Because he was sleeping in an unfamiliar place, Shard woke up early the next morning. He touched the pocket watch by his bed, saw that it was six-thirty, and thought about going downstairs to see if there was a newspaper delivered, knowing the people of Tobesk City commonly subscribed to newspapers.
The forr detective, who could be considered middle-class and needed to read newspapers for his work, indeed might have allowed the current Shard to inherit the future newspapers.
Wearing slippers, he walked down the stairs to the first floor hall, curiously looking at the sealed-off first floor, thinking that when he had the ti, he could remove a plank and peek inside.
Turning on the gas lamp in the hall, unfortunately, he didn't see a newspaper pushed through the door slot onto the front doormat.
Slightly disappointed, he shook his head, thinking about changing into clothes and then going out for breakfast. But just as his slippers touched the first step, he unexpectedly heard the sound of a bell.
The apartnt building had an exterior door rope, pulling it would engage an interior gear chanism, ringing a bell inside, serving as a kind of simple doorbell.
"Newspaper delivery? No, why would a newspaper person knock... Maybe it's ti to pay for next month's newspaper subscription?"
Financially struggling Shard felt a flicker of panic, calculating his remaining money as he anxiously turned to look at the door. Whoever was outside, he was unlikely to know them; the likelihood of them coming to collect money was not high, more probably soone looking for the apartnt's previous resident.
"Perhaps a new client?"
Under worse circumstances, maybe it was the landlord coming to collect the rent.
With no peephole or similar structure on the door, Shard could only go to the door and using the language skills he gained yesterday asked:
"May I know who it is?"
He imdiately got a response from outside, a familiar voice:
"Is this Hamilton Detective Office? This is Bill Schneider, rember ? Yesterday's psychologist, we exchanged business cards in front of the newspaper office across from the Nightingale Club."
In this similarly fog-enshrouded morning, one of the few people in this world whose na Shard knew had co to visit him.
Not expecting the visitor to be Dr. Schneider, Shard stood behind the door, unsure whether to open it. His mont of hesitation let the psychologist outside know the detective's wariness:
"Mr. Hamilton, you need not overthink it. Although it is strange to visit at this ti, I have no malicious intentions, please just look at this since our ti is short."
The man outside spoke, slipping a piece of paper through the newspaper delivery slot.
"Do you rember what I ntioned yesterday? Adult education, correspondence courses. Detective, you have a very special talent."
Shard bent down to pick up the paper, then slightly raised the brightness of the gas lamp in the hall. By that light, he saw that it was an enrollnt brochure.
"Hmm?"
He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if he was still not fully awake.
The piece of paper, about the size of A4, was bordered with a silver fra outlining the shape of a parchnt roll, it was an admissions docunt from an institution called "Saint Byrons Integrated Academy." Aside from the emblem at the top shaped like a book bound by chains, there were not many illustrations; the majority of the paper was occupied by printed text.
Saint Byrons Integrated Academy was not recruiting ordinary students; they were enrolling "correspondence" adult students.
Besides that, the paper listed the Academy's ten faculties, detailed tuition fees, admission tis, academic systems, admission criteria and restrictions, and recomnded registration procedures. At least from these aspects, it seed like an ordinary school.
"But why is there no school address?"
It took Shard a while to ask, then he was surprised he did not inquire whether the visitor had a ntal illness, coming so early in the morning to hand a stranger an enrollnt docunt.
"Your observation is very keen."
The psychologist outside praised, then asked:
"So, may I co in to discuss? Perhaps I could answer your questions about... the other you in your head."
The voice inside his head did not appear because it was ntioned; Shard opened his mouth but ended up opening the door.
The middle-aged doctor carrying a briefcase, dressed in a brown coat and wearing a small silk hat, stood on the steps with sowhat thick black boots. Still maintaining his ticulous mustache, his blue eyes seed very appealing:
"Don't forget your milk."
He gestured towards the milk box to the left of the door, speaking in a standard accent, probably a local from Tobesk City:
"The milkman had just left when I arrived."
"Okay, please co in."
Shard hesitated and nodded, sizing up the doctor and attempted to wear a kind expression. He picked up the keys from the shoe cabinet to unlock the milk box, while the psychologist followed him into the apartnt after Shard fetched the milk bottle.
He was surprised by the sealed-off section on the first floor, but the doctor didn't say much, and in silence, they went up the stairs to Room 1 on the second floor.
