Chapter Fifteen: The Little Hammer

Across the street, Shang Luo, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, peeked from behind his newspaper. Apollonia, as she had before, relayed the conversation of the Jinyiwei guards in real-time. The Jinyiwei had already set up a cordon, and a crowd of onlookers three or four layers deep had gathered.

"I think I heard something, and I also saw them using some kind of magical artifact to search for me. They’re actually going to Las Vegas to chase me? But why?"

Shang Luo racked his brain, but he couldn't figure it out. He hadn't decided on anything yet; why were the Jinyiwei preemptively predicting his moves?

[I suspect the Jinyiwei were headed to Las Vegas regardless. After all, the commotion the British caused was massive, and they’ve detected those ‘eerie’ probabilities. So, where do you plan to go?]

"I don't know. But physical distance won't stop the Jinyiwei; running into the wilderness is useless. Still, I can't really go to Las Vegas, can I? They’re already chasing me there. The question is whether I should run at all. I feel... actually, I might be able to trust the Jinyiwei. Should I go say hello?"

[When in doubt, I suggest you try divination? Come on, draw a card first. You agree? Then let’s begin.]

Apollonia paused, then addressed the powers above:

[Let’s rule out the most unlikely option. Akashic Records, should we go to Las Vegas? Give us a straight answer!]

...

At the station, a long-distance bus bound for Las Vegas had already started its engine.

"So, we really ended up going to Las Vegas. And the Jinyiwei seem to be one step ahead of us. Tell me, are you actually reliable?"

[I think... we can trust the Akashic Records. Yes, we should be able to. The Akashic Records made its answer based on the sum of all past experiences—it believes we should go. So, what are your plans now? Or do you still intend to go back?]

"Forget it, going to Las Vegas isn't necessarily a bad thing. I can't escape them anywhere anyway. This limited path actually helped clear my head; if I have to go to Las Vegas, I suppose I have a way. Besides, I might be able to kill two birds with one stone—solve the money problem and find the elixir at the same time. As for now, I’ll get some rest; tomorrow is likely to be busy."

He looked out the window. The long-distance bus seats were cramped, forcing his knees against the seat in front. The hard wooden seats had no cushions, and their slick surface made him feel like he was constantly sliding off.

This bus wasn't intended for the common subjects of Great Ming, as anyone could board it with a ticket. Every day, two or three buses shuttled passengers between San Francisco and Las Vegas.

The bus wasn't full, but there was one passenger in every row. For a weekday rather than a holiday, the occupancy wasn't bad.

[By the way, when do you want the formula for the Foundation Establishment Elixir?]

Apollonia asked. This was their agreement, and she hadn't forgotten.

"Let's wait until we get off the bus; I can't exactly start alchemy now. Let me have a good sleep first—I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep if I hear it now. Let’s save the big things for tomorrow."

"Ahem..." The conductor, broader than the aisle itself, boarded the bus. He was a "Red-skinned man," his pinkish-white skin burned a deep red, with his nose and neck particularly scorched. A money pouch was strapped around his waist over his short-sleeved shirt. The bag contained tickets and a clipper for validation.

Speaking with a thick Texas accent, the conductor shouted into the bus:

"Who needs a ticket?" He shouted only once and prepared to move on.

"Here." Shang Luo raised his hand weakly.

The conductor stood on his tiptoes to take a look—Shang Luo was in the back row. The aisle was narrow, and he had to suck in his gut to squeeze through.

"Sigh." He was a bit impatient, but it was his job.

Sucking in his stomach, he managed to squeeze through the cramped aisle.

"Where are you getting off?" There was no emotion in his tone. As a conductor, he said this hundreds of times a day. Even though he had only finished elementary school, he could recite the fares for every station along the route.

"Las Vegas."

"90 wen," the conductor replied reflexively.

"That's fine, not expensive." Shang Luo didn't actually know how much the ticket cost. He figured he had enough money. He pulled out a coin and handed it to the conductor.

The heavy one-tael silver dollar hit his palm, and the conductor froze.

Goodness, he gave such a large denomination.

He looked at Shang Luo—

"It's a Zhendan master. My apologies, I didn't realize."

The conductor’s energy levels spiked instantly. A "Zhendan" person might not ride this bus even once every ten days or half a month.

"Zhendan" was the European term for Great Ming, as calling it "Great Ming" directly was considered vague. Since under the heavens all was the Emperor's land, this entire hemisphere was technically "Great Ming." Referring to the subjects within the imperial capital region as "Great Ming people" was politically incorrect.

