Chapter 333: The Essence and True Meaning of Magic!

"So, the magic trick at the British Museum was like this too?"

Wesley asked impatiently.

Pinkman smiled and said, "I have said it before, Detective. The true secret of magic is never on the stage. It is in the darkness between the audience's eyes and the stage. You are police officers; your eyes are accustomed to staring at criminals. But that guy is no ordinary criminal. You use eyes that stare at criminals to stare at him, and what you see will always be what he wants you to see. And what he wants you to see is never real. Let me show you something else."

As he spoke, Pinkman waved his cane and walked out of the vault.

He said as he walked, "The British Museum case is much more complex than the one in Las Vegas, but the principles of the two magic tricks are no different."

As he finished speaking, the large screen behind the stage suddenly lit up.

A photo appeared on the screen: the British Museum's Huaxia Guan, Room 33, the display case where the Admonitions of the Court Instructress originally resided.

The time the photo was taken was clearly after closing; there were no visitors in the exhibition hall, only the indicator lights of the constant temperature and humidity system blinking with a faint green glow.

"This is the surveillance footage from the British Museum after closing one night before Chu Chen's performance," Pinkman said. "This photo was taken at 7:42 PM London time. Everyone, remember this time."

While speaking, he pressed the remote control again to switch the screen to the second photo.

"This photo is the surveillance footage from the same time and same location the following day. Can you tell what is different?"

After Pinkman finished speaking, Wesley and all the members of the Expert Group cast their gazes toward the large screen, attempting to find the differences in the second photo.

Before long, Shui Ge spoke up first: "I see it, the noise in these two photos is different!"

Hearing Shui Ge say this, Pinkman smiled: "Correct."

"Noise? Why would that be?" Wesley looked at him and asked.

"Because someone swapped the items and tampered with the surveillance, that is why."

"You mean the Admonitions of the Court Instructress in the second photo is fake?" Wesley asked in surprise.

Pinkman nodded: "Yes. At first, I didn't believe it either, but a hacker friend of mine told me that this surveillance footage was indeed tampered with. His methods were very clever; even the museum's Technical Department didn't discover any anomalies."

"So, you mean he had already stolen those cultural relics before the official performance?!" Liu Xuemin said.

"That's right, that is how it is."

"How is this possible?" Li Changyu was also somewhat puzzled by this.

"Nothing is impossible, Professor. Before I decoded it for you, weren't you equally unable to imagine how he robbed the bank vault from a distance?" Pinkman retorted.

"Everything you see on stage is an already arranged result. When the magician walks onto the stage, the dove is already in the sleeve, the playing cards are already in the hidden compartment, and the assistant is already in position in the secret space. The 'happening' the audience sees is merely the unveiling of 'what has already happened'."

Pinkman put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head slightly, looking at the Expert Group.

His gaze lingered on each person's face for a moment, as if confirming whether they were following his train of thought.

Pinkman's voice was as calm as a windless lake: "He is a very excellent magician. And an excellent magician knows this ironclad rule—the audience will only see what you want them to see. If you want them to see you steal an item in public, they will stare at your hands. Your hands are doing something flashy, while the real thing has already been done in a place you cannot see."

Just as he finished speaking, Zhuang Yan asked: "Then how did those cultural relics disappear from the display case? Even if he swapped the genuine articles for replicas in advance, the replicas in the display case should still be there. But what we saw from the live broadcast in Russell Square was—the display case suddenly became empty. The replicas were gone too."

"Good question." Pinkman turned around and clapped his hands toward the darkness at the side of the stage.

Before long, a young assistant walked out from the side of the stage, wearing a black T-shirt and dark cargo pants, pushing a display case with wheels.

The display case was rectangular with glass on four sides, white metal frames at the top and bottom, and a blue-and-white porcelain vase placed on the display stand inside.

The dimensions of the display case were not exactly the same as the standard ones at the British Museum, but the basic principles were the same—glass panels, metal frames, spotlights at the top, and ventilation holes for the constant humidity system at the bottom.

Pinkman walked to the side of the display case and pulled a dark blanket from his pocket. The blanket was not large, about a meter square, black, and looked very ordinary, like the kind of prop blanket you could buy at a magic shop for twenty pounds.

He unfolded the blanket, gave it a shake, and showed it to everyone.

"How about it, no problems, right?"

Everyone nodded one after another.

Immediately after, he gently covered the display case with the blanket, the black fabric draping down and covering the entire display case tightly, leaving only the wheels at the bottom and a small section of the metal frame exposed.

"Everyone, the next moment is the moment to witness a miracle."

As he spoke, he raised his right hand, fingers spread, with the back of his hand facing the Expert Group.

His fingers were slender, his knuckles distinct, and his fingernails were trimmed very neatly.

These were a magician's hands.

The next second, he curled his thumb and middle finger, the pads of the two fingers pressed together.

"Remember what I said? The magic of a magic trick is not in the magician's hands. It is between your eyes and your brain."

"Snap."

After a finger snap, Pinkman reached out, grabbed a corner of the blanket, and gave it a sharp flick.

The black blanket unfolded in the air like a giant bat spreading its wings, then slowly and silently landed on the floor at his feet.

The display case was still in its original spot.

But the blue-and-white porcelain vase inside was gone!

Looking at the surprised crowd, Pinkman's face was full of a somewhat smug smile.

Immediately after, he picked the blanket up from the floor, gave it a shake, folded it into a neat square, and tucked it under his arm.

Then he pulled open a small door on the side of the display case.

Everyone was looking at that small door.

But the inside of the door was empty.

There were no mechanical devices, no hidden passages, and no space that could allow a blue-and-white porcelain vase to pass through.

"How was this done?" Zhou Yun suddenly asked.

Pinkman smiled: "There are at least dozens of ways to achieve this magic trick."

As he finished speaking, he had the female assistant bring over an identical porcelain vase and placed it in front of everyone.

"Your eyes have deceived you again. This is not a porcelain vase at all, but a magic prop made of a special material. You only need a remote control, and the vibration system under the display case will shake the Nitrocellulose at the top of the case onto the magic prop, causing a miraculous combustion reaction with flammable substances like nitrogen—no smoke, no ash, no residue."

"This is the principle of this magic trick; this is not magic, nor is it a superpower. It is just a magician's sleight of hand! And this is the essence and true meaning of magic!"