"Well, I want to take the advanced degree exam." Bricher held the cup to warm his hands, not daring to look his friend in the eye when he spoke, "If I'm lucky enough to have some connections, I'm also planning on getting the Oak Leaf Medal..."
"Oh come on -" Deka laughed heartily, holding his stomach, mocking his friend mercilessly, "I know exactly what level you are at... I'm sorry, I don't mean to mock you, but you are of a commoner origin."
A commoner, but engaged in academic studies? Oak Leaf Medal? ... Impossible.
No civilian scholar has succeeded in this route so far. You should know that the Oak Leaf Medal is basically the highest honor in all major fields, and it is divided into first, second, and third levels. Even if you only get the lowest Iron Medal, you are eligible to join the Oak Leaf Knights.
The Order of the Oak Leaf is the highest association of intellectual elites - you can still call it an association, but it is extremely large and has direct support from the royal family.
So it's not that Desca was pessimistic or meant to laugh at his friend. If Bricher had a noble status, even if it was just a poor one, he would have a great chance of winning this honor.
But if he didn't, it would be almost impossible.
For civilians, it is still possible to pursue a career as a doctor or engineer.
But it is impossible in the humanities, absolutely impossible.
"There are some things or phenomena in history that many people thought were impossible before they first appeared," Bricher said calmly. "I want to give it a try. There's no harm in failing."
"...You are right." Deka nodded, then suddenly showed a sarcastic smile: "...Do you think I will comfort you like this?"
"No, Bricher... Don't blame me for pouring cold water on you, but you haven't really entered the industry yet. You don't attend the banquets invited by the cult, and you don't interact with those people, so you don't understand."
"I don't understand."
"Don't you understand that competition in academia is more brutal than in other fields?" Desca said with gritted teeth.
"Within the cult, if you lose in a fight for resources, you lose. The other party won't do anything to you. They may even comfort you, take you with them, and try to share some benefits with you in the future."
"In the military, the worst consequence of losing a fight is a beating; in politics, the worst consequence of losing is exile."
“But in this line of work, let’s not talk about the consequences of losing. As long as you dare to fight—and what you want to do happens to touch upon certain interests.”
Deka came closer and lowered his voice: "They can ruin your reputation."
"...So scary?" Bricher widened his eyes, looking as if he couldn't believe it.
"Ha! It's just that terrifying." Deka snorted coldly, "Don't think that educated people will be more elegant in doing things. That's not the case. When they become ruthless, they are really scary!"
Bricher kept shaking his head, not sure whether he didn't believe it or was dissatisfied with this phenomenon.
"Anyway, I've made it clear to you." Deka counted on his fingers, "Your initial goal was to be a writer, a junior scholar... No one would make things difficult for such a role."
"But if you want to strive for the Oak Leaf Medal, or even just the Iron Medal, the royal family will only issue 33 of them each time... and they are not issued every year. In the past 10 years, it is issued once every 3-4 years on average."
"Do you know how many people will compete with you?" Deka stared at him. "Do you know which chambers of commerce and families are supporting them?"
"I don't know." Bricher frowned.
He was a little frightened, holding the hot tea cup nervously, and asked Deka: "...Why is it so rare? I thought there was one chance every year?"
"Because strictly speaking, the Iron Medal and the Silver Medal are just runners-up." Deka spread his hands, "Each award ceremony is held for gold medal achievements - it is held whenever such achievements appear. If there are no achievements for 10 years, then there will be no awards for 10 years."
"I see." Bricher shook his head. "The other medals are incidental."
"So opportunities are rare. Many people may have waited for seven or eight years, or four or five years to get this opportunity to gild the lily. And now you have to compete with others."
Deka pointed at him and said, "Unless you have a gold medal and are the one who makes the cake yourself, you will be killed."
"Gold medal?"
Blicher looked at the book open on the table.
"I might be able to do it."
Descas was mad at his stubbornness and stupidity. Seeing that he was not moved by any persuasion, he threatened to cut off all ties with him and left the room angrily.
Then in the evening he brought pie to Bricher with a sour face.
"Thank you, Deka."
Bricher thanked him sincerely while eating the pie.
He had been perfecting his theory in the afternoon, and if Descartes hadn't brought him food, he would probably have to wait until dawn the next day before eating.
"I know I've disappointed you...you said that out of sincerity for my own good...but I really can't accept it. I think I still have a chance."
"Whatever..." Deka waved at him with a dark face.
"Just go ahead and make a scene..."
"Anyway, my primary goal is to achieve the gold rank. If anyone comes to mess with you, I will jump out and say that this is my brother Desca Lavos! Ha - they will definitely give me some face!"
"Will this cause you trouble?"
"Good brothers still talk about trouble?"
"But are you sure?" Bricher's face was full of worry. "The Golden Trial - I heard it's difficult."
Seeing the young Deka's face quickly turn darker, Hitzfeld wanted to laugh.
At least old man Descartes was right about one thing: Bricher was indeed an honest man.
"I'll try my best." Deka exhaled.
Although he is not the best, this thing is hard to say.
It does not mean that you will definitely pass the test if you have the best test scores. It has happened in history that you can turn the tables and become the best.
Descartes symbolically ate a piece of cake with Bricher, then left on the pretext of having something to do, leaving most of the pie for him.
Even if Bricher was simple-minded, he could see his good intentions. He was moved and sent him to the corridor. Before leaving, he called out to him, "Hey Desca!"
Desca looked back.
"We can all succeed, right?" The man looked at him steadily.
