities of the two n in front of her.
But once she saw Ronald’s friendly and gentle smile, his graceful and proper actions, and his young and handso face, most of her suspicions vanished instantly.
This was the 18th century, and the first industrial revolution had just begun.
Ordinary people could claim to live comfortably if they managed to feed and clothe themselves, and most of those who could maintain a certain standard of physique and appearance were... not one hundred percent, but a great majority, ’successful individuals.’
With such looks and a smile, and even maintaining politeness,
The maid already regarded him as a guest of the factory owner—how could she associate them with the identity of ’thieves’?
Even a bit excitedly, the maid mimicked the curtsy she rembered from noble ladies:
"Sir... It would be my pleasure to serve you."
Seeing the maid so simply swayed by his act, Ronald imdiately gave a look to Cones, who stood behind him with a stunned face, and continued speaking promptly:
"Lady, you can just take him."
"I know where Mr. Bolton is, I won’t bother you anymore."
"..."
"Yes, yes!"
The maid stood there dazed for a few seconds, then ca to her senses and started walking towards Cones.
The man and the woman turned and descended the stairs, quickly disappearing at the end of the corridor.
"Phew—"
Watching them leave, Ronald finally exhaled deeply.
He had cunningly navigated the hurdle before him.
Deprived of the power of spells, wearing softer shoes as an ordinary man, he had managed to overlook it in the re act of conversing. The difference between having magical powers and being without them was truly vast.
With a slight sense of wonder, Ronald did not continue to hesitate.
He looked up at the wall in front of him, his gaze seeming to penetrate the building, extending to the outside leader who was mimicking the Nightingale’s call.
Having made frequent use of Bradshaw’s Railway Guide,
Ronald’s sense of timing was extrely precise.
So he also knew very well that the leader searching for blueprints in the pitch-black building would spend roughly the sa amount of ti as he had. One side had co up empty, while the other side had succeeded in finding their target directly.
Such a situation...
No matter how one looked at it, it resembled the deadliest trap in the original trial!
Thinking about the situation with normal logic, an ordinary person would certainly believe that the key to this trial lay in the "steam engine blueprints," especially since imdiately upon entering the trial, one was assigned the role of a thief tasked with stealing the blueprints.
At this mont, he heard the news from outside that his companions had succeeded.
Continuing with normal logic, one would naturally think of a way to escape and then get the blueprints in hand to complete the trial.
However, all this could just be malice from the original to toward humanity.
It was a complete misdirection!
The trial’s tifra was actually a few years after Watt’s steam engine had been fully completed. The prototype blueprints, though in a completed state now, should definitely not have appeared in this place!
If Ronald left the office building now to et with the others, by the ti he ultimately got his hands on the blueprints, it was likely that they would not be the original to that constituted the trial!
So... what would the real trial be?
Although the most direct misleading information was abundant, Ronald still managed to gather and piece together the most likely clue from the scattered information.
—The location: Britain.
—The year: 1776.
—A book written by a Scotsman.
—Closely related to a great deal of money.
If his mory served him right, the origins of this to were also quite remarkable.
Even the malice toward the trial participants could very likely stem from the content of the book itself.
"The steam engine blueprints, there’s a much greater chance of them being in Bromfield’s coal mine than in a private factory in Birmingham."
He murmured softly, then Ronald turned his head to ascend to the second floor of the office building.
With the experience from his exploration on the first floor,
Ronald had a clear understanding of the general layout of the second floor.
He walked straight to the largest reception room, where, as expected, a servant quietly waited outside the door, clearly there in anticipation of any orders that the master might give.
Ronald walked up decisively and then spoke with considerable confidence,
"Sir, please inform Mr. Bolton."
"I have a business proposition from the Arican Colony that urgently needs several partners."
The servant was indeed taken in by the ruse.
Seeing Ronald’s handso appearance and distinguished deanor, he didn’t entertain any ssy thoughts. After a mont of daze, the fellow knocked on the door and entered the reception room.
Ronald did not have to wait long.
Just over a minute later, the servant ca out looking puzzled and nodded at Ronald.
"Sir, the master invites you in."
Ronald nodded in response and confidently walked into the reception room.
Apart from the servants attending to the master and his guests, there were only three people actually sitting in the moderately-sized room.
Their gazes collectively fixed on Ronald as he entered.
Their eyes were full of curiosity about the newcor.
To rush to Birmingham’s factory at night and to visit Bolton, and then also to claim affiliation with the Arican Colony established in the previous years—such a guest could not help but arouse curiosity.
At this ti, the advantage of Ronald’s appearance once again ca into play.
rely by observing his attire, the three in the reception room had a very favorable first impression, thinking he must at least be a figure of noble lineage or a wealthy rchant.
Negotiating with soone of such status,
At the very least, was an action befitting their own status and position.
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