Sherlock looked down at the object Richard had handed to him.
It was the size of an egg with a metallic shell, its surface smooth and resembling an exquisite piece of art. There was a seam on the surface that seemed to suggest it could be opened.
With a "snap," Sherlock opened the object to find a glass watch face inside, beneath which three different lengths of hands were moving.
The shortest of the hands moved the slowest, almost imperceptibly.
The hand of mid-length could be seen moving slowly.
The longest, slender hand advanced in the blink of an eye.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock..."
The hands emitted a crisp and pleasant sound.
The thing Richard gave Sherlock was a pocket watch. In the current Medieval era, where precise timing had not yet fully proliferated, it was considered a novelty, and Richard thought Sherlock would definitely be interested in collecting it.
However, Sherlock’s reaction was somewhat different from what Richard had imagined.
Sherlock glanced at the watch face for a few moments before speaking, "My dear friend Richard, are you planning to give this to me and then go and find something in my warehouse? Tsk, that’s typical of you, and this thing is obviously more valuable than what you need. However..."
Towards the end, Sherlock hesitated.
"What’s the ’however’? Is there a problem? Don’t you like it?" Richard asked.
"No, no," Sherlock shook his head, "It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just... I already have a similar item in my collection, so I don’t need this one. Of course, if you find that Balasi Silver, you can still take it. After all, we are friends."
"Wait a minute!" Richard’s eyebrows perked up, and he asked Sherlock, "You said... you already have a similar item in your collection?"
"Yes," Sherlock nodded.
Richard fell silent: "..." This silence was not speechlessness, but quick contemplation.
Pocket watches were not simple creations, and their technology was quite advanced. On Earth, they were developed after the Medieval era during the great age of maritime exploration, as people needed more precise clocks to determine their exact position on the vast ocean to adjust their courses in time and prevent getting lost.
In the current Medieval-like Wizard World, it wasn’t that similar items couldn’t exist, but as far as he knew, they weren’t available on the market. So where did Sherlock get a similar collectible?
Turning to look at Sherlock, Richard asked, "May I see your collectible?"
"Of course, if you want to take it, it’s fine. My dear friend," Sherlock said generously, then turned his head and called into a little door, "Lucia!"
The maid-dressed Lucia came out quickly from the small door, her face still flushed, and she shyly looked at Sherlock and asked, "Sha... Mr. Sherlock, may I help you?"
"That, Mr. Richard is interested in one of my collectibles, the round box that goes ’snap, crackle’ in my bedroom. Do you remember it? Could you bring it here, please?" Sherlock said with a smile looking at Lucia.
Lucia furrowed her brow as if recalling, then nodded, "Okay," and quickly ran back through the small door.
In no time, Lucia emerged, holding an item the size of a palm, and presented it to Sherlock.
Sherlock pointed at Richard, and Lucia immediately extended the item towards Richard.
Richard took it and examined it closely.
He saw that Sherlock’s collectible had a silver-white shell with a metallic sheen, quite lovely, with a watch face and hands in the middle, giving off an artistic flair. However, it was somewhat different from the pocket watch he held.
A pocket watch was a pocket watch, but the item in his hand was... a small clock—larger than the pocket watch by two sizes, with three hands for hours, minutes, and seconds simplified into just an hour hand and a minute hand, and with less precision, about a one-second error per minute, which could lead to a discrepancy of several minutes per day.
But there was no denying that the pocket watch and the item in his hand could be considered of the same category—the technology inside might be less advanced, lacking components like an escapement and limit pins, causing accuracy issues, but the technology belonged to the same era—as much as a flintlock gun and an automatic rifle were different, both were firearms.
Richard suddenly became curious about the creator of this small clock, wanting to meet them and see what sort of person they were and how they managed to create something so anachronistic.
He had been able to produce it by relying on the crystallized wisdom accumulated by over 100 billion people once on Earth. What did the other rely on?
However, he quickly suppressed this thought, as his primary objective for today was to obtain Metal Palladium to complete his ongoing research. It seemed better to deal with such "branching" matters after his research was finished.
Having made up his mind, Richard handed the collectible back to the girl Lucia and then took out a color painting from the auction from inside his jacket, extending it towards Sherlock, "Your collectible is indeed similar to what I gave you. Since you don’t need two similar collectibles, you should take this instead—painted with the King’s Heart, after all, I don’t like to take things for free."
"A painting?" Sherlock’s eyes shimmered, and while returning the pocket watch to Richard, he took the scroll from Richard’s hand. After unfolding it and taking a few glances, he remarked, "A painting of hell, eh? That does suit my taste more, and I could hang it in my study. But what did you mean when you said it was painted with the King’s Heart?"
"It means that the pigment is rather special..." Richard briefly relayed what the auctioneer had said, "Beyond the East Coast, there’s a Lisben Island with a Pu Aiji Kingdom..."
After listening to Richard’s story, Sherlock’s expression became more animated. Glancing again at the painting in his hand, his eyes sparked with an unusual brilliance, and he clicked his tongue in admiration, "Impressive, impressive, a painting made of corpses! You know, you should have brought this out earlier; this is the truly meaningful collectible! I’ve decided I will store it in the deepest part of my warehouse!"
"Absolutely!" Sherlock declared loudly, not sounding dismissive at all, "I’ve collected so many things, but never such a special existence.
This to me is not just a simple painting, but great art, art!
Using the heart of a King to paint a picture of hell, tsk, it’s like I can truly hear the wailing souls from hell. In death, all are equal. Even the King meets such an end; it’s simply the best explanation of hell.
Wow, I can’t wait. I am going to the warehouse this minute to put it away safely, lest it gets damaged inadvertently."
The more he spoke, the more excited he grew, and in the next moment, Sherlock stepped out the door, with Richard following close behind.