Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

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 former 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 time, 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 apartment building had an exterior door rope, pulling it would engage an interior gear mechanism, ringing a bell inside, serving as a kind of simple doorbell.

"Newspaper delivery? No, why would a newspaper person knock... Maybe it's time 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 someone looking for the apartment'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 immediately got a response from outside, a familiar voice:

"Is this Hamilton Detective Office? This is Bill Schneider, remember me? 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 name Shard knew had come to visit him.

Not expecting the visitor to be Dr. Schneider, Shard stood behind the door, unsure whether to open it. His moment 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 time, I have no malicious intentions, please just look at this since our time is short."

The man outside spoke, slipping a piece of paper through the newspaper delivery slot.

"Do you remember what I mentioned 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 enrollment 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 frame outlining the shape of a parchment roll, it was an admissions document 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 times, academic systems, admission criteria and restrictions, and recommended registration procedures. At least from these aspects, it seemed 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 mental illness, coming so early in the morning to hand a stranger an enrollment document.

"Your observation is very keen."

The psychologist outside praised, then asked:

"So, may I come 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 mentioned; 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 somewhat thick black boots. Still maintaining his meticulous mustache, his blue eyes seemed 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 come 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 apartment 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 moment while he went back to his bedroom to change his clothes, and then boiled some 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 seemed 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 me," said Mustache, Dr. Schneider, as he smiled and thanked Shard for the tea:

"I've come because of the promotional leaflet I gave you earlier about the academy. First, let me describe your current symptoms—"

"Wait a moment, 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" mentioned 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 some of its words helpful to you? It whispers in your ear, speaking unexpectedly at times, 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 time, and it seems we are quite fortunate. After all, the awakening time for a Talent is 72 hours, so that gives me even more time 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 met Shard's as he spoke very slowly:

"For a certain group of people, the existence of 'another me' 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 mediocrity?"

"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 mean."

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 mental 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 confirmed, Shard hesitated and nodded slightly. He tried to pretend to be surprised, since a normal person would definitely be surprised, but at that moment 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 some kind of...system, a power system? Are there many people like this? Like some people see further, some hear more?" Shard asked.

"Yes, 'I am you, and you are me,' 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 some time to think:

"However, the awakening time 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 extremely difficult. That's why I say we are all very lucky."