Chapter 2109: The Ultimate New World (Part 25)

Coulson walked down the steps, pretending to go to the table in the lobby's reception area to get a travel guide. He heard the man say to the front desk clerk, "Yes, I just rushed over from there... I didn't expect it to be here... That's right, it's really quite interesting..."

Because Coulson was a bit far away, the man's voice was intermittent, but from the pronunciation of the few words, he could hear that the other party might be a British person or had learned British English, and it was very likely that he was a scholar.

Would this be a professional invited by the town?

However, it wasn't very strange. After all, Canada was a Commonwealth country. Although it was the backyard of the United States from a geographical location, there were many people who had relatives in the UK.

Many Canadians, because their own high-latitude environment was relatively cold, yearned for the warm marine climate of Europe, would regularly go to Europe to study, vacation, or even settle in Europe, and had friends and classmates there.

Coulson heard the waiter's light laughter from there, knowing that they were chatting very happily. In order to figure out what the situation was, Coulson decided to get closer to listen.

Of course, this getting closer wasn't agent-style. The lobby wasn't big, and he couldn't hide his figure. It was better to walk over and talk openly. Coulson had great confidence in his approachability.

"Hello, sir, I just arrived too. May I ask, are you from New York?" Coulson walked to the front desk, turned sideways and leaned against the side of the front desk, smiled, and said.

"Yes, I just got off the plane." This man also smiled at Coulson and said, "I just finished a meeting in Hong Kong and rushed over in a hurry. The weather here is quite cold, right?"

"It's about to enter winter." The male waiter said with a smile while operating the computer, "Your clothes are only suitable for activities in the south, perhaps California, but definitely not Ontario. The winter here is not easy to pass."

"I thought New York was cold enough." Coulson pretended to sigh gloomily and said, "But the car just crossed the border, and I felt the wind blowing on the road was like a knife."

"American? Alright, every American I know is complaining about how cold it is here." The male waiter shrugged and said, "If you guys are willing to take off your floral jackets and beach shorts, maybe it will be better. This is not Xia Weiyi."

Coulson saw the black-haired man opposite him chuckle. This was the laugh of a bystander, which showed that he was neither an American nor a Canadian, and felt it was interesting when feeling the subtle confrontation atmosphere between the two sides.

Coulson immediately took the slope to get off the donkey, pretended to be dissatisfied, knocked on the table, and said, "This is the south of Canada! The travel guide says you guys are the Xia Weiyi of Canada!"

The waiter and several female room service staff standing behind all laughed. One of the brown-haired female waiters walked up and said, "Throw away the travel guide in your hand, Yankee. It also says Newfoundland is the Little Greece of the Americas."

"If you are pursuing warmth, perhaps you can go to a place with a lower latitude, Southern China, Singapore, Malaysia." Coulson heard the man open his mouth and say.

"Sorry, Phil Coulson." Coulson reached out his hand towards him and reported his name very naturally.

"Sohip, thank you." The man reached out his hand and shook hands with Coulson. Coulson could feel his fingertips were exceptionally cold, and his fingers were as thin and withered as tree branches.

When this feeling came, Coulson instinctively lowered his head and took a look. The man's hands were thin and dry, his bones and blood vessels were clearly visible, and he wore a retro thick silver ring on his middle finger, with strange patterns in the center.

"Doctor?" Coulson asked tentatively.

The man nodded and shook Coulson's hand again, saying, "History, and I also have some research on anthropology and folklore."

Coulson just wanted to continue asking something when he heard this doctor called Sohip say, "It seems you have had a bad day. I think you should go to rest early."

After speaking, he picked up his briefcase, took the room key handed to him by the waiter, and walked up the stairs.

Coulson turned his head to look at him. When he walked above the atrium on the second floor, he looked back and gave Coulson a smile.

"Have a good dream." Coulson heard him say so.

After he left, Coulson frowned slightly. He felt that the last sentence of this Dr. Sohip was pointing at something.

First of all, Coulson didn't show any negative emotions, and even behaved like an excited tourist coming to Canada for vacation. So the statement "had a bad day" sounded very much like a curse, which didn't look like a social way that a humanities scholar would adopt.

Coulson was, after all, an excellent agent who had worked for many years. He had dealt with all kinds of experts. Although there were some stereotypes, it was indeed the experts in science and engineering who would appear shy, timid, not good at words, and occasionally some could be called socially maladjusted, while experts in humanities and social sciences were mostly relatively gentle, cheerful, humorous, and relatively good at socializing.

If Coulson had to evaluate this historian called Sohip, the words he would use should be mysterious and strange.

Every sentence of his seemed to hide some metaphors, but thinking about it carefully, he felt there were no clues that could be grasped.

Perhaps his "bad day" just referred to the rushing and fatigue brought by the long journey. This wasn't completely unreasonable.

