Chapter 1 Duncan's Shopping Spree

Duncan was telling the truth – after saying goodbye to Shirley, he really did head to a shop near the Cross District to buy a bicycle for Nina.

He was also going to do something he'd been planning for a long time but had kept putting off due to various reasons: open an account for himself at the bank.

Inside the Prant City-State Bank, Duncan was waiting for the clerk at the counter to prepare the final form. The wait was boring, so he focused on observing his surroundings.

Perhaps because it wasn't a holiday, and because there weren't many citizens in the lower district who needed to do banking, the bank lobby, which wasn't very big to begin with, seemed quite deserted. Three of the five service windows were unoccupied, and the staff in black uniforms were chatting behind those idle windows. The bright electric lights shone on the counter glass, creating a lazy halo.

Duncan's gaze shifted upwards, and he saw that long cast-iron pipes extended from near the counters, reaching straight to the ceiling like slender pillars, arranged neatly overhead and extending to somewhere behind the lobby. A low, rhythmic clicking sound came from the floor beneath his feet, as if some kind of mechanical device was operating underground.

The clerk preparing the form finally confirmed the last item. She handed the form to Duncan, saying as a matter of routine, "Please sign at the bottom after confirming that everything is correct. Your account number and seal pattern are on top. The handling fee for an anonymous account is 6 Solas and 5 Pesos."

Duncan took the form, curiously looking at the contents, and spontaneously developed many guesses about this world's city-state civilization and economic system. However, he wasn't an expert in this field, so after pondering for a moment, he focused on the bottom of the form—after memorizing a short string of numbers, he signed his name and handed the form and the handling fee to the clerk.

The clerk took the form, glanced at it casually, and placed it on a punch card machine. With a light clicking sound, the machine punched a dazzling array of holes in the blank frame on the edge of the form. Then, the clerk rolled up the paper, put it in a metal tube, and threw it into a pipe next to the counter.

The sound of metal colliding was heard, followed by the hiss of pressurized steam and the sound of an object sliding quickly through the pipe. Duncan's gaze followed the sound upwards, and he saw one of the curved pipes connected to the ceiling vibrate slightly – the document had been sent to some distant place.

"Wait a moment," the clerk behind the counter said casually. "If the pipe isn't broken today, and the machine on the other end happens to be in good condition, you can get a receipt in half an hour—but if that faulty light next to it comes on, you'll have to come back tomorrow."

A wonderful process.

For Duncan, none of this was very efficient, but for this world, it was already an advanced achievement of the city-state civilization that had strived to develop since the arrival of the Deep Sea Era.

He looked at everything curiously and with emotion, while also hearing the clerks talking to each other—the young man behind the next counter was exclaiming, "I heard that the Academy of Truth is contacting the head office, saying they want to install a new machine that can increase the head office's processing efficiency several times over..."

"That's called a large differential engine—the Morkoth City-State Bank has been using them for a long time. There are actually some in Prant City, too. The tax bureau and the mathematics institute have a few smaller ones, and the cathedral has one, too. I heard it's used to manage archives," the clerk across from Duncan chimed in casually. "If you ask me, the head office is only thinking about this now. They're slow enough."

"It has nothing to do with us anyway," another idle clerk joined the chat. "That thing is expensive and bulky. Counting the steam core used as a power source and the matching punch card machine and analyzer, a set of differential engines could fill this entire lobby..."

"It is said that the Academy of Truth is also organizing people to research the next generation of differential engines? It seems that the volume can be reduced by half, the performance is similar to the current large machines, and it is driven by electricity…"

"Electricity? No steam core? What if the machine gets possessed while it's running? That thing has to constantly calculate a lot of data. Without the protection of sacred steam, it's too easy to attract evil spirits into the bearings and gear sets, right?"

"I don't know… maybe a priest has to stand next to it, and the priest has to light incense and say Mass for the machine while it's calculating…"

“…Then this doesn't feel like miniaturization has saved anything. Instead, it takes up an extra clergyman."

