After finishing this late lunch with a slight regret, Furen did not find that the coffee in Trier was of poor quality after all, he had neither the habit of drinking coffee nor a real aesthetic sensitivity to appreciate its nuances.
Leaving this cheap little restaurant, Furen didn't even dare compare this establishment with the "Dixie Bay Seafood Restaurant" from the day before: the prices, the flavors, the ambiance and the experience were on a whole other level.
However, Furen wasn't demanding after all; the prices were in two completely different categories. And fine foods had to be earned: not only did he not have the means to indulge in such luxury, but even if he had, he wouldn't have indulged in the expense. For, as the saying goes, from simplicity to luxury there is only one step, but from luxury to simplicity, the return is difficult.
Furen returned once again to the National Library in Trier. Although it wasn't crowded, there were still a lot of people. As he expected, most of the seats on the second floor were already occupied. So he didn't go up, preferring to rediscover a feeling he loved: sitting in a quiet corner of the library to read.
He picked up a copy of "A Brief History of Ancient and Modern Philosophy," felt its weight in his hands, and then slowly walked along the neat rows of shelves. Here and there, one or two people were borrowing or returning books. Gradually, Furen let himself be won over by the serenity of the place; his mind calmed with the rhythm of the surrounding silence.
The library was vast. Even though the ground floor was entirely occupied by bookshelves, there was always a free corner to sit. Some regular readers, who hadn't found a seat, had settled down on the floor, accustomed to this practice, immersed in their favorite reading.
Furen didn't have to look long: he soon found a deserted corner, sat down with his back against a white wall, his legs slightly bent, adopting a comfortable posture, and immersed himself in his book. Shortly after, he tapped his forehead, took out his notebook, and began to jot down a few thoughts in a scattered manner.
Time passed quickly. When he looked up, it was already nearly six o'clock. The library staff were beginning to light candles, while the sunlight outside was turning from bright white to a dusky orange. His back ached a little, but nothing unusual; it was the familiar discomfort of readers absorbed in their books.
He stretched for a long time, and his body creaked all over. After two or three movements, he let out a lazy yawn, took the heavy volume in his arms, and, in a slight state of torpor mingled with satisfaction, walked slowly over to the shelves to put it back in its place.
That's when he saw her.
A young girl of great beauty stood there. She wore a long black dress, her figure was slender and graceful, her chest and hips subtly defined. But her face expressed an indescribable sadness, a melancholy that no light seemed able to dispel. On her left hand, a small ring gleamed on her little finger—a ring that had obviously once been worn on her ring finger.
Furen wasn't a young man of strange inclinations, but the sight of this grieving beauty tugged at his heartstrings. Staring at her fingers, he noticed how pale her hands were, so pure that the slightest trace of blood beneath the skin seemed poignant.
Furen had already experienced this kind of encounter once. He felt a mixture of apprehension and unease rising within him: what if this girl was a Demon? If such a woman targeted him, he was certain he would be doomed.
Yet he did not hurry. He continued to walk at a natural pace, casting two or three furtive glances at the young girl, full of admiring curiosity. Then he put down his book, and, as he turned around, gave her one last glance. Contemplating the line of her graceful back, he left the place, satisfied, without a sound.
Once outside, Furen took a deep breath. He wondered if he should deal with this mysterious Demon, but he had to admit that he had no way of doing anything.
The members of the Abraham family in Trier had just been seriously affected. If this demoness belonged to a sequence higher than the seventh, even Amadi, whom he could have called for help, would probably lose his life. As for reporting her to the Church, Furen was convinced he would undoubtedly end up as a guinea pig for some sealed object before the demoness was even captured. And if he involved other families, he risked having them discovered, and all of them would perish because of him.
And then, he thought, he didn't even know her: neither her name nor her address.
Sighing, Furen shook off the disturbing thoughts. He took the path he had already taken several times and slowly made his way towards the Kinghanston district.
The sky was adorned with red clouds, which gradually paled before turning white again. The light was fading, and the brightness of day gave way to darkness. In this world, unlike his original one, a strange red moon rose on the horizon.
Furen stared at the scarlet star and was lost in thought. How, in this world, could researchers claim that the moonlight came from the sun's reflection? So many seemingly ordinary phenomena here differed from what he knew... Perhaps physics, also based here on experimentation, obeyed entirely different laws?
These wandering thoughts accompanied him as he entered Kinghanston. He then remembered that he had to find a servant for the housekeeping, and, as night was approaching, he decided to try his luck at the Kinghanston Life Improvement Company.
To his surprise, the business was still open. Although only the ground-floor light was on, Furen hadn't expected to find a company that already had a night shift, or perhaps it was simply employees working overtime, a new thing in the nascent era of the Industrial Revolution.
Hesitating for a moment before the wide open door, Furen overcame his laziness and entered, determined to find a suitable servant to wash and clean at his house.
The place wasn't luxurious, but it was spotlessly clean. The lobby floor was covered in white tiles, and candles cast a clear light. There were no ornate chandeliers or unnecessary decorations: just simple candlesticks, a table, and a few simple but comfortable armchairs and chairs.
Looking inside, Furen noticed that there were only two or three employees behind the counter, chatting or working quietly. Upon seeing him enter, they seemed a little surprised, but immediately stood up with a friendly smile to welcome him.
Without further hesitation, Furen walked towards the counter.
(End of chapter)