"You are also a noble, and I am also a commoner... Even such an incredible thing has happened, so why should we question - question the things that are already in our hands?"
"Brichel..." Desca was slightly moved.
He stood there and thought for a while, then nodded to the man: "Then let's each work harder."
"..." Hitzfeld stood at the upstairs window sill and watched the whole process.
Thinking of the subsequent developments in reality, she felt a little uncomfortable.
After seeing Descartes off, Bricher went upstairs and returned home, and the first thing he did was to fill the teapot with hot water.
Hard work is not empty talk. Since he doesn’t have to work tomorrow, he doesn’t plan to sleep tonight.
"Desca wanted to help me." He opened the notebook and the manuscript papers, sat at the table and talked to himself.
"But like Mr. Lu Anshi said, if you don't think it through yourself, no one's help will help you... I can't keep causing trouble for him."
"Gold Medal... I'm not completely unsure."
After making up his mind, he dipped his pen in ink and began writing on the manuscript paper.
Hitzfeld moved closer and saw that he was making a plan.
Written at the front is the goal - Oak Leaf Medal, Gold Medal.
The following is the "Volcanic Cycle Theory", which is the theory he just studied not long ago.
[…because the summer climate causes the snow on the snow-capped mountains and glaciers to melt, causing the sea level to rise, and the increased pressure causes the weak points of the ridgeline to be destroyed, causing magma to erupt.]
Bricher wrote this passage.
Then he shook his head and forcefully blacked out the entire paragraph.
"not enough……"
"This result may qualify me for the Iron Medal, but it's not enough for the Gold Medal... I need to achieve greater results."
But it's not easy.
Hitzfeld was shaking his head.
Although she is not from this industry, she roughly knows what level the gold medal is.
Take a look at what the previous gold medal winners have achieved:
1852, Fermi-Brook, universal filament.
1890, Leby brothers, biplane glider.
1891, Mrs. Milan, penicillin.
1926 Jack Blade Pocket Desktop Typewriter.
She didn't know if there were other rules, but as far as she could think of now, none of the results belonged to literary and historical projects.
Originally...If you want to be on par with the above technological achievements, the workers of the cultural and historical project may have to lead a team to dig out ancient tombs and find a technology or artifact that can be restored in them.
But the royal family will not make a big deal about this.
There might be more hidden rewards, a gold medal? Impossible.
In addition, Bricher did not realize his dream in real history, so Hitzfeld did not take his persistence seriously because it was impossible.
But this projection doesn't think so.
Bricher stayed up late into the morning working on the proposal, scribbling and crossing out countless projects—none of which were likely to win a gold medal.
"It's still not big enough, not shocking enough."
Sighing, Bricher stood up and stretched, then poured himself a cup of hot water and ate the cold and stiff pie while drinking it.
Hitzfeld really admired his energy. He hadn't slept for almost 30 hours, but his eyes still looked bright.
"Maybe I should seek some outside help."
The man picked up the flyer next to him and stared at the letters "Evolution and Ethics Society".
“Top…”
“It’s impossible to get them to reveal their research secrets and directions, but what about future trends and ideas?”
"I'd better go to see Mr. Desseck today."
He left without a second thought - Bricher had no other clothes to wear at home, so he changed his shoes and coat and went straight out, leaving Hitzfeld in the house again.
Just when she was about to complain, he suddenly opened the door, stepped over to the table, put the big book into a cloth bag, tucked it under his armpit and walked out again.
Hitzfeld was delighted.
She realized how rare this opportunity was: she could finally find out whether the Tianyan Society was an evil organization and whether it had any influence on Brichel.
……
After taking three buses, Bricher arrived at Qianhai Road.
This road is very long... The houses and shops are densely stacked, so the queue is only over a thousand.
Number 1102 was a registered bar. Blicher stopped to check the door when he arrived. Hitzfeld took the opportunity to see the plaque clearly. There was a line of small words engraved below it:
[Official designated event location of Ocean Club]
Brichel pushed the door open, refused the receptionist's service, and said to her directly: "I'll go to the third floor."
The other party was shocked and hesitated to speak.
Bricher was stunned for a moment, then suddenly said, "I'm looking for Mr. Van Desek."
The waiter then made way for him and watched him go upstairs in astonishment along with the others.
There is only one door on the third floor, and the room is directly inside.
Bricher knocked on the door, and a voice came from inside: "Come in!"
He turned the doorknob, and Hitzfeld saw an elderly gentleman sitting at a table facing the door.
The man was wearing a pure black suit. He had a bald forehead, a circle of white hair and a beard on his chin. The beard was also white. The muscles and skin on his face were loose. He was a little fat but looked very energetic.
Behind him was an extremely huge aquarium, which almost took up an entire wall. There was a group of red grouper fish swimming back and forth in it, and there were lights on, which looked very gorgeous and dreamy.
"Brichel?" The other party was obviously acquainted with this place. He stopped working when he saw someone coming in and greeted him with a smile. "Isn't today a membership day? Why are you coming here to play at this time?"
"I'm not here to play, Professor." Bricher smiled bitterly, "I'm here to find you to find the direction of my life."
After explaining his purpose in a few words, the white-haired old gentleman fell into deep thought.
During this time, Hitzfeld had already figured out who this person was from the introduction engraved on the wall.
Van der Seck, the vice-principal of Wayne Silver School, just retired last year. He is now the chairman of the Wayne Ocean Club and the president of the Evolution Society who was elected by many people.
If these people were not lying, the performance that day was actually an academic organization. Those who joined were either scholars or people recognized by scholars. The probability of this group being taken care of by evil followers was actually not high.