"Hey, how much space does a priest take up? How much space does half a differential engine take up? How expensive is the housing price in the city center…"

It seemed that no matter what world you were in, people's idle chatter during work was equally unrestrained. The topics of several bank clerks quickly shifted from differential engines to the city-state's housing prices. But on the other hand, what they were chatting about was so novel and interesting to Duncan—he listened with fascination, and even forgot the boredom of waiting.

But this idle chat didn't last long. With a clang from a nearby transmission pipe, everyone's topic of "which is more expensive, housing prices or priests" was finally interrupted.

The clerk across from Duncan opened the copper pipe next to the counter and took out the metal tube inside—this metal tube was obviously not the same type as the one that had been sent away before. It looked thicker, and the seal had a complex locking structure. The clerk fiddled with it for a while with a special tool before opening the lid and taking out the contents.

It was a rectangular metal plate only half a palm big, with letters and symbols stamped on it. The edges also had randomly arranged, differently sized holes. The string of numbers that Duncan had just memorized was printed on one end of the metal plate.

"This is your seal card," the clerk handed the metal plate to Duncan. "It can be used in any bank in the Prant City-State, or any Endless Sea Merchant Association bank in other city-states—but there will be a delay of three to seven days for deposit and withdrawal transactions in other city-states. This is the time for transoceanic telegraphs or spirit world communication."

"Thank you." Duncan took the metal plate, looking at this creation that seemed to represent the technological level of the city-state civilization with great curiosity. His eyes scanned the fine holes, and he noticed the machine used to read this metal plate on the bank counter.

These technological creations, which were completely different from those on Earth but equally represented the wisdom of the world, were the 'footprints' of the city-state civilization of the Deep Sea Era that had come to this day.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" the inquiry came from behind the counter.

"Ah… no, thank you," Duncan woke up from his thoughts. He showed a smile, got up from his chair, but before leaving, he seemed to suddenly remember something, and couldn't help but stop and casually asked, "By the way… can machines really get possessed?"

"Of course they can, what's so strange about that?" the clerk replied immediately, as if this was a question that didn't need to be considered at all for her. "Everything in this world except the subspace can be polluted. Isn't that common sense?"

Duncan was stunned. He had just asked casually, but the other party's answer somehow touched his thoughts, making him feel a glimmer of light in his heart.

After a moment, he nodded lightly: “…Indeed, everything in this world except the subspace can be polluted."

Then he left the bank.

According to plan, he still had a big shopping trip to make today—in addition to buying a bicycle for Nina, his shopping list also had a pile of things that could scare Nina out of her wits.

The income from selling the dagger to old Mr. Morris before, plus the reward for reporting the cultists, was enough to support a family of three in the lower district without worry for a year or two. And now most of that money hasn't been touched yet, and Duncan thought it was time to put it to use.

So in the next half day, Duncan almost swept through the markets and shops near the Cross District.

At about four o'clock in the afternoon, in the shadows of a street near the Cross District, Duncan put the last package on the ground with a 'thump' and breathed a long sigh of relief.

He looked at the mountain of stuff piled up in front of him with satisfaction.

Flour. Vegetables, seeds, spices, fresh meat, marinated ingredients, various dried goods and mushrooms, wine—and cheese.

Edible, normal cheese that was younger than him.

In addition, there were even a large pile of pots and pans and many things that "Duncan thought might be useful." If these things were transported to the ship, the living environment of the Vanishing Sea would definitely undergo earth-shattering changes.

At the very least, the kitchen could reliably produce human food.

Duncan nodded with satisfaction and casually called out, "Aye!"

The sound of flapping wings came from above the nearby buildings, and Aye landed steadily on his shoulder.

The next second, the pigeon looked at the things on the ground and exclaimed in shock, "Are you messing with this old one!"

Before he could finish speaking, the bird tilted and fell straight to the ground—although Duncan hadn't told it what to do yet, this guy had obviously realized his situation with great intelligence.

Duncan just smiled and caught the pigeon that was free-falling in mid-air: "It's okay, if you can't carry it all back at once, you can carry it a few more times…"