Chapter 228: The Hobby of Archaeology

"Miss Frances, good morning." Kraft gave a slight nod, then decided to return the greeting after a moment's thought.

The delay made it seem socially awkward and slightly rude, like the attitude of an absent-minded, stubborn old scholar immersed in academia toward a junior.

Yet the lady of the Turquoise Family did not mind, nor did she pretend not to notice; she maintained her earlier familiarity, "You also seem the type devoted to scholarship, uninterested in social banquets and trivial etiquette."

"People like that often go further, since craftsmen polishing gems have no time for anything else."

She said this with a natural, easy expression, showing no trace of deliberate flattery.

Beyond social skills, Kraft noticed she seemed aware of his recent movements at the clinic—something even the Academy had only learned after receiving letters about the treatment of tuberculosis with artificial pneumothorax.

The Higo family, or perhaps Frances Galat Higo herself, was likely the kind of person with sharp instincts, broad and timely sources of information.

"Thank you for the invitation. The chance to understand the current limits of instrument craftsmanship is vital, since tool improvement is the foundation of progress." Kraft's gaze flickered across the small display tables; perhaps one of the instruments here had been commissioned, but none bore labels.

"It sounds like you know quite a few people in the Academy? I always thought the Academy was a rather closed circle."

"Business always requires wide connections. To be honest, once you get to know them, you'll find collaborating with the Academy is a good choice—you rarely encounter a truly foolish person."

Frances readjusted her hat, shielding her eyes from the slightly glaring sunlight; beneath the brim adorned with tiny transparent beads, her gaze drifted away from Kraft for a moment.

"Not necessarily. The more intelligent they are, the more they enjoy using clever methods to do foolish things."

"Sorry, though it sounds strange, this… is rather charming." Frances covered her mouth, letting out a soft, tinkling laugh.

If you knew what they'd actually done, it wouldn't be charming at all, Kraft thought.

"If possible, could you introduce me to the Higo family's achievements?"

"Of course, I'd be delighted."

The two walked toward the scattered display tables on the lawn. In a corner far from the center, he soon encountered his first acquaintance here.

Lecturer Viren stood alone beside a table holding several metal instruments shaped like pliers, holding one up to his wrist, mimicking its use. Seeing it was Kraft, he happily offered the brass pliers.

"Professor Kraft, look at this—they actually modified it exactly as we requested—bent the head, added serrations. This should be far more useful than a simple clamp."

Kraft took it and examined it, surprised to recognize in this object the prototype of the hemostatic clamp he knew.

The head was curved, with small serrations like molar teeth interlocking tightly without gaps—satisfying obsessive-compulsive tendencies while making it easier to grip slippery tissues, such as retracted vascular stumps.

The difference lay in the handle: no locking teeth meant the clamp had to be held in place rather than released.

"Filing these small teeth and aligning them properly takes considerable time."

Industrialized mass-produced items become labor-intensive and inefficient when made entirely by hand, especially when demand is limited and prices unlikely to be attractive.

Yet for an anatomy lecturer, it was hard not to want one.

"If you'd like, you may take it as a complimentary trial sample," Frances offered an enticing suggestion—with remarkable effect. Viren offered only token protest before accepting the gift and promising to recommend it for Academy procurement if it proved useful.

Witnesses saw a brand-new instrument go directly from a display table to the Academy's procurement list. It was foreseeable that it would then naturally spread beyond the Academy.

All it took was one banquet invitation and a sample gift.

"Does the Dunling University Medical Academy have such substantial funding?" Watching Viren carry his new tool to share with colleagues, one couldn't help but feel confused about the Academy's financial state.

"Didn't you know? The Royal Medical Advisor is always chosen from among the Academy's faculty, and the Academy's funding originates from there. There are also those who actively support the advancement of medicine—like us—who are willing to provide financial support."

"..."

"If you have requirements for special tools, you may also entrust them to us." Seeing Kraft's interest in their instruments, Frances's true intent surfaced eagerly: "We only need your usage feedback and recommendations within the field."

"The hollow needle you used to treat tuberculosis—Dunling might not find another workshop capable of producing or improving it."

"You're quite passionate about medicine," Kraft remarked. This luxury goods family, originating from turquoise, possessed an uncommonly sharp commercial instinct.

"Of course. Ever since I heard of painless surgery, I knew the status of surgery would undergo a complete transformation—and demand would soon grow further." She confirmed her judgment from Kraft's reaction and seized the opportunity to propose:

"We need a sufficiently professional and authoritative figure to assist us. In exchange, you will receive a substantial share of the profits, and the contract may be notarized by the Church or someone you deem suitable."

