Chapter 1850: Chapter 1850

As he spoke, Jenkins clapped his hands, dusting the black residue to the floor. He addressed the photograph standing on the cabinet, where the man’s head swiveled on its axis in a grotesque motion and shook.

"Of course not. Did you think this was some kind of brain teaser? Since you can't solve it, you clearly have no talent for engineering. So come, join me. I can properly teach you all the knowledge you lack."

A pair of deathly pale hands shot out from the photograph, clutching the front of Jenkins's shirt.

But no matter how hard the hands pulled, Jenkins stood as still as a statue.

"What is this? Is the whole point of this maze-lock a recruitment drive for the Gear Artisans' Association?"

He muttered the guess to himself. Seeing that his captor was more interested in holding him than answering, he reached out and grasped the pale arm extending from the picture.

"May your soul find peace."

He offered the blessing with grave sincerity.

Flames instantly shot up the arm to the hand, then spread to the entire photograph. The picture ignited, burning with unnatural speed. The flickering fire cast shifting shadows across Jenkins’s face, but he simply stood and watched until it was nothing but ash before turning to head upstairs.

he muttered under his breath.

The stairs were clear of trouble. When he reached the second floor, he found not a hallway like the one in his own home, but a single, vast room. It had been partitioned with wooden boards into two sections: a bedroom on the inner side and a study on the outer. Judging by the titles on their spines, the books on the study’s shelves were all related to mechanics, most of which Jenkins had never seen before.

Each section had a single window, but both were covered with heavy, coarse curtains. He could hear the downpour outside, but very little light filtered through.

The oppressive darkness gave it the feel of a scene from a horror story. The cold air, the dampness, the sound of rain outside—Jenkins wouldn't have been surprised if a malevolent spirit materialized right then and there.

He scanned the room, his eyes tracing the spiritual light that permeated the space, searching for the point of greatest concentration. His gaze finally settled behind the study's desk, where a fourteen-year-old girl in a dress and a butterfly hair clip had appeared at some point without him noticing.

No matter how he looked at her, the young girl did not seem alive. The part of her right arm visible below her sleeve was made entirely of bronze-colored metal. The left half of her face resembled a metal plate covered in fine etchings, while the right half was still flesh, but as pale as a corpse.

And when his gaze met the eye on her human side, he saw no trace of humanity. Only a void.

Fini was also around thirteen or fourteen, but chronic malnutrition had left her much smaller than the girl before him. A wave of sadness washed over Jenkins as he looked at her, knowing he couldn't save her.

"My father's books were the enlightenment of my childhood."

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but the voice that emerged was no longer human. It came from her abdomen, and Jenkins had no desire to contemplate the mechanics of its production.

"I, too, was captivated by my father's books. Their rigorous knowledge, their ingeniously crafted designs, and the brilliant wisdom I couldn't grasp as a child—they all inspired me."

The girl rose into the air. Or more accurately, she was propelled upward by a jet of steam from beneath her dress, until she was at eye level with Jenkins. She was like an exquisite puppet—so exquisite it enraged him.

"That day, my father saw wisdom... That day, following my father's guidance, I, too, saw wisdom."

A book floated out from behind her, defying the laws of physics, and hovered in front of him. Jenkins took the book, titled *Mechanical Principles and Design (Volume I)*, but did not open it.

"Stranger, do you possess the courage to glimpse wisdom? Do you have the talent to obtain it?"

the girl asked. The corner of Jenkins's mouth twitched as he slowly shook his head.

"I don't know what this 'wisdom' you speak of is."

"Then open the book. If you can see the wisdom within, you may proceed. Otherwise, you will remain here with me and appreciate the fruits of wisdom that you lack the talent to touch."

The book had been altered by the maze-lock. It felt unnaturally heavy in his hands, and when he tried to open it, he discovered that many of its pages were a mix of ordinary paper and thin sheets of metal.

There was nothing extraordinary about the contents. Though Jenkins had little interest in such texts, he could tell that the knowledge within did not surpass the level of steam technology of the current era.

The moment he opened it, however, the power of the maze-lock descended upon him. He felt a malicious energy trying to transmute his skin into metal. It was similar to the effect of the black metal tower that transformed humans, but far weaker. Even if Jenkins did nothing, the maze-lock’s power was not strong enough to change him.

