Leaving aside the episode where the restaurant had almost mistaken Furen for a customer wanting to eat for free, he left the establishment with a slightly bloated stomach and a completely empty purse, heading towards the destination he had set for himself in advance: the National Library in Trier.
It was already past eleven o'clock. He didn't have much time left, for a very important event was about to occur, and he couldn't guess its nature or whether it would be good or bad. Furen could only leave it to fate.
This family reunion was to be chaired by Reeve Crowe, head of the Trier sector for the Abraham family, and would take place in the Hodgson district, a noble area where the Crowe home was located.
The meeting, however, would not take place at their main mansion, but at a large residence that Reeve had discreetly acquired after numerous formalities.
The time set for the meeting was around 6 p.m.
Furen could have stayed in the library until four o'clock without any problem, but his gluttony had cost him time: he would now have to walk to the residence. This meant he had to leave at 3 o'clock.
Fortunately, Furen had memorized the route between the National Library in Trier and the family meeting house, and a direct journey would take less time than a car. This was due to the underdeveloped roads in Trier: cars had to make numerous detours to reach their destination, while pedestrians could squeeze through narrow passages barely wide enough for one person.
Furen's office was still on the second floor.
The difference was that he now had a notebook in his hand, in which he wrote down the knowledge he learned.
For him, it was the most effective and easiest way to remember.
The study of philosophy required reflection; time therefore flew by.
When he realized, because of the stiffness in his body, that it was high time to move, he realized that it was already a little after 3 p.m.
For a moment, he froze, massaging his aching muscles, then, seeing that there was no one around him, stretched for a long time and yawned silently.
Seeing that he had filled nearly ten pages of notes, Furen did not immediately leave for Hodgson's quarters. He sat down again, rereading his notebook and mentally reviewing the essential points of his study.
It was only after this quick check that he saw the time: it was already 3:30 p.m.
He laughed at himself in a low voice, it was time to show his true talents.
Then, honestly, he carefully put away his notebook, put the book back in its place: Furen had always believed that respecting books was respecting oneself, especially those from a public library.
As he went down to the ground floor, he didn't rush; he did some warm-up exercises in the square in front of the library.
After all, he had to face the consequences of his own laziness: he planned to run to the meeting. And he considered himself quite familiar with jogging.
Fortunately, his clothes were neither formal attire nor a rigid suit, but something in between: quite presentable, yet still allowing him to move freely.
Of course, this spectacle in front of the "temple of knowledge" did not escape the attention of passers-by.
Some stopped, intrigued, looking at him like a fairground acrobat; others glanced distractedly before leaving, sometimes sniggering.
Furen, a little embarrassed, continued his warm-up anyway: he had already run before, he knew what he was doing.
Soon he began to trot at a brisk pace.
Fortunately, his route was well planned, and the map he had consulted was recent and detailed, indicating even the narrowest alleys.
Of course, he sometimes had to make detours: in a city with such long streets, it was impossible to judge every intersection perfectly.
The Apprentice potions certainly contained extraordinary memory-enhancing effects. Furen would have bet his life on them.
Never before had he been able to remember an entire journey so quickly; this time he had only spent half an hour on it.
And even while running, he remembered the map perfectly: the distances, the angles, the landmarks, everything seemed traced in his head.
He soon reached the first turning, which he took as a landmark, and he really felt the difference: his memory worked with supernatural clarity. Clear images of the journey came back to him, as if projected into his mind.
When he finally entered Hodgson Street, he "came out" of this state of concentration.
His body was drenched in sweat, he was panting like an ox. As he wiped his forehead with an already damp sleeve, he felt as if his entire body was dripping.
Taking out his pocket watch, he felt the heat of sweat on the metal.
It was a little before 5:30 p.m. Relieved, he thought of asking a passerby if there was a park nearby where he could cool off a bit.
Unfortunately, there was no one there.
He then tried to recall the map, but realized the irony that it did not cover the detailed topography of the Hodgson neighborhood.
Embarrassed, Furen thought that after all, the Apprentice potion had already improved his memory, his physical condition, and even given him the ability to "open doors." Compared to
"Readers," he had nothing to be ashamed of... even if he felt a pang of envy deep inside him.
However, his thoughts changed nothing: he had to drag his tired legs, one by one, to the Melanie villa, located on Burns Street in Hodgson, where the family reunion was being held.
As he trudged forward, he felt every muscle protest.
The wind dried his sweat, providing a brief sensation of coolness, but his wet clothes clung to his skin, making him terribly uncomfortable.
"If I ever start buying food again without looking at the price, I'm no better than those noble spenders,"
he muttered to himself, cursing himself.
So Furen headed to Melanie's Villa, a place he believed could influence his future.
(End of chapter)