Silent Crown

Chapter 243 No Comment

Chapter 243 No Comment

The waiter lit the silver lights. The crystal chandeliers shone above, illuminating the silent venue. No one whispered. The room was not very spacious and it was packed. Most of the people were qualified academics or curious nobles, as well as a number of newspaper reporters who came from all over the place to get first-hand news. Those men wore caps and sat in the front row with notebooks and pens. They were excited and gestured to each other, scribbling notes onto their notebooks.

Seeing the audience, Sergey on the council grunted. After all, this was a disgrace to the academic community. No matter who was wrong, it was still a great storm if news spread. As one of the famous masters of academia, he naturally did not like tabloid presses.

There were only five people sitting on the panel. They were Barthélémy, the ancient language scholar from Burgundy; Sergey, the researcher of ancient folklore from the Prophet’s Tower; Heisenberg, a researcher of ancient music from the Rock Institute; Mr. Hu, an oriental scholar from the Sacred City; and finally, Lola Caput, the local researcher of Anglo who studied the history of the Dark Ages.

Whether it was status or seniority, the five people were all eligible to make a ruling on behalf of the academic community. The crown prince who represented the royal family, and Archbishop Mephistopheles, who represented the church, would be the notary public to confirm the fairness of the result.

The bells from the distant Elizabeth Tower could be heard vaguely through the thick walls. The muffled chime of the bell formally announced the start of the appraisal. Both doors opened and representatives of both sides formally entered the venue, causing a low murmur. At last, they took seats on the left and right sides opposite the panel. They looked serious and did not communicate with each other, acting as if the other did not exist.

But obviously, even though he had high possibility of winning, Ingmar still did not look well. Once he stepped foot inside, it would always be a stain on a scholar's career no matter what the final outcome was.

Abraham, who had no interest in this, remained silent and emotionless. One could not survive solely on reputation and so it was meaningless to him.

-

After a brief announcement, the several members spent ten minutes to finish reading the documents submitted by both sides. They also read the proceedings and antecedents handed by the Union and the school. At the end, they all frowned involuntarily in silence.

No one spoke.

"Who is the first?" the bald old man, Sergey, suddenly asked.

He looked around at his companions. Barthélémy was silent, Mr. Heisenberg still had a cold face as if nothing could disturb him, and Mr. Hu from the East was in a daze. As for Lola, she just smiled and looked at him. There was everything yet nothing in her eyes, as if something was unutterable and indescribable.

"After all these years, you're all still so fussy," Sergey grunted. Among the five, he had the worst temper and definitely could not stand these matters. The most annoying things to him included plagiarism and impersonation. There he was the most impatient one.

"I’ll do this." He picked up the briefing on the side, roughly skimmed it, and then looked up and said, "Then, the appraisal council will officially begin. First, may Mr. Ingmar come up please?"

Ingmar stood up slowly, stood behind the speaker’s podium with a smile, and graciously greeted the committee. Unfortunately, this did not mean anything to Sergey.

"Mr. Ingmar, next I have a few questions about your personal resume. Don’t be nervous and just answer truthfully." Sergey paused and his expression became cold. "But bear in mind that you’d better tell no lie here. This is for your own sake."

"I understand, Mr. Sergey." Ingmar nodded. His expression was neither arrogant nor too humble. He even smiled as if he did not feel any pressure at all. He had already practiced this part. He would never make any mistakes no matter what questions would be asked.

"When did you begin to study ancient literature?"

"Twenty-four years ago," Ingmar replied immediately after counting. "I entered the Royal Academy of Music at that time and met my teacher there, the former mentor of the School of Revelations. From then on, my teacher guided me. Three years later, I graduated as a formal musician and have been working on related research since then."

"What are your main achievements?" Sergey asked routinely, though he actually knew the answer very well.

"The highest achievements include Induction of Anglo’s Historical Legends; Exploring the Origins of Human Development from Ballads of the Dark Age; and Inquiry on the Origin of Ancient Avalon, completed with my teacher." Ingmar paused for a moment. He glanced at Abraham subtly and replied with a smile, "And the interpretation of the Voynich Manuscript."

There was a sudden murmur throughout the hall. Abraham was still expressionless but the two young men besides him looked very furious. This was a real provocation!

"If we look past the controversies, that is." Sergey said lightly, "Please give a brief introduction about the school that you inherit, its major music theory, and its direction of interpretation."

"As we all know, I am a professor of the School of Revelations at the Royal Academy of Music. The school that I inherit is Ancient Anglo Revelations, also known as the Purple School. The major direction of music theory..."

Sergey continued to ask questions from the committee seat. His questions were meticulous and harsh; he interrogated about even the smallest of flaws in Ingmar’s reply until a reasonable explanation was given. Soon, Ingmar's back was covered with a cold sweat, despite his preparations. He felt a little exhausted.

