"Father!"

A shout that tore through the dream was accompanied by a "pop!" sound of heavy objects falling, as if someone had accidentally touched something on the side in their sleep. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

In this catacomb-like space, some funerary objects that have been buried for many years have accumulated a strong stale atmosphere over time. As the heavy objects continued to fall, a dead ash aura continued to roll in the air, as if they had finally had a chance to move.

It is a large windowless room on all four sides, and the walls on three sides are lined with old books that have taken dozens or even hundreds of years to accumulate. In this room made of black stone, there are rows of long wooden tables about the same age as the books.

The old wooden desk was lit up with a not-so-bright brass lantern, and the flickering firelight reflected a slender figure and the countless remnants of the books displayed on the table. Not only the prints that have been ubiquitous in recent years, but also the almost antique manuscripts are haphazardly placed on long tables, and some scrolls that look like they are about to fall apart are stored in boxes on the side.

An unsettling silence almost completely enveloped the room filled with books, and only the occasional crashing sound made the space seem less lonely. This one-person job position leaves him without any opportunity to talk to his colleagues, and the man in the long trench coat focuses on his work.

Under the orange light of the lantern, he seemed to be bent over by the thick darkness, and his thin side face also looked strangely deep because of the interplay of light and shadow. Although he looked like a young man in his late twenties, the excessive gloom made him a little old.

He was the same Frick who had just woken up from his nightmare, and he still looked like he hadn't been able to come back to reality from his sleep. As his head swayed from side to side, a chain with a silver pendant dangled from his neck, reflecting a dim glow in the faint light of the flickering lantern.

On his left chest is a gray metal tablet, which looks like an unfolded scroll, which undoubtedly indicates that the bearer is a scrivener, and the three books with a different background color prove that he has the position of a third-level scrivener in the northern border of the empire.

Frick Sierra Leone, the second underground librarian - his name and position are stamped in the center of the metal plaque, and even in the shadowy room there is a faint silver glow. It is a symbol of his status and a sign of personal authority.

If the sorcerer is the researcher, then the scrivener is the recorder, the sorcerer's goal is often to explore the concepts and phenomena hidden in the world, and the scrivener's job is to identify things and record them—but the organization of books is the focus of their daily work.

In the Empire, the scribes were almost exclusively professionals in the service of the great libraries, and after years or even decades of naturalist studies, those who decided to devote their lives to the recording and dissemination of knowledge would join the scrivener corps, dealing with the complex bibliography according to the classification of different disciplines.

Here is the Great Library of Perm, on the northern border of the empire, where a huge number of books are housed in this gray building. The number of books in this room alone is probably already a number that ordinary people may not be able to browse for years, and there are dozens of similar rooms in the big library, and no genius can imagine being able to browse through this list.

It's boring and boring, but Frick Sierra Leone enjoys the job – he'd rather spend his days in the books than with people. Perhaps it was also for this reason that he took the initiative to ask the curator to take up this position.

As for today, I just took a random nap at work, but I didn't expect to dream of some old things.

After shaking his head slightly, he sat up slowly, and took a book lying next to his head in his hand. If his memory is correct, the book slammed into his head after accidentally touching the pile of books just now, and it still hurts faintly.

"Strange...... Could it be that the person who was sorting out the stacks of books accidentally got in while sorting them out?"

He remembered very well that the book was not on the to-do list, and that it looked slightly more dilapidated than the old volumes around it. On its title page, the title and author are written in neat strokes, apparently as distinct from the manuscripts of recent prints.

In the underground stacks full of old books, this book didn't seem too rare, after all, there were many more books that were much more damaged than it. However, it was not the first time in Frick's memory that he had seen the book appear in the pile of books he was about to organize.

It stands to reason that there are many editions of The Prisoner's Tragedy, which originally existed only in manuscripts, but it would be a little too abrupt for the library to include so many different editions in such a short period of time—not to mention that its title is not on the list.

Could it be that by chance? For some reason, Frick had a feeling that something was not quite right, but he couldn't organize them effectively in words. Almost subconsciously, he reached for the somewhat worn-out book, wanting to see its contents.

That's when ......

"Hey-Flick, did you make that move!"

I heard a loud shout from outside the door, and the door of the library was suddenly pushed open with a loud "pop!" sound. The next moment, a figure carrying a brass lantern appeared in front of the door leading to the basement floor of the library, and strode into the library.

The sudden sound almost startled Frick, who was furious and hurriedly threw The Prisoner aside. It wasn't until footsteps had already passed through several layers of bookshelves that he had time to turn his head to look at the person who had launched a "surprise attack" on him.

It was a scribe dressed in the same costume as Frick, who looked slightly older than him, and had a wonderful smile on his sun-tanned face. He was Frick's titular boss and one of the secretaries in charge of the library in charge...... Not very competent though.

But "incompetent" may be a little more tactful, and to put it mildly, he rarely shows up in the office and rarely interacts with Frick. As a result, Frick still doesn't remember his name, and he has no respect for him.

"Oh, what are you doing? You can't be dozing off during working hours, are you?"

He seemed to sense Flick's nervousness, and said half-jokingly: "You should know that although the work of the underground librarian is very idle, he casually lies on the table and takes a nap, according to the regulations of the management system, I have to deduct your salary." ”

As he said, although the underground librarian is an inconsequential job, sleeping during working hours is a clear violation of the management system. Although most colleagues with good relationships will turn a blind eye to each other, the other party as a superior cannot turn a blind eye.

"No...... I still know that, I just accidentally slipped my hand. Frick's face was a little embarrassed, after all, he couldn't deny that he had ever wanted to flip through the book, "You see, this 'Prisoner' is not on today's list, I suspect someone accidentally mixed it in." ”

So in order to prove that what he said was true, Flick had to hand the book in his hand to the other party, wanting him to see what to do. While there are already several different editions of the book in the treasury, and adding another one is not a problem, the fact that it does not exist on the list is the biggest problem.

"Oh, you mean you found a book that wasn't on the list among the books that needed to be sealed? That's a strange thing......" The older scrivener took the book from Frick's hand suspiciously, looking its old cover up and down suspiciously.

However, he soon lost interest in the book, placed it on his desk, and said to Frick, "Okay, I see, I'll take care of this in a moment." The curator is looking for you for something, you go to the bathroom to wash your face first, and then report there after you have sorted out your appearance and appearance...... As for the rest of the work here, I'll find a chance to help you out after I get my side done. ”

It's a rare kindness, but Frick feels a little abrupt...... The scribe was nominally his boss, but he didn't talk much about it. He had barely been in the basement to supervise the work in the past, and he was flattered to offer to help.

As you can imagine, this is a relatively urgent summoning order, and since it has reached the ears, it means that it must be carried out immediately. A wry smile appeared on his face, and in the face of the curator's summons, which was more important than "work", Flick still gave up thinking rationally.

Although there is still work to be done, since the other party has already said that he will solve the rest of the work for himself, then there is probably no problem. So he had no choice but to salute the scribe standing beside him, leave a sentence of "I know, I'll report to the director's office now" and left the underground library.

However, the inexplicable feeling of uneasiness still remained in his mind, as if his mind was still stuck in a dream, and there was an indescribable sticky feeling.