It seems that the road to modification is a bit difficult...
Ed sat at his desk with a frown on his face, his left leg in plaster resting on another chair. The desk was covered with draft paper and design drawings.
After defeating the remnants of the Nirvana Order, the "Emperor's Blood" accumulated in the underground reservoir was safely controlled by the Divine Adjustment Bureau.
After a small sample was collected for reporting and internal research, the remaining fuel was handed over to the Royal Society for detoxification, and the Silvermist branches of both parties experienced a rare reprieve.
It stands to reason that this matter has little to do with Ed, but there are also several jars of "Emperor's Blood" buried in the Silver Knight's treasure room, so Ed has made up his mind about it——
If these relics can be transformed into incendiary bombs, they will definitely come in handy at critical moments.
For this reason, he specially restored this dark purple colloidal fuel through dreams. After testing, only 50 ml of the emperor's blood can cause a powerful deflagration within a 10-meter radius, and can stick to the target surface and burn for a long time. The effect is similar to an upgraded version of the thermite rifle.
This kind of power is much greater than the "Cremation" secret text used by extraordinary people of the same level.
His original idea was to first consult the relevant incendiary bomb design drawings from the difference engine in the Crow's Nest Building, and then replace the internal incendiary charge with the emperor's blood.
However, for incendiary bombs, which can easily cause chain reactions in urban areas, the equipment team of the Divine Bureau did not invest much energy in research and development. In the end, all he obtained were a few military version derivatives.
And here's the problem - in order to ensure the power, the conventional hand-thrown whale oil incendiary bomb weighs one kilogram. If Ed charges according to the same capacity, it will become a suicide weapon with a detonation radius larger than the throwing radius.
Well, anyway, the oil tank won't grow legs and slip away anyway. Maybe the Royal Society will have some solution...
He put down the pencil in his hand and turned the coins in his right hand, thinking about whether there was a chance to get in touch with the Royal Society.
"Huh? What are you doing sitting here?"
Quinn opened the door, her coat draped over her right shoulder, looking dusty.
"Nothing." Ed put away the information on the table and dragged the files aside. "The report on the Nirvana Order's affairs has not been finished yet. I have to hand it in before the weekend."
Compared with those thrilling life and death battles, these boring but necessary paperwork are more likely to cause fatigue.
"I just saw it. There is a letter for you in the mailbox." She raised her hand and pinched the corner of the back of the envelope and said.
Will someone send me a letter?
This is strange. The letters I usually receive are all addressed to Mr. Eaton.
"Who wrote it?"
Ed reflexively raised his head and asked, but all he got was a blank stare from Quinn.
That's right... Ed stretched out his hand and coughed, "Wait, how did you know it was sent to me?"
"It has the smell of women's perfume. I smelled it on you when we first met."
Women's perfume? Is it Miss Catalina?
He took the thick and straight kraft paper envelope, which was neatly sealed with wax. Nowadays, except for formal occasions, few people send letters like this. Glue is a cheaper and more convenient option.
The imprint on the fire paint is naturally the crest of the Oakland family, "The Sword in the Trees." He gently came to the envelope like a chemist smelling a test tube. There was indeed a faint scent of iris-based perfume on it. It must have been the perfume on his sleeves that got on it when he wrote the letter.
Thinking about it carefully, Catalina's handkerchief does have a similar scent. Quinn can always remember such trivial clues. He is truly worthy of being a hound of the Bureau...
Ed carefully opened the envelope with a knife, and inside was an invitation.
To my faithful friend Mr. Edgar Waikolo:
In order to celebrate my 18th birthday, a banquet will be held at the Ostermin Hotel at seven o'clock in the evening on April 22 to entertain all my relatives and friends. We look forward to your visit.
Your friend Catalina Oakland
Fortunately, he is a "loyal friend" and not a "loyal attendant". Putting down the letter, Ed sighed.
"So what is written in the letter? Judging from the emotion on your face, could it be a love letter?"
Quinn sneered coldly from the side.
"It's a birthday party."
He didn't mind going to show his support and eat and drink. It's just that with his current lame appearance, limping to the banquet with a cane, he looked like a troublemaker.
"Are you going?"
"Let's talk about it...provided I can remove this cast next week."
Ed folded the invitation and stuffed it back into the envelope, put it aside, and continued to fill out the mission report.
Even if the self-healing ability of extraordinary people is far beyond that of ordinary people, injuries to muscles and bones are not easy to recover from. Except for Quinn, of course.
"Oh, by the way, how do you fill in your name here? I can't figure out whether Quinn is your first or last name."
"Name." Quinn's mouth drooped, as if she was squeezing out toothpaste as she reluctantly answered.
"What about your last name?" Ed's pen stopped midway.
For the purpose of protecting privacy, the personal files of team members will generally not be made public except for special circumstances such as background checks.
Therefore, he knew very little about the identities and backgrounds of other members of the East Area team. After all, most of the members here had a past that they could not look back on.
Except for Ed himself. In a sense, he may be considered the luckiest one in the team to be able to forget the past completely.
"See for yourself."
She took out her coat of arms from inside her coat and threw it on the table. Ed reached out and took it, and saw her full name engraved on the back:
Quinn Forrester.
Forrest, isn't that Ms. Olivia's last name?
So the two of them are sisters?
Ed glanced at Quinn secretly and compared it with Ms. Olivia in his mind. Except for the color of their hair, there is probably nothing that can be called "similar" between the two people.
You know, even Mr. Eaton and Father Dylan have many similarities in facial features, and even some micro-expressions and unconscious movements are surprisingly similar.
Looking at the unhappy attitude on Quinn's face, and thinking back to that day when Quinn in black wolf form ran desperately in the direction of Ms. Olivia, I'm afraid there is also a big gap between the two.
Is it a tradition of the Divine Bureau to have discord between brothers (sisters)...?
