As Glenfield said, Antonia Cumming is a renowned contemporary detective novelist.
The book he gifted to Ciles was Antonia Cumming's most acclaimed work, titled *The Truth That Passes with the Pointer*. For Ciles, who had been influenced by the culture of the Internet age, the mystery of this work seemed less perplexing.
But for readers of this era, it would probably be earth-shattering.
This immediately sparked Ciles's interest. It seemed he really could make money by writing novels. Plagiarizing other works from Earth was, of course, unethical, but surely he could bring his own previously conceived ideas to this world?
He needs to solve the problem of making money as soon as possible.
If he really intends to do this, he'll probably have to study the novel market of this era.
Sirius considered his plans for tomorrow—it was Wednesday, and he had to go to the History Society in the afternoon. He had originally planned to continue writing his lesson plans in the morning, but since the progress was going well, he might be able to free up some time tomorrow morning and go to the bookstore in the East City.
He would normally need to go to bookstores or libraries to find suitable teaching materials and to create a reading list for his students.
...Then I'll have to work hard tonight.
Ciles took a deep breath, stood up, went to the restroom to wash his face, and tried to clear his head. He then ate a couple of bites of bread with jam and continued working.
Late into the night, he finally finished compiling the syllabus for an elective course.
Ciles leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes slightly wearily. The light shone through his eyelids, casting a warm, comforting glow.
In the quiet of the night, Ciles felt a complex mix of emotions creeping over him. He had been in this world for three days. His actions were hurried and rushed, and although he appeared calm and collected on the surface, a sense of bewilderment lingered deep within him.
Whether investigating the truth of the world or searching for his way home, some profound force always propelled him forward, preventing him from ever stopping.
He dared not stop. If he did, he would think of his family and friends on Earth. Everything he cherished, everything he missed. It all tugged at him, making him realize countless times that he had never truly belonged to this world.
Ciles sighed softly. When he opened his eyes, the confusion and anguish seemed never to have appeared in his dark pupils before. He stood up, took a shower, brushed his teeth, changed his clothes, and did laundry.
The continuous rain had left his clothes, which he had washed earlier, still wet. If the weather didn't clear up soon, he would probably have to buy a couple of new outfits.
However… come to think of it, he really does need to buy a new outfit. After all, he's about to step onto the podium and face countless eyes from his students.
...Cilles, who was washing clothes, unconsciously stiffened for a moment.
He sighed again.
The next morning, Sirius awoke, dressed, gathered his necessities, and once again went to Logan Market to take the public carriage. This time he didn't run into Mrs. Finn at the door and left Milford Street alone with his long-handled umbrella.
He was going to the History Society that afternoon. And as far as he remembered, there was a large bookstore near Atherton Central Square, south of the History Society.
Ciles tried to recall the exact location of the bookstore several times, albeit uncertainly.
The western and eastern parts of the city of Ramifa are separated by a winding river called the Kanra River. The two roughly equal-sized urban areas on either side of the river together house nearly ten million residents.
As the capital of the Duchy of Constance, Ramifa is an undeniably massive city.
Therefore, even though Ciles had lived in this city for a long time, it was impossible for him to know every area of Ramifa. Besides, there were no electronic maps in this world.
Ciles then thought to himself that he should buy a map of the city of Ramifa.
Perhaps bookstores will sell maps? However, bookstores in this world might not be as categorized and comprehensive as those on Earth. Maybe there will be dedicated map shops instead.
It was another bumpy ride. Because the public carriages traveled in a clockwise direction, it took Ciles nearly three hours to finally arrive at the Historical Society.
He was very pale when he got off the public carriage, partly from the bumpy ride and partly from the extremely long journey. He thought to himself, "This is such a waste of time. Even if it's to save money, there's no need to go through all this trouble."
He secretly decided that when he went to the History Society on Saturday, he would simply hire a horse-drawn carriage. He estimated that it would only take an hour to get there.
He then took out his pocket watch and glanced at the time, finding it was nearly ten o'clock. He quickened his pace and headed towards Atherton Central Square.
This is the heart of the entire city of Ramifa. A little further south lies the royal palace of the Duchy of Constance. Grand Duke Constance, his wife, and their many children all live in that magnificent palace.
However, the rainy season in July led the Grand Duke's family to choose to vacation in a warmer and drier region, and they should not be in Ramifa for some time.
Ciles strolled around Atherton's central square. Despite the overcast weather, many people were still walking there. He also noticed someone sketching on a easel in a corner of the square.
From a distance, it was a slender young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
Ciles didn't linger there long and soon found the bookstore he remembered. More accurately, this place should be called a booksellers' market.
This place is always bustling. Countless booksellers come from all over the principality, get a stall here, and hope to sell all the books they have bought in a short period of time.
