madnovel Chapter 7 Academic Affairs Office
Chapter 7 Academic Affairs Office
"Safety measures?" Lucius pondered the word, asking in bewilderment:
"Officer Felix, is there some kind of hidden danger in becoming a Sequencer?"
Felix and the other two exchanged glances but did not answer his question.
"That's classified information," Felix replied calmly, his tone returning to its initial formulaic manner.
"I cannot reveal any more information to you before you have officially joined us."
Looking at Lucius's expression, perhaps out of consideration for a potential new member, he added:
"All I can tell you is that the sequence pathway doesn't just grant power; it also has its own...desires."
A brief silence fell over the office. Lucius leaned against the worktable, with three police officers standing opposite him.
His mind was a bit confused.
In less than a day since I transmigrated—to be precise, less than twelve hours after arriving in this world—more exciting and thrilling events have occurred than in an entire year of my previous life combined.
Secretly transmitted infection, occult diaries, sequencers... and now this "invitation" is placed before me.
Each of these issues alone would have given him enough time to ponder for a day or two, but now they were hurtling towards him like a runaway steam train.
Although in his previous life he was just a recent college graduate who was hit by a dump truck on his way to find a second job.
Outside the teaching and research room, the faint sound of the Hell River could be heard.
Lucius looked up at Felix again and said calmly, "May I think about it?"
He ultimately chose a delaying tactic, his rational mind needing time to process the overwhelming amount of information.
"No problem." Felix didn't show any disappointment; he even seemed to have expected this answer.
"Just give me a reply by Sunday. We have a lot of work to do and can't keep waiting for you, but if you decide to join, feel free to contact us anytime."
He glanced at Oliver and Miles, and the three of them walked toward the door of the teaching and research office.
At the door, Felix suddenly paused, turned around, took a small silver object from his pocket, and handed it to Lucius.
It was an epaulette, a six-pointed star with a flame symbol in the center.
He placed the epaulettes in Lucius's palm and explained in the tone of handing over an important item:
"Our address isn't at the police station. If you've made up your mind, go to St. Audrey's Church and find the old bishop there, Reiner Stuart. Show him this epaulette, and he'll tell you how to get to our base."
Lucius accepted the epaulettes, turned them over to look at the back, where a line of small Horn script was engraved:
"A craftsman can only achieve the highest level of skill by destroying the tools he cherishes most."
He watched the three figures walk further and further away until they disappeared at the end of the corridor of the History Department building.
"Why all the secrecy?" Lucius muttered to himself, carefully tucking the epaulettes into his inner pocket.
"Are you afraid someone will directly attack your headquarters?"
Lucius did not choose to return to the apartment. After leaving the research room, he turned left and walked along the path next to the Hull River until the end.
That's the building where the school's academic affairs office is located.
It is a red brick building, but taller than the history building, with a full six stories. It is one of the few modern buildings at East York University equipped with a new steam elevator.
The renovation was completed last year, attracting many professors to show off and students to watch.
Lucius remembered the first time the original owner rode that elevator, he was so frightened by the rumbling steam pistons and the trembling iron cage that he pressed his back against the carriage wall.
Students have already started interacting with each other at East York University.
On the stone path between the teaching buildings, several students wearing dark school robes hurriedly walked towards their classrooms with thick textbooks in their hands.
On the benches under the shade of the trees, groups of two or three classmates were looking down at each other's notes, occasionally letting out a sigh of frustration.
It's probably because I realized I missed an important test point that the professor casually mentioned in my notes.
With final exams approaching, even these usually lazy "lazybones" have to become diligent.
Lucius recalled that at the end of last semester, two students almost got into a fight in the library over a table by the window.
He walked through the crowd, unconsciously lowering his head, trying to avoid people who might recognize him.
The original owner's social circle in the history department was neither large nor small.
Several classmates who took the "Modern History of the Kingdom of Horn" course together, and a few familiar faces from the St. Audrey Church Relief Team.
He was in no mood to explain the Marcus research group's situation.
The lobby of the Academic Affairs Office building is paved with black and white diamond-shaped floor tiles. As soon as you enter, a smell mixed with old paper, ink, steam engine oil and cleaning agents hits you.
Lucius walked to the visitor registration window on the right side of the hall, a small cubicle embedded in the wall, behind which sat an elderly administrator wearing pince-nez glasses.
He gave his name and purpose through the glass. The other person flipped through a thick visitor registration book, finally found his name in a certain column, and nodded, saying:
"Andrews Anderson, Lucius Anderson, Executive Office, 4th Floor, Room 403, Ms. Ruth Croft was in the office this morning."
Lucius nodded his thanks and walked toward the steam elevator.
He pulled the lever in front of the iron gate, and a stream of white steam hissed out of the pipe. The elevator rumbled down from the fourth floor, and the iron cage cast square shadows under the lobby lights.
He went into the cage, closed the gate, and pressed the brass button on the fourth floor.
The steam engine started up again, and the huge piston made a dull rumble on the inside of the wall. The entire iron cage trembled slightly and then slowly rose.
Through the gaps in the iron bars, he could see the corridors of each floor gliding past him, one by one.
People on the second floor were chatting and drinking coffee in the corridor, while on the third floor, a teaching assistant carrying a stack of papers was frantically picking up parchment that had fallen to the ground.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. Lucius opened the gate and walked out, down the corridor to the end.
The corridor was carpeted in deep red, and oil portraits of past principals hung on the walls.
The door to Room 403 was ajar, and a brass plaque on the door read "Administrative Office - Director of Academic Affairs".
Knock, knock, knock. He lightly knocked on the half-closed door with his fingers.
"Please come in." A woman's voice came from inside the door, her voice efficient and concise, carrying an undisguised sense of busyness.
He pushed open the door and entered; Ruth Croft, the Dean of Academic Affairs, was sitting behind a large desk.
She was a woman in her forties, with her brown hair neatly styled into a bun at the back of her head, and wearing a dark blue turtleneck uniform.
A silver badge of East York University was pinned to his collar, featuring open books and a burning torch.
The desktop was piled high with all sorts of documents, forms, and letters, almost burying her completely.
She looked up at Lucius, her gaze sweeping over him for a second through her half-moon spectacles.
He's a student. And the kind who's in trouble.
Ruth made her judgment, then lowered her head again to continue working on the documents on the table, her quill pen writing incessantly.
She spoke so fast it was like a machine gun; clearly, she had dealt with so many similar situations lately that she had developed an automated response system.
"What can I do for you? If you're here to appeal your grades, please have a seat for a while."
"All the students who have come to me these past few days are appealing their final grades." She didn't give Lucius a chance to interrupt, her quill pen continuing to move across the paper:
"You always have all sorts of excuses: the professor was biased, you were sick on the day of the exam, your pen broke while you were answering the questions..."
They're all excuses, just ways to cover up their neglect of their studies.
She finished writing the last stroke, stamped the end of the document with a snap, and then placed it on the stack of completed documents that was already piled high on her right.