Shard asked the doctor to wait a mont while he went back to his bedroom to change his clothes, and then boiled so water to serve his guest. Although there was no food in the kitchen, at least there was tea for entertaining clients of the detective agency; otherwise, Shard would have had to serve plain water.
Once everything was in order, the two of them sat down to talk.
The living room's fabric sofa set seed quite antique, but it wasn't clear if it were truly so. Two long and two short, surrounding a wooden coffee table, it was very suitable for discussing business with a client.
The doctor and Shard then sat down on the facing long sofas.
"No need for introductions, first I need you to trust ," said Mustache, Dr. Schneider, as he smiled and thanked Shard for the tea:
"I've co because of the promotional leaflet I gave you earlier about the academy. First, let
describe your current symptoms—"
"Wait a mont, are the symptoms related to the academy?" asked Shard, already having a suspicion. He was not a "local" and had seen those crazy fantasies, which made him more adapted to this situation. The "Saint Byrons Integrated Academy" ntioned by the other party was probably a school similar to Hogwarts.
"Indeed, they are related. Mr. Shard Hamilton, can you hear another voice in your head?"
Although Shard tried to control his facial expressions, he could see from Mr. Schneider's smile across from him that he had failed.
The doctor added:
"Is that voice, by any chance, speaking nonsensical things to you? And, are so of its words helpful to you? It whispers in your ear, speaking unexpectedly at tis, yet holds no malice towards you."
Shard knew he couldn't hide it anymore and nodded.
"Furthermore, detective, these symptoms must have appeared within the last 72 hours."
"To be precise, 24 hours," said Shard.
"That's even better, then we have plenty of ti, and it seems we are quite fortunate. After all, the awakening ti for a Talent is 72 hours, so that gives
even more ti to explain the situation," Dr. Schneider said with a smile:
"The symptoms you are exhibiting are similar to those of schizophrenia, but in my eyes, they are not."
Pointing to himself, his blue eyes t Shard's as he spoke very slowly:
"For a certain group of people, the existence of 'another ' is a marvelous yet dangerous Talent. No, rather, it is an early manifestation of a Talent. If it can be guided properly, then you can see a more real world—a mysterious and dangerous world. If not guided…"
"It fades to diocrity?"
"No, worse," the doctor shook his head:
"I don't wish to deceive you, at least there's no need for that now. To put it clearly, this signifies the manifestation of a 'Circle Sorcerer' Talent, a very rare Talent. You could consider this a gift of Fate or a curse of Fate. Regarding 'Circle Sorcerer,' think of it as a special profession, a profession that can wield...mysterious powers. I hope you understand what I an."
The doctor was deliberately observing Shard's expression.
In this era, still steeped in ignorance, people who believed in the True God generally did not accept concepts like 'witchcraft.' Fortunately, just as the doctor's investigation indicated, the detective across from him had ntal issues just a few days ago and only returned to normal due to the awakening of his Talent, thus holding different views from the ordinary citizens.
On the other hand, as his guess was confird, Shard hesitated and nodded slightly. He tried to pretend to be surprised, since a normal person would definitely be surprised, but at that mont his heart was unusually calm, even too calm, which he thought might be due to the stress from yesterday:
"So, hearing strange voices in my ears is actually the manifestation of so kind of...system, a power system? Are there many people like this? Like so people see further, so hear more?" Shard asked.
"Yes, 'I am you, and you are ,' every Circle Sorcerer is like this. If you succeed in becoming a Circle Sorcerer, then this voice will accompany you for life, helping you throughout. That voice is another you, just with a different perspective. It will help you touch this mad and noisy world in a truer manner, encountering the hidden and the bizarre.
Knowledge, information, even words hold dangerous power, and outside the safe, ordinary world, we cannot approach these powerful forces directly with our souls."
The doctor paused to give Shard so ti to think:
"However, the awakening ti for a Circle Sorcerer Talent is very brief, from the first whisper by your ear to the complete disappearance of the voice, it usually occurs within 72 hours, and not every Gifted One can often hear that voice and realize that the voice isn't just their own thoughts. They might regard it as a hallucination or a hearing problem.
Therefore, Detective Shard Hamilton, whether it's the Three Major Academies or the church, recruiting and training new hands is extrely difficult. That's why I say we are all very lucky."
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