Sherlock saw that Richard hadn’t responded for a while and, feeling somewhat guilty, said, "Is it impossible? Well, then... maybe I should still help you find Balasi Silver. Although you might find some, it’s uncertain how much. If it’s too little, I could be of help."
"This..." Richard pondered for a moment, considering that during the research process, indeed the required amount of Metal Palladium was uncertain and since the metal could be stored, he nodded in agreement, "All right, then, please help look for Balasi Silver."
"It’s settled, I need to be going now," Richard said as he headed toward the warehouse exit.
"I’ll walk you out." Sherlock hurried to follow, expressing his concern, "By the way, does your research have to stop before you find Balasi Silver?"
"The ongoing research looks like it has to stop, but other things can proceed."
"That’s not bad then. Oh, and can you describe what that Balasi Silver looks like again in detail? I wouldn’t want to find the wrong thing."
"Sure." Richard nodded and began to describe, "First is the appearance—it’s silver-white. Then there’s the texture—it’s quite soft, with excellent ductility and malleability... here’s how to think of it: consider it a kind of special silver that is heavier than regular silver by about one-eighth. In the market, an ounce (29.27 cubic centimeters) is roughly 0.775 pounds (351.91 grams), which is more than three-quarters of a pound."
"One ounce, more than three-quarters of a pound." Sherlock nodded seriously.
"Also, another thing," Richard continued, "compared to silver, Balasi Silver is brighter. I won’t go into the details of why, but basically, silver darkens due to oxidation when it comes into contact with oxygen in the air, whereas Balasi Silver doesn’t, remaining shiny..."
"Shiny and sparkling." Sherlock nodded again, just as seriously.
At that moment, Richard, as if suddenly recalling some vital, overlooked clue, abruptly stopped speaking, stood still, and furrowed his brows deeply.
"What’s wrong?" Sherlock looked at Richard and asked.
Richard slowly turned to Sherlock and asked, "Do you remember that clock of yours, the one similar to the first piece I brought out?"
"Uh, of course I remember. It’s always in my bedroom. I just showed it to you, how could I forget?" Sherlock replied, "But... is there something about it?"
"It’s not a problem." Richard shook his head, his eyes revealing an unusual glint as he said, "I just realized, your clock is silver-white and shiny."
"You mean..." Sherlock’s eyes widened as he suddenly understood something.
At that moment, Richard urgently asked, "How long have you had that clock?"
"Uh, several months."
"Have you cleaned it with anything?"
"So it’s been shiny the whole time?"
"It’s always been shiny!" Sherlock asserted, more excited than Richard. "I get it now—the clock must be made of Balasi Silver!"
"Now, we can’t be completely sure yet; we need to test it." Richard remained calmed and shook his head, then frowned, "However, thinking back on it, I was only considering the clockmaker and almost missed the material of the clock itself. That was a mistake."
"Don’t worry about it." Sherlock looked exceedingly honored to be able to help and eagerly suggested, "No more talking, go test it now. If it really is Balasi Silver, I’ll immediately dismantle the clock and give you its case for the experiment. Although it hurts a bit, that’s nothing compared to our grand friendship. Besides, you already have a similar piece, albeit a smaller one, and I’ve accepted that."
"Hmm?" Richard’s eyes flashed as he glanced at Sherlock and couldn’t help but say, "What are you thinking?"
"What?" Sherlock was taken aback, murmuring, "Did I get something wrong?"
"You’re not wrong," Richard replied slowly, "you’re just thinking too ideally. Have you not considered that even if your clock is made of Metal Palladium, how much does a mere case weigh? Even if you gave it all to me, it wouldn’t be of much use."
"This—" Sherlock paused to catch his breath, scratching his head as if it were made of gold, "So, I can’t be of any help, after all?"
"No, you can be helpful," Richard said, "but not by dismantling the clock. Instead, tell me the source of the clock. If the case is made of Balasi Silver, then the clockmaker’s hands should have more of this metal—just find him, and the problem will be solved. Originally, I thought to wait until after the research to contact him to avoid complications. Now, it appears that I must make contact."
"Is that so." Sherlock appeared to have an epiphany and then murmured to himself, "Ah, I shouldn’t have given suggestions in front of you. The more involved I am, the sillier I feel. Perhaps my head is just for looking taller."
Richard glanced at Sherlock and without responding, said, "Hurry and tell me the source of the clock."
"Alright." Sherlock started, "I got this clock from a friend, huh, an old friend—not that we’ve known each other for a long time, but because he’s very old, and we’ve met once or twice, so he’s an old friend..."
Richard left Sherlock’s courtyard.
Sherlock saw Richard to the door, confirming as they walked, "You’re really going to find him?"
"What else?" Richard replied.
"Then I should warn you—the guy is really weird and dangerous, and he especially dislikes strangers. When I first saw him, I was almost bitten by a dog. You... you better be careful."
"I will be," Richard answered.
"Also, about that... Balasi Silver, do you still want my help to continue looking for it?"
"Keep looking," Richard thought for a moment and then said, "It’s still uncertain whether we can get Balasi Silver from him, and even if we can, it might not be enough. It’s always good to have your help."
"Alright, leave it to me!" Sherlock pounded his chest, a bit too hard, and started coughing, "Cough, cough... until... cough, cough... until next time."
"Until next time," Richard replied, waving to Sherlock, who was not easy to look at directly, before walking away.
In Florence City, to the north, there was a secluded alley known as "Rotten Pine."
This alley, due to its narrowness and the high walls of the courtyard, barely received any sunlight, making it feel gloomy and exceedingly damp. The corners were covered with moss, and mushrooms sprouted in clusters, contributing to a peculiar atmosphere. Other than the residents, hardly anyone ventured here.
Richard had come to this place.