He could only thank himself for always being very cautions on his records. Otherwise, Sergey’s queries could possibly expose his Achilles heel.

But below the platform, seeing Ingmar’s faint awkwardness, Ye Qingxuan did not feel any pleasure. Instead, he was worried. The problem had arrived. He sighed softly and looked at Abraham with worry. If they would delve so deeply, then Abraham’s record would probably be very problematic.

Even a blind man could tell that there were many large blanks and ambiguous parts in his resume. It would raise doubts. Later, Abraham would face ten times more difficulties than Ingmar.

Ye Qingxuan exhaled irritability and looked to the platform.

The situation was very bad.

Among the five judges, he had heard about Sergey's temper long before. He was basically a container of dynamite—he was easily provoked. He could not get along with anyone other than in academia. He was always a lone ranger wherever he went. He was definitely the most unbiased from that point of view, and he would never bear any flaws.

But it was worse—he was grumpy and stubborn. If his judgment led him to make the wrong choice, he would follow it to the end. No one would be able to pull him back.

Of the rest, Ye Qingxuan was least worried about Lola. He believed that with the adultery between him and this sister...Ah, no, with the 'mutual trust' between them, she would still vote for him even if his enemy was the queen.

Seeing as Ye Qingxuan was her mobile blood bank and treasure box, she had to help. Otherwise, there was really no justice in this world! But the rest were really tough.

To his knowledge, master Barthélémy had always distanced himself from dispute and refused to participate in any fights. Master Heisenberg was far away at the Rock Institute. Though he had many academic achievements, he was isolated after his inheritance of his school, and so was more difficult to deal with.

Mr. Hu, who was said to be from the East... God only knew whether he would recall when Ye Qingxuan had once helped him with directions. Moreover, he did not even hide his extreme pleasure. He was definitely just an audience member who came for the show.

While he was deep in thought, the most nervous part finally came.

"Please come up, Mr. Abraham." Sergey, seeing Abraham standing behind the speaker, asked harshly, "Can you guarantee that every word you going to say is the truth?"

"I promise, sir." Abraham's answer was straightforward and non-imposing, but his expression was still dull. He just stood behind the speaker’s podium, waiting for the questions.

After the commissioners skimmed the biographical notes submitted by Abraham, their expressions suddenly became complex as they began to whisper to each other.

"This is practically a piece of white paper." Sergey slammed the resume on the table and said quietly, "There's almost nothing on it. With all due respect, this thing is wasting our time."

The other members, other than Mr. Hu who was spacing out, all agreed. It was not that they were impatient; it was just that Abraham's resume was too simple.

The most considerate, Barthélémy, thought for a moment. Thinking of that letter for himself, he grew serious and sighed. "In this case, just ask the questions. It’ll be cleared up somehow."

Master Heisenberg, who had been resting his eyes, suddenly opened his mouth. "I don't think so." His face was as cold and chilling. "If he wanted to lie, he could possibly manage to deceive us. Perhaps we should put an end to this farce as soon as possible."

"We should finish this part at least, even if it’s just routine work," Lola who was always silent suddenly said. She was only around twenty-years-old and was especially conspicuous in the group whose average age was over forty. "I think it's better to ask first," she suggested. "If there’s anything confusing, we can just ask him to give more proof, how’s that?"

"It seems that that is the only solution," Sergey huffed coldly. He glanced at the resume in hand again and looked up to Abraham. "Mr. Abraham, you were a soldier, weren't you?"

Abraham nodded.

"As far as we know, in the military, you only had three months of musical training." Sergey frowned. "What did you learn during those three months?"

"..." Abraham was silent for a long time and then asked softly, "Can you ask another question?"

Everyone was stunned.

This was the first question that had been rejected today. No one had ever refused to answer a question from the members of the council at the appraisal so directly. And it was such a simple question!

Below the platform, the reporters were shocked and immediately began recording excitedly. It seemed that dozens of wonderful headlines had already been drafted.

Hearing Abraham's words, even Sergey, who tried to be patient for once, could not help but be infuriated. Was it necessary to refuse to answer such a question?

His expression turned cold and he glared at Abraham for a long time, but Abraham was still expressionless. After a long pause, Sergey asked again, "Who is your teacher?"

The answer was still silence. The discussions in the hall gradually became noisier until Sergey pounded his gavel. "Silence! Do you refuse to answer this question too, Mr. Abraham?" He looked to Abraham with obvious anger.

"Sorry." Abraham sighed and looked bitter and helpless. "Unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Department, I cannot answer."

"Cannot answer?"

The audience was again in an uproar and even the commissioners were startled.

"…"

The Fourth Division was a division of the governmental system after centuries of evolution.

The First Division included all administrative organs of Anglo, such as commercial business, tax management, and so on. They were the foundation of the kingdom's administrative system management.

