Chapter 191: Entrustment

Chapter 191: Entrustment

West Borough, Calpensa Hotel.

Fors helped Lawrence into his room and eased him down onto the bed.

It was a relatively luxurious hotel. Except for the washroom, every part of the room was covered in thick, soft, grayish-yellow carpet, while the walls were hung with reproductions of famous oil paintings.

Lawrence caught his breath and said, “Thank you, Miss Wall. Please forgive a dying man for being unable to bow.”

“No, Mr. Lawrence. Your condition has eased. As a former practicing physician, I can tell you without any doubt that you can still survive. Once you rest a little, we’ll go to a clinic or a hospital,” Fors comforted him.

Lawrence smiled. “I know my own physical condition very well. You don’t need to comfort me. Besides, as a hobby, I am an astrologer. I have already foreseen that I will die in Backlund, in this very hotel.”

Apart from the surface embellishment, everything he said was true. He was already nearly eighty, no longer the sturdy, energetic young man he had once been. If not for the enhancement to his physical constitution brought by his Sequence potion, he might already have been buried in some cemetery.

Originally, Lawrence had believed he could live another ten years. Who could have expected that he would encounter the rebellion stirred up by the former Traveler, Botis, and suffer fairly severe injuries at the hands of the Aurora Order? The remaining descendants of his family had all died in that disaster as well.

This struck him with enormous force, nearly preventing him from recovering at all. After that, his journey to Backlund in search of his two brothers and their descendants had yielded only the result that they had long since passed away, inflicting yet another wound upon his spirit.

With all those things added together, Lawrence clearly felt that his life had reached its end.

His original plan had been to visit the graves of Lauro and Anlisa one more time and offer them flowers, then immediately return to meet the other members of the family council and make arrangements for what came after. But the condition of an old person was such that, once it failed, it failed very quickly.

Before Fors could speak, Lawrence struggled to take a palm-sized notebook from the inner pocket of his half-open clothes.

The hard paper cover of the notebook was copper-green, giving it an extremely ancient feel.

On its surface, a line was written in ancient Feysac:

“I came, I saw, I recorded.”

Lawrence placed the notebook on the blanket over his chest, inhaled, and said, “Miss Wall, if I die here, could you help me deliver it to Pritz Harbor?”

“Mr. Lawrence, nothing will happen to you,” Fors emphasized.

At the same time, she subconsciously glanced at the notebook and discovered that it was not thick. It contained three kinds of paper. One type was a parched, brittle-looking scorched yellow, and there were very few sheets of it. One was yellow-brown parchment, of which there was a moderate amount. The last was ordinary white paper, which made up the majority.

Lawrence smiled with difficulty and said, “I’m saying if, Miss Wall. Will you help?”

“Pritz Harbor isn’t far. It hardly counts as travel. If it’s urgent, with the steam train, I can even make a round trip in half a day.” Fors nodded.

Lawrence let out a breath. His spirits seemed to recover a little.

“After I die, wait ten minutes. Then take a glowing object from my corpse and deliver it together with this notebook to Dorian Gray of the Fishermen’s Association in Pritz Harbor. My wallet, and the 42 pounds in cash inside it, are my payment and thanks to you. As for these clothes of mine, let them accompany me into ash.”

“No. You don’t need to give me anything. No, nothing will happen to you, Mr. Lawrence,” Fors said sincerely.

Lawrence seemed not to hear what she was saying. He muttered to himself, “Perhaps Dorian will give you some additional reward, but that will depend on your own thoughts… I trust you. From…