The book was about a hundred pages long and quite thick. With all the numbers and explanatory text accompanying the frequent illustrations, a thorough reading would require at least a day or two of sleepless concentration.

So Jenkins merely glanced at the , the foreword, and the introduction, flipped through a couple of pages at random, and then placed the book on the desk.

"Did you see the wisdom?"

"I did." Jenkins nodded, his mind racing. Was the girl before him a brainwashed cyborg, or a corpse that had been mechanized after death? Either way, it was an act of profound cruelty.

"Then explain the wisdom you saw."

As she spoke, the girl raised her metal right hand and pressed it against the right side of her face, which now appeared to be covered by a copper plate.

She pressed slowly, and Jenkins heard a soft creak. As her hand moved outward, the metal 'skin' on the right side of her face peeled away, revealing what lay beneath.

It was not the red, textured flesh of muscle, but something akin to the innards of a high-end mechanical watch. A dense, intricate mesh of gears, large and small, interlocked and driven by tiny chains.

The right half of her face was a cavity packed with miniaturized, functioning machinery. Some of the gears were even smaller than those Jenkins could produce with his [Mechanical Light] ability.

"Show me the wisdom you have seen. Fix this half of my face."

"What's wrong with your face?"

"It can't make any expressions."

Hearing this request, Jenkins glanced down at the copy of *Mechanical Principles and Design (Volume I)*, then back at the complex mechanical structure inside the lower half of the girl's head.

"I know the knowledge in this book is useful, but..."

He hesitated, picking up the book again. Forcing down the anger at the sight before him, he pretended to flip through it while his mind raced. *These cultists wouldn't have created a maze-lock just for fun. It takes even someone like Alexia a long time to set up such a large-scale ritual. And while this place is certainly dangerous, its true purpose doesn't seem to be killing every intruder. Otherwise, they wouldn't have these tests. They could have just made a few more of these gear-people from corpses and caused far more trouble. So, what is this all for?*

The special wrench that could repair machinery wasn't on him; he kept it hidden in his basement. After all, the wrench might be useful in repairing the Difference Engine, so there was no reason for him to carry it around everywhere. Besides, he couldn't risk someone discovering his connection to the Believers of Lies.

"So, I'll have to rely on myself to fix this."

He studied the girl's face. After a few dozen seconds, he knew it was impossible for him to repair it on his own. His situation was a bit like when those two women from the Witch's House had tried to force their way into Alexia's apartment, only to be stumped by the math problems at the door.

But those witches could pray to their so-called 'Mother Goddess's Shadow' for an answer. Jenkins couldn't pray to the Sage, because the Inherited Sage Church preached that knowledge must be acquired through one's own efforts.

"Does that mean I have to force my way through?"

He came to that conclusion, but before he acted, he took one last look at the mechanical structure inside her cheek. He recalled the unique sensation he'd experienced yesterday while repairing that ancient machine with Alexia. On impulse, he raised his hand and tapped her cheek.

The instant his bent finger touched her cheek, it turned completely bronze. The strange transformation tried to spread up to his wrist, but a green glow emanated from his arm, and his skin quickly returned to normal.

Jenkins narrowed his eyes. That single tap, though it made little sound, had sent a vibration through her that imprinted a crystal-clear image of her facial mechanics into his mind—including the tangled mess where flesh and machine intertwined in her cheek.

The mechanical structure was incredibly complex, but to Jenkins, it wasn't much more complicated than fine circuitry—at least, the parts he could perceive. The truly critical technology for a living, mechanized body would be its power source and the algorithms that maintained its vitality and intelligence, not the minute details of its structure. Thus, it wasn't entirely beyond his comprehension. Follow current novᴇls on NoveI(F)ire.net

That frustrating feeling, like having a sneeze you just can't let out, rose in his chest again. Jenkins suppressed it, emptied his mind, and listened to the rain falling outside. After a long moment, he spoke.

"I see now. I will use wisdom to repair you."

He took a sheet of white paper from the desk and, using [Psychography], laid out an exploded diagram of the mechanical structure he had just seen. He pointed out that one set of gears was the wrong size, causing the malfunction that prevented her face from showing expression. Finally, he drew a precise image of a gear of the correct dimensions.