One night later, Ye Qingxuan looked at the equally disgraced Charles, full of resentment.

Sixteen explosions in one night, where is there such an outrageous thing? Moreover, the two of them are so strong in music theory that they don't know where they are.

Then it could only be Charles's pot.

"Well, blame me. ”

Charles opened his mouth and emitted a wisp of exploding white smoke: "The next time I test, I'll stand in the corner and ......"

"I think I'm going to be deaf if I blow it up again, so let's go to sleep first. Ye Qingxuan yawned, feeling exhausted.

"I've been waiting for you for two days. ”

Charles smiled, and immediately fell to the ground, and soon, snoring sounded.

Ye Qingxuan sighed, covered him with a dust blanket casually, climbed onto the broken sofa full of parts, didn't care if it was clean or not, just closed his eyes, and fell asleep unconscious.

In the morning, Bai Xi kicked the door down and saw the two of them sleeping until it was dark, so he pouted boredly, painted a big turtle on the face of one of them, and then pulled Lao Fei out of the house.

Today is a once-a-week class time.

At noon, when Abraham came down, he saw that the two men were still unconscious, shook his head and smiled bitterly, and after inspecting the music written by the two men, he made small changes in a few places, and after leaving a note, he also hurried out to report to the military headquarters.

In the afternoon, on a rare occasion, a visitor knocked someone from the music history department-

"Anyone?"

Bart was outside the door, knocking patiently, and for the third time, there was still no response.

There was silence in the old building, as if no one was there. He frowned and knocked on the door with some force. The door creaked...... It's on.

"Anyone?"

He cautiously probed his head, glanced at it, saw the cracks in the wall, the peeling skin in the corners, and frowned: what the hell is this?

There was still a hint of alcohol in the air, which made Bart's face even more ugly: Have these guys degenerated into drinking for fun?

Musicians need absolute calmness and focus. Drinking alcohol is simply suicidal......

He pinched his nostrils and walked into the living room, which was empty. He waited for a while, but still no one came. Finally, he got impatient and got up angrily, feeling that he was wasting his time.

Coming here to bow his head to the music history department was already the limit of his tolerance, but now after such a long time, it was like a humiliation.

He waited no longer and pushed Abraham's study open. I tore through a piece of paper and left a note for another visit, as well as the teacher's business card.

"Hmph, music history department. ”

Bart snorted coldly, and finally swept the messy study, turned to leave, but just after two walks, his steps stopped, and his body stiffened in place.

It was like finally reacting. Stunned, he looked back at the table...... The stack of manuscripts on the table.

In situ. He hesitated for a long time, but finally mustered up the courage to carefully open the stack of manuscript papers and quickly flip through them.

The more you look at him, the more ugly it becomes.

In the end, he didn't dare to look at it anymore and directly lifted the ring on his finger. I recorded it quickly, and I was in a hurry, and when I was still a few shots, I suddenly heard movement from the basement.

His fingers quivered, and he quickly put everything back to its original state. Picked up the note he left behind and put it away, carefully erased the traces of his previous visit, and finally quietly pushed open the door and ran away.

In the blazing afternoon sun, Bart ran wildly, stumbling like a ghost, muttering to himself, "How is this possible, how is this possible, how is this possible......"

"-How is this possible?"-

"How is this possible?"

In her office, Ingmar looked at Barth's recorded footage with a grim face, comparing it with her own manuscript.

Over and over again, over and over again...... Each time he looked at it, his face became more and more ugly, until at last he overturned the table like crazy and yelled at Bart:

"How is this possible?!How could it be that I made a mistake?!"

An invisible storm enveloped the room, and everything trembled wildly, making a noise that was on the verge of shattering, until finally, they fell to the ground.

Bart stood in the corner, silent, not daring to make any sound.

He was only glad that he was a Revelation faction, and that he was not known for his destructive power, and if it was Yegor who was angry here today, I am afraid that the entire office would have been burned to ashes.

It wasn't until a long time later that Ingmar finally calmed down.

One last time, he turned page by page against his manuscript, and with each page he turned, the page shattered, silently falling apart, and sprinkled on Ingmar's robe like ashes after it had been burned.

Eventually, Ingmar seemed to sit in a miserable white ash, her hands empty, and her face was as pale as bones and ashes.

"It turns out that I really went the wrong way......"

He muttered in a low voice, his hands trembled, veins broke out on his forehead, and there was a cry in his voice: "Why am I wrong?

Why-"

Bart was stunned, he heard the heartbeat, it was his teacher's heartbeat, extremely loud, extremely low, like the sound of a drum.

The sound of the drum became more and more urgent, faster and faster, pulling him into it, as if he saw a rotating starry sky, but the starry sky was trembling wildly, extinguishing one by one.

Bart finally reacted, his face pale.

Heart sound collapse, which is a precursor to heart sound collapse.

He rushed forward and shook the teacher's shoulder vigorously to sober him up, but Ingmar was stunned and unresponsive. Eventually, a flash of determination flashed in Bart's eyes, and he gritted his teeth, grabbed Ingmar's palm, and slammed a sharp pen onto it.

Collapse!

The air burst suddenly.