It was a huge building with a glass dome. On a clear, fine day, the glass dome would surely gleam, but for now, it only elicited a slight sigh from Ciles.
People come and go here, countless of them carrying several books, whether they've made a fruitful purchase or are leaving disappointed, it's hard to tell.
Ciles went inside and browsed around with a bit of curiosity. He found quite a few books that interested him, and got some titles that he could add to the students' reading lists, as well as books that he himself was very interested in.
He felt a stirring in his heart, but ultimately suppressed his thoughts and went to the section on popular novels.
It was clearly more lively here, with men enjoying detective and adventure novels, while women were engrossed in knight-errant and tales of domestic strife.
Ciles picked up a few of the fastest-selling bestsellers, flipped through the titles, and suddenly paused, thinking, "What about romance novels?"
These novels, which focus on love, romance, and unrequited love, are often considered "unrefined" by critics around the world. However, their popularity, especially among women, is unmatched by any other genre.
...There are no romance novels in this world?
Celeste's eyes lit up immediately. He thought, "Could I write a popular romance novel?"
The more he searched for best-selling book genres, the more he discovered the scarcity of romance novels, and the more he realized the feasibility of his idea. He stood there, pondering for a while amidst the noisy conversations of others.
Subsequently, he bought two books that resembled romance novels. One was an adventure story with a heroic theme, which seemed to be very popular with female readers. The other book had a similar theme, but the protagonist was a young noblewoman.
He put the two books into his bag—he had brought a bag with him today, a single-shoulder backpack similar to a messenger bag.
Afterward, Ciles browsed through the other stalls and shops. The place was a mixed bag, but he also found quite a few books that interested him. He tried hard to remember the meager amount in his wallet and suppressed his urge to spend.
Finally, he stopped in front of a stall.
The stall was located in a corner. If Ciles hadn't suddenly decided to walk around the entire building, he probably wouldn't have discovered it.
The stall owner was a young man, probably around twenty years old, with an undisguised look of disappointment on his face. He may have come with high hopes, but hadn't sold a single book, and was now feeling disheartened.
When Ciles stopped in front of his stall, he simply squatted there, looking quite dejected, and said, "Please feel free to look around."
Ciles was drawn to a notebook with a parchment cover. His previous experience signing a contract with the Historical Society made him particularly sensitive to this type of paper.
The world's papermaking technology is highly advanced, and it's unknown how much of that is due to the work of the Revelation Creator. However, the older and more handmade the material, such as parchment, wooden slips, and stone tablets used for recording text, the more expensive and rare it becomes.
When Cilles was studying the literature of the Silent Age, he noticed that many manuscripts and original books of that time were covered with materials such as parchment and kraft paper, rather than simply paper made of wood pulp as is the case today.
So this notebook immediately caught Ciles' attention.
He was a little worried that this might be a timeline from before the Misty Era, but when his eyes fell on the notebook, the stall owner introduced it as, "This is a travelogue."
His weak voice did little to deter Cyrus's interest in the notebook.
"A travelogue?" Cyrus asked. "What kind of travelogue?"
"The Land of No Return," the stall owner said, "but I don't know the specifics either. It's not the language of the Duchy of Constance."
Ciles was taken aback.
The stall owner then explained carefully, "This travelogue was brought back from the Land of No Return by a merchant. He said the owner of the travelogue was an explorer who was seriously injured. The merchant took care of him for a while, but he still died. Before he died, he gave this travelogue to the merchant as payment."
"But the explorer wasn't from the Duchy of Constance, and the language in the travelogue was a foreign language. The merchant couldn't find a suitable translator, so it couldn't be published, and eventually the travelogue ended up in my hands."
Ciles asked, "What is your relationship with that merchant?"
The stall owner curled his lip and said, "That's my father."
Sirius asked cautiously, "Won't your father object to buying from you?"
"Of course not!" the young stall owner said, somewhat indignantly. "This travelogue could never be published! There are so many countries outside the Duchy of Constance, who would know where that explorer came from or what language he spoke?"
Travelogue. Publication. Ciles pondered the combination of these two words.
He asked astutely, "Does your father have publishing channels?"
The young stall owner paused for a moment, then asked, "What's wrong?"
For a moment, Ciles hesitated whether he should mention his desire to write a novel. But in the end, he had no urge to discuss it with a stranger he had only met once.
He simply said, "If I happen to come across a suitable translator in the future, then we can consider collaborating on publication."
The young stall owner looked at him suspiciously.
Ciles said, "Could you please provide your contact information?"
The young stall owner hesitated for a moment, but finally handed a business card to Ciles. He said, "This is my father's business card."
Sirius lowered his eyes and looked at the name: Jerome Ranmir.
...Ranmir? Wait, the merchant Ranmir?!
Ciles' pupils suddenly contracted.
In his mind, the sound of dice rolling echoed.