XIX. Just Like Young Fellow Students

Since the Northern Prison riot,

ten years had passed.

Those who were confined in that relentless cold of Eternal Night Frost were not only the unfortunate souls sentenced to hard labor but also notorious criminals whose names could silence crying children, and even more so, the notorious old guns from the underground world of the Western Continent.

Terror Sanctum, also known as Little Northern Prison,

due to its branching out into two new disciplines for many students from the Magic Medicine Department: New Pharmacology and New Trauma Science.

The progress in medicine on the Western Continent owed its greatest achievements to the prisoners within these walls.

It was hard to imagine how, even without steam engines and lacking precise instruments,

they managed to conceptualize nerves, endocrine systems, immune functions, and even genetic concepts through sheer exhaustive methods, using the most brutal means of trial and error.

Of course, the so-called genes differed vastly from the modern understanding, often serving more to bolster the lineage narratives of the ruling classes of the Western Continent.

All the medicines, lacking any foundational logic or principles of pathology, were discovered through a method of trial and error, screening patients with similar symptoms and then… eventually compiled into a comprehensive medical encyclopedia.

Of course, the desperately poor peasants still resorted to the old, dark methods of consulting almanacs, bloodletting, and drinking holy water, while the cutting-edge medical standards suitable for nobles and wealthy merchants, with tablets and even antibiotics derived from plant extracts, had reached the level of the early twentieth century in terms of treatment success rates.

It had to be said that Mika's family had great foresight in recognizing the trend of the times, spending a fortune on hiring female home tutors from New Pharmacology and New Trauma Science, enabling Mika to earn respect as a scholar in the local community despite lacking formal academic credentials, even managing to hold a decent official position within the Aran Empire, where officials were known for their corruption. Unfortunately, life is unpredictable, and Mika ended up in such a situation.

When Liszt had nearly died from an axe wound to the head and first met Mika, he was shocked by the level of medical knowledge in this world still lit by oil lamps and candles. Mika knew the concept of iodine, even its preparation methods; he mentioned it was extracted from seaweed using solvents from New Pharmacology, effective for disinfecting wounds and preventing infections.

Liszt was utterly astounded—Mika was a top-notch talent, a must-have for their team.

And now,

the shock Liszt felt reading this newspaper was akin to when Mika first introduced iodine.

Ten years after the Northern Prison riot,

if not according to the Saint Aran Calendar but using the twelve-month calendar, it would be more than thirteen years.

Liszt could never have imagined

that he would meet a former schoolmate again in such a way, heralding the dawn of a new era.

The school Liszt attended, where he and other students visited a research institute together, mostly comprised engineering students, meaning they possessed strong practical application skills.

"What kind of major news has turned you into an idiot?" Archer asked, seeing Liszt sweat profusely for the first time since they were chased by several naval ships.

Reeking of alcohol, he leaned in to look at the newspaper.

"A carriage that runs on iron rails, without horses?"

Archer, looking at the front page of the newspaper, was also extremely puzzled. The copy indeed described it as such: a horseless carriage, but is there a horse? A carriage, does it have horses? A carriage, not pulled by horses, how can it still be called a carriage?

This brought a hearty laugh out of Archer, drinking his spirits and thoroughly enjoying the absurd information as a delightful accompaniment to his drink. The newspaper's editor should quit their job, he could do better while high—it was such nonsense.

Only Liszt understood the gravity of the situation. Due to the lack of photography and limitations in printing technology, the newspaper published by the adventurer's guild contained no photos, just simple but expressive line drawings by professional artists, who were of a legendary caliber, almost ninety-nine percent accurate whether capturing people's portraits or other images.

If not for the accompanying text, Liszt might not have connected the drawing on the front page to his former classmate. It wasn't strange to see someone who looked highly similar, but with the mention of the steam train, it was a certainty.