Therefore, they usually called the Han people within the "Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces"—the imperial heartland—"Zhendan people," a term derived from Roman usage. Some also called it "Maha Zhendan," a more elegant, though unofficial, name.

Correspondingly, the people of Great Ming referred to the "Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces" as "Jinei," as that was the royal domain ruled directly by the Holy Son of Heaven, the Emperor.

"Are you checking my identification?"

"No, no, how would we dare check a Zhendan master's papers? No one here is qualified. Wait a moment, let me get you some newer bills; these ones are too dirty."

"No need for the trouble, just give me the change."

"Then, my apologies." The conductor wore a professional smile, his attitude somewhere between "fawning" and "attentive." It wasn't for nothing; the "Zhendan" people here were almost all on official business, rarely, if ever, true civilians. And this trip was to Las Vegas, clearly for some... some unspeakable reason.

He didn't intend to ask more. With Shang Luo's consent, he gave him the change from his pouch.

Once the bills were in his hand, Shang Luo understood why the conductor wanted to swap them: they weren't all paper notes issued by the Ministry of Revenue, but also included notes from the Roman Central Bank, the "Bank of St. Mark." The exchange rate between the two currencies was very stable, and they were mostly interchangeable.

However, these Roman banknotes were in poor condition. Because they were so far from Rome's core territory in the New World—the Great Lakes region—it was impossible to know how many times these bills had circulated before crossing the continent to reach Shang Luo.

[Actually, this is a good thing,] Apollonia said from his pocket. [Carrying a stack of 'Zhendan currency' into a neutral zone makes you an easy target. Besides, the coins you had were too new.]

"I couldn't help it. These were new coins minted directly in Nanjing and sent overseas as military pay; they hadn't even circulated in the heartland."

[I suggest you try to break those new coins. Find a vending machine after you get off.]

"What kind of vending machine accepts a one-tael silver coin?"

[They exist—the steel ball machines. When we went to Las Vegas last time, the machines that sold steel balls could take a one-tael silver coin directly, and a big basin of balls would come out. You’re going to Las Vegas to play those machines anyway, right? Not having to face people will certainly be safer.]

"Tsk, how unoriginal." Shang Luo shook his head. "How much can you make gambling? If we're going to do something, let's do something big. Besides, you’ll have to put in a lot of effort; we caused that explosion together, so you’re responsible too."

[Let me make this clear! I cannot help you rob a bank! And don't you try to shift the blame! I told you to stop, but you were the one who insisted on swinging that hammer!]

"That hammer is still on me, you know. Strangely enough, after I struck you once, that little hammer gave me a special feeling—as if it could crack you open if I hit you again. It’s very confident now, always eager to strike you. Since repairing you wasn't your intention, how about I restore you? I'll 'pry' out the nail I hammered in."

[No, no, let's just forget it, forget it.]

"So this hammer can really crack you open? Shall I try?" Shang Luo picked up the little hammer.

[Pah, you tricked me. Your intuition is sharp. That hammer touched the main body of a Divine Machine and has now been 'consecrated.' It wounded a Divine Machine once, so it can wound it a second time—just like the Spear of Longinus, which was stained with the blood of a god.]

"So what does that make mine? The Hammer of Apollonia?"

[Calling it the Hammer of Shang Luo would be more appropriate, since Longinus was the name of a soldier... Damn it, what am I saying? You tricked me again. I'm not dead yet; that hammer can't kill me, only wound me. It can probably wound other Divine Machines, theoretically. I have a premonition that this thing can penetrate the shell of a Divine Machine and strike directly at... Ouch! You really hit me!]

Shang Luo picked up the hammer and tapped it gently once more.

[You're still hitting! You're still hitting! Do you have any idea that my entire world is having an earthquake?]

"Sorry, sorry, I have itchy hands; you'll just have to bear with it." Despite his words, he showed no intention of apologizing.

"Do you think this hammer could be used to rob a bank?"

[No, this hammer only has a special effect against Divine Machines; to anything else, it's just a small hammer. Are you really planning to rob a bank? Stealing gambling funds would indeed be faster than sitting at the table.]

"Maybe I will. But there's a way that's even faster than robbing money. Robbing requires doing the work yourself, but if I were omniscient and omnipotent, people would naturally bring the money to me."

He nodded to himself and tucked the little hammer into his waist pouch, making it easy to retrieve at any time.

Next time a critical moment arrived, this little hammer might just come in handy.