Imagine—in a few years, or even longer—when the entire Kingdom adopts this treatment, and we control a major portion of it, just as the white glass trade was monopolized."

"This would be an unimaginable fortune, sufficient to cover all your future expenses."

She paused confidently, awaiting his response, her eyes drifting again toward the jewelry and trinket displays.

But the response was not as favorable as expected. The professor showed little interest in the financial prospects, instead turning his attention to other display tables.

"Sounds promising," Kraft made no commitment. "Let's take a look further."

As long as he hadn't refused, it meant he was considering it. To Frances, this was already a good response.

She cheerfully agreed, becoming even more enthusiastic, guiding her prospective partner onward: "Of course, this is merely a suggestion. I'm certain our craftsmanship will convince you."

The rest of the tour proved the Higo family's proposal had genuine grounds.

Their luxury goods business had accumulated considerable technical expertise, excelling in precise polishing and shaping.

Frances explained how they had crafted various bizarre instruments according to requests. Some were overly fanciful—appearing high-end but offering little practicality or scalability, serving merely as showcases for artisanal showmanship.

Yet many items were genuinely striking: blunt-tipped scissors and glass tubes, small objects that greatly improved usability.

And Kraft saw what he cared about most.

They were among the few conservative designs: glass measuring containers, and various surgical instruments. The latter were more numerous, lacking innovation in form but built for durability and sturdiness.

Instead of common copper, they used forged steel—material akin to that used for sword blades. Their silvery sheen made them stand out among all other instruments.

Their variety far exceeded what was needed for routine amputation or debridement, and their slender, elongated forms were designed for deep, narrow spaces—closer to Kraft's own needs, optimized for precise manipulation within limited surgical fields.

Some familiar tools bore unfamiliar models. Especially those clearly from orthopedics: bone saws, retractors, and distractors—all noticeably oversized for adult males.

"Whose request was this?"

"Ah, these were part of Professor Morrison's order. Due to unforeseen circumstances, delivery was halted, so they were left here," Frances explained. "But they're well-made, aren't they?"

"Morrison…" He picked up a retractor, noting its distinctly elongated and deepened shape, the hooked end forming a claw-like grip, with a perforation at the tip as if meant for attaching ropes or chains to pull.

No description on paper could convey the final form. Even for an eight-pack-abbed giant undergoing laparotomy, this was overkill.

"Before coming to Dunling, I very much wanted to meet Professor Morrison. A pity."

"Regrettable. He is precisely the kind of person devoted entirely to scholarship, like you—so much so that he sometimes neglects family. Fortunately, Lady Lesli understands, and does not blame him for failing to fully fulfill his paternal duties."

"It sounds like you know Professor Morrison quite well?" When Kraft first met Frances, she had been hosted by Morrison's daughter—their rapport was warm.

"Because we've had frequent contact—certainly not strangers. Personally, I'm closer to Lady Lesli." With her social skills, it was hard for her not to know anyone.

"Then what kind of person do you think Professor Morrison is?" Kraft probed cautiously.

"Hmm?" Frances rested her chin in thought, puzzled by this sudden interest in Morrison, but interpreted it as curiosity toward a renowned senior scholar.

If this would pique Kraft's interest, she was happy to share information beyond clichés.

"Actually, I don't think Professor Morrison's life is entirely devoid of other interests."

"How so?"

"He's quite fond of studying the Kingdom's history. I don't know when he started, but it's been years."

"We've sent him some antiques, but he prefers old books—the older, the better. He even asked us to find items related to the royal court of that era—it was truly difficult. We inquired with several ancient families just to borrow a few texts."

She lowered her voice conspiratorially, jokingly adding, "I suspect Professor Morrison is especially fond of the legend of the Sword in the Stone, but is too embarrassed to admit it—so he secretly collects such items, even willing to reread the Holy Scriptures for that passage."

"If Lady Lesli hadn't told me, I'd never believe the professor would voluntarily read Holy Scripture tales."

"That's strange." A peculiar feeling arose—the collapse of a cherished legend, replaced by a desperate search for corroboration in obscure chronicles.

"Indeed. But it's only my speculation—don't take it seriously."

As they strolled and chatted, time slipped away unnoticed. The summer heat gathered moisture into the air, thickening it into clouds.

A sudden summer downpour ended the outdoor banquet; guests hurried under the eaves, complaining about the capricious weather. The male guests, who had spent the afternoon touring jewelry displays, were glad to return to their colleagues and resume conversations they truly cared about.

Night fell.