This Spiritual Energy is Lethal!
Chapter 403: Coffee Shop Anecdote

Chapter 403: Chapter 403: Coffee Shop Anecdote

"You mentioned a college just now, what is that place?" Chen Ke interjected at this moment.

"It’s Langdon University College, sir. It’s near Gower Street," the coachman replied.

"London University...? What does Chen Ke need to find in the university?" Chen Ke asked, puzzled.

"We don’t need to know what he’s looking for, just make sure he doesn’t find it, and if he does, we take it from him," Xu Jing said, giving Chen Ke a look that brooked no argument.

"I didn’t mean anything by it, I just want to make sure this thing won’t cause any trouble while I’m dealing with him," Chen Ke leaned back in his chair.

"I know, I never planned to let you face him alone. I’ll be with you the whole time here," Xu Jing smiled.

"So... how shall we address... this gentleman?" the burly man looked at Chen Ke.

"He is also called Chen Ke, but to avoid any confusion during later actions, I think we can give him a nickname," Xu Jing said.

Chen Ke wanted to object, as being renamed was quite annoying, but Xu Jing’s reasoning was sound, so he reluctantly agreed.

"How about calling him Klein? It’s easy to remember," a man in a grey sweater with a beard suggested.

Chen Ke shook his head, not liking the name.

"I think Watt is good, or Newton," another person offered a different opinion.

"No, no..." Chen Ke waved his hand dismissively, finding these two names too weighty—one opened the era of the Industrial Revolution and the other was a renowned physicist.

"Milton? Manchester? Chelsea? William?" Everyone started discussing boisterously, giving it a bit of a café vibe.

"Alright, alright... call me Lin Mo, I’m not very fond of Western names," Chen Ke sighed.

"Lin Mo? Does this name have any meaning?" Xu Jing asked.

"None, it’s just something casual," Chen Ke spread his hands.

"Okay, we’ll call you Lin Mo, that way we can distinguish you from Chen Ke," the coachman laughed.

Xu Jing looked at the coachman and nodded. The latter pulled a cloth bag from under the table and placed it on the table; from the sound of it, it was clear it contained metal objects.

"What is this?" Chen Ke asked.

"This is your weapon in this reality," Xu Jing said.

She opened the cloth bag and took out four items: a steel-gray revolver, a sheathed small dagger, two small boxes of bullets, and a gun belt with holsters.

Xu Jing held the barrel and handed the handle end to Chen Ke. Chen Ke took the revolver, trying to spin out the cylinder to check it, but found that the cylinder was locked onto the frame.

"This is an 1842 military revolver. Ingram’s army-issue weapon, and it can load five bullets. Each time you reload, you have to peel off the cylinder cover’s clip and dump each casing out from the back," Xu Jing explained.

"Fuck... that’s too much trouble," Chen Ke complained while searching for the clip behind the cylinder. He spun the cylinder, finding it somewhat tight.

"You need to cock the hammer first... then the cylinder can rotate. Get used to it, Assassin," Xu Jing smiled.

The others laughed along, seemingly unsuspecting that Chen Ke wouldn’t be familiar with handling this revolver.

"I’ve shot revolvers before, but I’ve never seen one like this, where you have to empty each bullet one by one and then reload. How slow is that?" Chen Ke shook his head.

He held the revolver and aimed at the ceiling, surprised to find that this gun didn’t even have sights; the barrel was just a bare iron tube, so it seemed you had to rely purely on feeling when shooting.

"What do the guns look like where you’re from?" the coachman asked curiously.

"I have one on me, but Miss Xu Jing wouldn’t let me take it out. Otherwise, I’d really love to show you what a real gun is," Chen Ke chuckled.

Everyone was itching with curiosity, but knowing the foundation’s rules, they could only sigh in their hearts.

"There’s nothing to boast about, Chen Ke. Once this matter is over, you can show me any kind of gun, but be clear, the rules I mentioned are very important," Xu Jing said sternly, leaning on the table with one hand as she fixed Chen Ke with a firm gaze.

