In a city under curfew, it wasn’t suitable for exploring outside. Duncan stayed in the antique shop all night. The excitement of being on land drove him to explore the entire building tirelessly.
The original owner of this body was indeed a cultist, but he was also an ordinary person who needed a normal social life. He relied on the conveniences of modern civilization to survive, needed to communicate with others, and required various daily necessities. He had to interact with the entire city.
All of this left behind many clues that allowed Duncan to roughly piece together how to survive in the city-state of Plande, as well as the general level of technology and living conditions of this era, even with his memories being unclear.
He found a small amount of cash in a hidden compartment behind the counter on the first floor. It included some loose coins and a few bills of different denominations. This was the legal currency commonly used in most city-states, certified and issued by the city-state governors and the Endless Sea Trading Company.
The main unit was called "Sola," with a secondary unit called "Peso," worth one-tenth of a Sola. The cash Duncan found totaled just over two hundred Solas, which, according to his memories, would be enough for a family of three to live in the lower city for about a month.
It seemed that even though the shop was struggling and most of the owner’s wealth had been donated to the church, the original owner of this body still maintained a basic standard of living. This indicated that the antique shop had a stable customer base.
The first floor of the shop had two main areas. Two-thirds of the space was the storefront at the front of the stairs, while the remaining third was a "warehouse" behind a small door at the back of the stairs. Behind the warehouse was another door, which should be the back entrance for deliveries.
The second floor was a bit more complex. Besides a washroom, there were two rooms, one large and one small, as well as a shared utility room with the adjacent building. The two rooms were located on either side of the staircase and were fairly clean.
Additionally, there was a small kitchen on the second floor, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in at least half a month, as everything was covered in dust.
After checking everything, Duncan returned to the main bedroom on the second floor. He looked at the room, which was even smaller than his own studio apartment, and his gaze fell on a small cabinet next to the bed.
There was a picture frame there, containing… a black-and-white photo.
The photo showed a family of three: a pair of simply dressed young adults with a little girl who looked about four or five years old. They stood in front of a clearly artificial garden setting, smiling gently as they looked toward the camera.
Duncan approached the frame, picked it up, and studied it closely, trying to match it with the fragmented memories in his mind.
The original owner of this body… was not in the photo.
The people in the photo seemed to be the family of this body… very close relatives.
As he gazed at the young couple, Duncan felt a faint sense of longing rising from the depths of his memory.
However, more information about this photo remained unclear. It seemed that any further memories of them had vanished from this world along with the last breath of the original owner of this body.
He put the photo down, pondering what kind of spending level a black-and-white photo like this would represent among the common folks in the lower city. He wondered how advanced photography technology had become in this world and what principles the equipment was based on.
At the same time, his eyes fell on the neatly made bed, and a hint of doubt arose in his mind.
Could a cultist who had completely fallen into the worship of the Sun God really have the time to keep the room this tidy?
The storefront on the first floor was clearly neglected, so how was the bed in this bedroom kept so immaculate?
He walked outside again and entered the smaller room across the stairs, noticing the same neat and clean bed and desk.
He sorted through the memories in his mind and confirmed that the original owner of this body had left the shop several days ago to attend a secret meeting of Sun God followers. That was the last time he had left, and the details were hazy, but there was no impression of having tidied up the room before leaving.
So… was there someone else?
Was there someone else living with this "cultist"? A family member?
Duncan frowned slightly as he searched for corresponding clues in his mind and approached the desk in the small room. His eyes scanned the neatly organized papers and stationery before landing on a book.
The book was in the most prominent spot on the desk, with a deep blue cover adorned with gears and linkages, and the title written in elegant cursive letters: "The Art of Steam and Gears – General Textbook III."
Duncan frowned. He had a vague sense that this room belonged to "another person," but he instinctively picked up the book.
On the Lost Homeland, there were no readable books available, and he hadn’t found a single piece of writing anywhere in the main bedroom or other parts of the shop. This book might help him understand things about this world.
As he opened the cover, illustrated pages came into view. This was indeed a "textbook" discussing engineering techniques and the principles of steam machinery, and between the textbook’s sections, he could see many notes left by the book's owner.
The fine, beautiful handwriting seemed to belong to a young woman.
Duncan rubbed his forehead. The original owner of this body seemed to have no relatives or friends. Most of the memories he had were colored with cold loneliness, but after several attempts to sort through his memories, he finally vaguely "recalled" someone… a girl with deep brown hair.
That seemed to be the only figure that a cultist named Ron thought of as he breathed his last.
Duncan's gaze fell back on the pages of the book. He didn’t bother trying to understand the technical terms and diagrams but focused on parts like the preface and conceptual discussions.
Suddenly, a line of text caught his eye:
"…Fire, or more strictly speaking, the specific flames released by burning fats from the deep sea and crystalline minerals from the near shore, are the cornerstone that supports the operation of modern society and protects our civilization…
"The prosperity and order of modern civilization are built on fire and steam… Clean and convenient electricity cannot replace the purifying effect of fire, nor can it keep large machines running steadily for long… Experiments have shown that steam is the most stable form of power when influenced by deep-space conditions…
"In this chapter, we will discuss three typical structures of steam cores and explain the mechanical principles and design ideas behind them…"
Duncan's gaze froze slightly.
He remembered the gas lamps, torches, and oil lamps he had seen everywhere in the sewers, as well as the gas street lamps on the city streets. He recalled the confusion he felt when he saw the electric lamp in the shop.
So it turned out… that these seemingly "strange" situations were due to such reasons?
Even with certain risks, they had to use open flame lighting in the sewers, and even with electricity having developed to a certain extent, they still used gas lamps for outdoor lighting. The reason was that "fire" could, to some extent, resist the spread of certain "dangerous and bizarre" things?
Duncan felt an indescribable emotion rising in his heart as he continued to read down the page, seeing complex diagrams, dense notes, and the serious comments left by the book's owner.
Those were machines he couldn’t comprehend at all.
And they were definitely not the "steam engines" he knew from his past life.
The precise gears, the extremely complex cylinders, and the connections and valves between various parts all far exceeded the concept of a steam engine. They resembled devices that had jumped out of some fantasy illustrations, exuding a contradictory yet bizarre beauty.
This was the "heart" that supported the civilization of this world today.
In deep thought, Duncan slowly placed the book back where it belonged.
Because he completely couldn’t understand it.
As a person from Earth, even though he had been a teacher, he couldn’t grasp what those highly developed steam-powered mechanisms were.
Yet even so, a vague realization began to surface in his heart:
The civilization of this world seemed to be on a path completely different from what he understood.
To survive in a world filled with crises, the realm of mortals had taken on a bizarre appearance. But no matter how strange the world was, as long as it could still be called "civilization," it must have its own reasons and logic for developing to this point.
Those gas lamps burning in the sewers, the electric lamps lit in the shop, and the steam mechanisms depicted in the book, all hinted at a kind of… resilience.
(End of Chapter)