Creating a steam train wasn't as simple as understanding the basic principles of combustion engines; it involved the technology of steelmaking and the ability to manufacture components like steam cylinders and bearings in a workshop.

The mathematical models also included boiler heated surface area, the coefficient of adhesion between wheels and tracks, and the relationship between adhesion traction.

Even with many theoretical elements complete, it was only possible to theoretically manage freight and passenger transport.

Because of dealings with religious and conservative forces on the Western Continent, various interests entangled, and party struggles, it was countless times more difficult to obtain funding than all the academic conditions mentioned above.

To actually invest labor in production and operation was not on the same dimension as just having a brainstorm.

Liszt also understood the reason.

"Century News! The world's first railway has been put into use, a freight train from Aran Imperial City to Chenxi Port has departed and successfully returned! How does a horseless carriage run..."

The front page news also introduced various advantages of the train, but there was no introduction to any driving principle; it was all about creating momentum for the Aran Empire. The most ridiculous part is that the train needed the blessing of the Eternal and Time Dragon to run properly; in any case, the imperial might was unmatched. There were also portraits of two train operators.

One was a former classmate of his, and the other was a face he had seen in the Northern Prison and could never forget—the apprentice of that formidable magician.

Liszt fully realized that he was not considering hunting anymore; during his time in the big prison, what that magician did was not like this, even knowing that these people from different planes had relatively fresh knowledge.

The magician's capabilities were unimaginable. In that "Great Soul Summoning," not only people from Earth participated—many came from other dimensional planes as well.

There was only one possibility: he had turned traitor and would help the magician hunt down these few hundred people, to achieve the magician's undisclosed, sinister purpose.

If there truly were personified gods, the magician's skills... could definitely be considered... divine.

Liszt hated that when he was studying in North America, he had spent his time either playing games or "Glory for the Country," intensely engaging with local female college students and beach bikini beauties.

Moreover, his specialty in applied optics was too niche and cutting-edge; in this place, it hardly shone at all. However, it wasn't entirely useless; with a spare parts workshop, he could actually put together a camera. But who on the Western Continent cares for photography? If he developed a camera, with high-definition crime archives, the fugitive pirates at Heaven Port would find him and hang him publicly as a warning to all.

Because of his long time mingling in tough circles, what Liszt hated most were traitors and snitches.

If he met this person again, he definitely wouldn't reminisce about their old school days. He would greet him straight to the head with the "Frost Rhododendron Blood-crying."

Thinking about it carefully, this seemed like a student unexposed to the world with low psychological endurance, who could be forced to do anything under torture.

But thinking more deeply, this guy was now also over thirty years old; straight to the "Noxus Guillotine" with the "Frost Rhododendron Blood-crying," not until five cuts accumulate full Blood Rage then a fierce stab.

"You've made it big, now a court astrologer, train operator, a big shot, huh."

Liszt tore the newspaper in half and then crumpled it into a ball.

Archer knew that Liszt could be a bit neurotic sometimes and didn't mind it.

"Still drinking here? In a few days nukes will be flying over."

Liszt snatched Archer's bottle and threw it on the floor, smashing it to pieces.

But Archer was already deep into his cycle of cooking, killing, drinking, and sleeping, and he was already quite drunk.

"Ah, what nuke, Brother Sha is here, a single slash and it's done, what's to worry about?"

Archer was now so drunk that he started belching.

Liszt was speechless, Brother Sha might really not be able to handle this stuff, and who knows if the Netherworld Stele could hold up.

But producing it in a few days was a bit exaggerated; these college students were just playing around. They couldn't churn out anything more impressive, even if there were geniuses in the research institute and indeed able to mobilize massive resources, survey and manufacture mining cars, various supporting projects piled up; even with many charms combined, it would still take at least ten or twenty years.

"Damn, it's really changing times, must find a solid backer quickly."

Liszt, originally not very interested in the major projects of Lord Londen City, began to hope for a successful push, no matter what, he must find a major power to cling to and climb up.