His whole body was bounced up by the shock from Ingmar's body, and he slapped against the wall, his eyes went black, and he vomited a mouthful of blood, and his arm was broken.

The whole office was in shambles, and the police were loud in the school building. Everyone panicked, but soon, the alarm bell disappeared again.

Everything in the entire office was pulled back to its original place by an invisible force, broken vases were bridged, torn carpets were re-arranged, and powdered paintings on the walls resurfaced from the dust.

Everything was as if nothing had happened.

Only Ingmar sat in her place. His eyes came to his senses, and he was drenched in cold sweat. Not in the slightest pain from the nail of his palm to the table, he indifferently pulled out the pen nailed to the back of his hand. Glancing at Bart, Bart's broken bones continued, and he regained his senses.

Only now did he know what had just happened.

"Bart, you're a good student, if it weren't for you, I'm afraid I'd really be ...... by that guy Abraham"

He gritted his teeth. With a grim expression like a beast, he bandaged his palms with medicine, and finally put on a glove to cover up the wounds.

Bart was still palpitating, and stammered a few words in response.

"You told me that when you went to the music history department, you weren't discovered, right?" Ingmar's eyes flashed with a hint of determination and ruthlessness: "Are you sure?"

Bart was stunned for a moment, as if he understood something. His face grew paler. Under Ingmar's forced gaze, he finally nodded vigorously.

"Yes. No one knew I had been there......"

"Good. ”

Ingmar suddenly smiled, and on her pale face, that smile was full of incongruity and creepy: "Wait a minute, you come with me to the musicians' guild." ”

The speculation in Bart's mind was finally settled, and he looked terrified. "If they find out...... Will you give up?"

"You're still too young, Bart. Too young, too naïve......"

Ingmar raised the corner of her eyes, and the pupils could only carry a trace of pity and gloom:

This kind of thing, of course, who published it first. Who's it? ”――

In the middle of the night, a horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of the watch shop, and the visitor pushed the door open.

"Mr. Bayer?"

The blonde boy drinking tea in front of the window raised his eyes, revealing a look of surprise, "A guest of the Musicians' Guild?

You haven't been here since you took office, so what's the point of doing tonight?

Do you want to buy something?"

"Excuse me. Bayer waved his hand slightly and smiled wryly: "I can't afford Mr. Hermes's things." ”

"Tsk, don't say that. ”

Hermes shook his head, "I'm known for my cheap quality here, so if you look closely, you can always pick something you like." ”

"Actually, I took the liberty of coming here this time to ask Mr. Hermes to help me identify something. ”

He sat across from Hermes and slowly pushed a copy of the black folder over: "I think you might know something about this thing. ”

"Oh?"

Hermes raised his eyebrows, "Isn't there a way for that group of experts in your association to be sure? ”

Bayer smiled bitterly and shook his head: "Actually, the local association and the scholars of the Holy City have already turned their heads over this quarrel.

Before I left, they were still debating whether this thing was a good research achievement. ”

"Hmm, then I'll take a look at ...... Voynich Manuscript? It's been hundreds of years, and you're still trying to decipher it?"

Hermes lifted the folder, and quickly turned the pages with his palm, ten lines at a glance, not like a review, but as if confirming something, until finally, his eyes became more and more subtle.

"It's really ...... Because the road ahead is gone, have you restored the text from a strange direction? Although it is a deviant path, it has returned to the right direction.

Let me see who the author is...... Ingmar?"

His brow furrowed: "I've seen this guy, to be honest, I don't believe he has the courage to overturn the current theory and start over." Am I looking away?"

A flash of joy flashed in Bayer's eyes: "So, can you be sure it's true or not?"

"Tsk, of course it's true. Although the last place is obviously starting to crap, at least the direction is right. ”

Hermes threw the folder over unhappily: "Congratulations, you have found a new direction to talk nonsense for decades." Congratulations.

This time, you can pull that out again, knock it on, and celebrate.

But you ring the bell every New Year's Day, don't you bother? Why can't you change to a more elegant way?"

"Sir, don't be kidding, that's the Sage's Clock, so it's naturally different, right?"

Bayer laughed and said, "In contrast, the gate of heaven is the majesty of God, and naturally it cannot be easily revealed." ”

"Don't compare my work to that kind of rag. Hermes spat with disdain, looking extremely vulgar: "The clock of the sage......? It's pretty much the same. ”

He bit the words very vaguely, while Bayer, on the other side, pretended not to hear them, just put away the manuscript, and then paid a valuable honorarium and retired.

Hermes took his little thumb to open the pocket of the gratuity, glanced at the crystal-like thing in disgust, and shouted: "Bai Xi!"

"What did you call me for?"

Bai Xi, who was memorizing and copying musical scores, looked up from behind the counter unhappily.

"There is an old saying in the East: If the master has something, the disciple will obey it. The master doesn't like this thing now, you can take it back and grind your teeth for Lao Fei. ”

He threw those things into Bai Xi's arms, as if he thought of something, and suddenly realized, and immediately showed a strange smile.

"Oops, my horrible ability to associate is amazing. ”

He muttered to himself, "Looks like something fun is going to happen again?"

- Really...... Looking forward to it!" (To be continued......)