The Second Division included the police force, epidemic prevention, fire protection, and so on. It was an indispensable part for the kingdom.

The Third Division was agriculture, education, land, population survey, and more. It was in charge managing the people's livelihood.

As for the Fourth Division, it was a war department. Combining the army, logistics, weapons forging, the destructive technical research, it was in charge of all acts of violence and active defense of the armed forces.

It was what ordinary people called the 'military.’ It was said that there was also a Fifth Division, but no one had ever directly acknowledged its existence.

"I Cannot answer."

Hearing his professor’s reply, Ye Qingxuan slapped his forehead, covered his face and sighed. He suddenly wanted to die. His worst nightmare had come true!

No one knew how many strict confidential agreements Abraham had signed with the military. Abraham did not even have a photo of himself as a youth. Fortunately, Abraham had submitted a resume certificate from the military and managed to account for the past.

After a brief discussion of the commissioners, Sergey forced down his anger and asked, "Mr. Abraham, according to the Union’s investigation, you had thirty-one years of military history before you entered the Royal Academy of Music, but your resume says that when you were only forty-two-years-old when you were discharged. So exactly how old were you when you enlisted?"

"Sorry," Abraham replied woodenly. "Unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division, I cannot answer."

Sergey's face turned livid. Emotions battled on his face fascinatingly. After a long while, he gritted his teeth and asked, "As far as I know, your birth information is not complete. You claim to be the son of a gardener, but according to the Union's investigation, there are no local gardeners and there is no Wilson family. Can you explain this?"

"Sorry, unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division, I cannot answer."

Sergey’s expression was pained as if he had a toothache. "Is this confidential too?"

"Sorry, unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division, I cannot answer."

"What are the military designations that you served?"

"Sorry, unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division, I cannot answer."

"What about the last year before you retired?" Sergey was totally outraged. "Your resume says that you were locked in the Tower Green because of some significant punishment. Can you not answer this either?!"

Abraham was still numb and everyone could guess his answer. "Sorry, unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division, I cannot answer."

"Enough is enough, Mr. Abraham!" Sergey furiously banged the gavel in his hand. "Who is your immediate superior? I believe the Union can receive permission... "

"I'm sorry." Abraham sighed. "Unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division, I cannot answer."

"What else can you say other than ‘I cannot answer’?!"

"Sorry, unless you, uh..." Abraham realized halfway through his sentence and sighed powerlessly. He could say a lot, actually, but why did they only ask what he could not answer? He asked tentatively, "Why don't you ask something else? I taught three very talented students, they are... "

"Enough!" Heisenberg, who had been indifferent this entire time, interrupted him. He fixed his cold eyes upon Abraham and said in an extremely serious voice, "Mr. Abraham, do you think that since the Fourth Division is a shield allowing you to act so recklessly? You should know that the Musician’s Union has special-purpose phone lines with all Anglo's major departments."

"Sorry." Abraham shook his head.

"Somebody get me the Fourth Division! I want to see Abraham's detailed file!" Sergey squeezed from clenched teeth. "I'd like to see what else he can't say!"

Soon, the Modifications musicians outside managed to directly contact uptown’s military office through an underground cable. On the other end of the line, a gentle female voice said, "Hello, this is the sixth receptionist, do you have an appointment?"

"Hello, Madam," Sergey said coldly. "This is the Musician’s Union. We need to check the history of a citizen."

Soon, after a simple confirmation, the soft and sweet voice asked, "Please provide us the registration number and name you need to check."

Sergey glanced at Abraham. Seeing his still-numb expression, he huffed and reported the information on his resume.

The call disconnected instantly.

Everyone was stunned and bewildered.

Then, after a few busy signals, the call was connected again. This time the sweet female voice was gone, replaced by an indifferent and wizened voice.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"This is the Musician’s Union—"

Sergey was interrupted before he could finish his words by a cold machine-like and monotone voice, "I'm sorry. Whatever you want to ask, we cannot answer unless you have the approval and written permission of the Fourth Division."

"Dammit!" Sergey was stunned and immediately became furious. "This is the Musician’s Union!"

"I'm sorry, unless you have the permission from the Fourth Division..." the cold voice repeated.

"We have members of the royal family as witnesses! We have the Church’s recognition!" Sergey growled. "Do you know who I am?! I am—"

"—otherwise we cannot answer."

The line ended; only a busy tone could be heard. An awkward busy tone.

In the awkward atmosphere, everyone looked at each other in silence and embarrassment. In the end, they all looked to the royal family behind the curtain. Soon, a note was sent out from it. After reading, those council members’ expressions changed until they grew helpless.

"Uh, let’s skip this part." Barthélémy could not help but cough a little. "At least, now no one doubts that he is a member of the Fourth Division."

Sergey's face was gloomy. He grunted without saying a word.

The room was silent.