The most exhausting part of a trip was the journey. Knowing that Coulson had just arrived, saying that he had experienced a bad day in the process of arriving here wasn't impossible.

As for resting well and having a good dream, they were even more common polite blessings, but Coulson felt something was wrong no matter how he thought about it.

Just then, Coulson thought, what did he just say he had research on? Folklore and anthropology?

To be honest, even in Coulson's long career as a S. H. I. E. L. D. agent, he had never seen scholars in these two fields. Who would study a discipline called anthropology? Other than becoming an anthropologist, what other way out did this discipline have?

After letting his imagination run wild for a while, Coulson began to chat with the waiter, with the purpose of understanding the situation around, to see if he could obtain any intelligence about paranormal phenomena.

After chatting for about half an hour, seeing that it was getting late, Coulson made an excuse to go upstairs to rest, and organized the information obtained from chatting with the waiter in his mind.

Theoretically speaking, a paranormal event breaking out in an area was actually beneficial to the tourism industry, because this would attract many paranormal phenomenon enthusiasts to explore here. Many unknown small places would also gain public attention because of famous paranormal events, and there was no lack of politicians who made both fame and fortune from this.

But Niagara Falls itself was a famous tourist attraction. It could not only attract tourists from Canada and the United States, but also many tourists from Asia and Europe who traveled thousands of miles to sightsee, so it didn't lack human traffic.

The nature of this paranormal event was special, manifested as a state of fog, and this fog would greatly affect visibility. It had been foggy for several days in a row, not only were the tourists on the Maple Leaf Avenue, which was coming to the end of the maple leaf season, complaining that they couldn't see the scenery in the distance at all, but tourists who had already visited Niagara Falls also said the scenery wasn't as good as before.

No one knew how long this situation would last. If it continued like this and turned into a long-term climate change, then the reputation of the natural beauty of Niagara Falls could be considered ruined.

After all, Canada was vast and sparsely populated, and there were no locals here. The nearest tourists also came from New York. People drove for several hours to come here, not to watch a piece of fog, let alone how disappointed those tourists who came by plane would be.

As soon as Coulson entered the room they booked, he found that the others were sitting around the bed watching TV. The TV was playing a typical two-party interview news program.

That was, the screen was divided into three frames. In the middle was the host sitting in the studio, on the left was the mayor of the town, and on the right was a climate expert.

Simmons handed Coulson a bottle of mineral water. She shook her head and said, "No useful information. The expert said this is a short-term climate change, but when the mayor asked when the change would pass, the expert couldn't give a definite answer, only saying that perhaps it would improve when the temperature drops next time."

The interviews with local citizens were varied. Some said they saw ghosts in the fog, some said they saw monsters as high as a mountain, some said this fog was waste gas emitted by surrounding factories, and some said it was the prelude to the return of the undersea civilization to land.

"Just interviewed a paranormal enthusiast." Fitz added, "He said this kind of fog is a paranormal field, a curse from the Indians thousands of years ago."

"Alright, Indians again." May shook her head and said, "All the paranormal events that happened on your American continent are blamed on the Indians. Can I say this is a guilty conscience?"

"Don't be too sharp, May." Coulson sat on the chair in the room and said, "Have you heard of folklorists and anthropologists?"

"What?" Fitz said somewhat confusedly.

"I have heard of anthropology." Simmons nodded and said, "This is a comprehensive discipline that covers many categories, including sociology, psychology, and other humanities knowledge. By the way, it also includes archaeology."

"You are a psychology doctor, right?" Coulson asked.

Simmons nodded and said, "I have dual doctoral degrees in psychology and sociology, but to be honest, the degree of intertwining and inclusion of humanities disciplines is very high, and almost no one studies isolated disciplines."

"Then folklore?"

"I have heard of it, but I don't know the relevant practitioners." Simmons shrugged and said, "But it is estimated that it is also a category under sociology and other humanities disciplines. Just find a sociologist."

"Do you want to find an expert in this area?" May asked.

Coulson immediately looked at her. May shrugged and said, "Don't you forget? My mother is a professor at the University of Hong Kong. The psychology and sociology of the University of Hong Kong are very famous. More importantly, my mother has a colleague who specializes in East Asian folklore. I remember telling you guys when we told ghost stories at the last gathering."

Coulson showed a sudden realization expression. He remembered that it seemed there was indeed such a thing, and then he remembered that the doctor called Sohip said he just came from Hong Kong.

"Can you contact the folklorist you know?"

"I can call my mother to ask, but I'm not sure if he has any understanding of the folklore history of the Americas, and he is very old, I'm afraid he can't come to participate in the on-site investigation."

"You help me ask." Coulson rested one hand on the bed, leaned forward, and said, "Does he know a historian called Sohip."

May nodded, took out her phone, and wanted to make a call, but just then, the few people in the room found that it was foggy outside the window. ===== CHAPTER 2110 =====