"You call the shots," Chen Ke said, not interested in arguing, as he picked up his belt and looked at it.

"Get dressed properly, everyone. Thank you for providing the information. Please continue with your work. Lin Mo and I are planning to visit London University College to see if we can find some clues," Xu Jing said.

Chen Ke fastened his belt and flipped open the cylinder of his revolver, stuffing in five bullets before sliding the gun into its holster, which did not conflict with the one he was already wearing on his back.

Finally, he pocketed the remaining bullets and tucked a small dagger into his pants pocket before standing.

"Sir, sir! You can’t go up there!"

At this moment, the sound of footsteps, thudding down the stairway, and the frantic calls of the barista could be heard.

"I like the seats by the window upstairs, Jonathan, and I don’t think your café’s second floor would be fully occupied so early."

With those words, a hale and hearty old man clutching a newspaper made his way upstairs.

He sported an exaggerated beard and a side-part hairstyle, a receding hairline, dressed in a neatly tailored black suit, clearly a man of means.

All eyes on the second floor turned to the old man, faces tensed, hands resting on hidden items behind their coats.

The old man was not alone; he had brought four companions, young and old alike, all of whom looked well-off.

"Oh, look, there are indeed guests upstairs. Should we find another café?" A young man, upon seeing Chen Ke and the others, spoke with a look of disdain to the old man.

"Don’t panic, young brother. Look what I’ve found. A table with eight people, seven men and one woman, and even two Asians? Hmm... No coffee ordered, and there’s an empty cloth bag on the table..." The old man twiddled his beard, looking much like some clueless detective from detective novels.

"Charles, could you not pick another time to come?" The barista also hurried upstairs, his face flushed as he looked towards Xu Jing.

"Oh, my dear Jonathan, it seems your café doesn’t just entertain my little secret group, but perhaps... hides even bigger secrets!" The old man, laughing, looked at Jonathan the barista with a knowing smile.

"Charles, it’s not what you think, they’re just discussing business," Jonathan explained.

"Oh, what kind of business requires booking the entire second floor of a café?" the old man, now identified as Charles, said with a chuckle.

Why is this old prick staring at me? Chen Ke swallowed hard.

"Good morning, everyone. What brings us together in this modest café on this pleasant morning? I’m curious," Charles smiled.

"We don’t have time to chat with an old man, so... since you want to sit by this window, we’ll let you have it," Xu Jing said at that moment, signaling everyone to get ready to leave.

"Oh! What an impolite lady! How can you interrupt someone like that when he’s talking to the man behind you?" one of Charles’s younger companions exclaimed.

"Oh, Andre, don’t be so harsh on the lady. After all, she has decided to give us their seats," Charles said.

Xu Jing was taken aback.

"In fact... she’s our leader," Chen Ke corrected.

"Hmm... so you’re in an employment relationship? I almost thought you were a couple," Charles shrugged.

"Let’s go, Lin Mo, we have business to attend to," Xu Jing shook her head, pulling Chen Ke downstairs.

"If you weren’t in a hurry, I wouldn’t mind treating you to a cup of coffee, maybe even have a nice chat," Charles smiled.

Chen Ke and the others left the café without a word.

Charles opened the window on the second floor, watched the group leave, gently shook his head, then motioned for his companions to sit at the table.

"Gentlemen, let’s recover from that little interruption and share some of the odd rumors lately," Charles said.

"Yes, yes... There have been plenty of rumors about London University College... Do you really think there have been supernatural events there, Mr. Dickens?" An old man with a goatee beard looked at Charles, pulling a stack of newsletters from his coat.

Charles Dickens sorted the newsletters on the table into a particular order and then pinched his goatee.

"This matter is worth investigating, gentlemen. I know a pair of siblings who might be willing to take a look," Charles Dickens said.