Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Royal Society

I hesitated for a moment. Because it seemed like it would really become troublesome if I opened this letter.

Hmm, shall I just consider it lost in the middle and destroy it?

"..."

But from across, the Earl of Derby was glaring at me with sharp eyes. Muttering the name was a mistake. The moment I throw this letter away, it seems the Earl will come running and stab me right away.

Tch, can't be helped. In the end I hesitated briefly and then opened the letter.

������

[ To dear young Jean-Paul Durand ]

I'm worried whether this letter will safely reach you. It seems I finished the greeting too hastily that day, so I'm picking up the pen again like this.

I deliberately chose a shabby envelope so that no one would see and suspect, so rest assured.

There have been many things over the past few days. I submitted a petition to the Secretary of State for the Colonies, Lord Joseph Chamberlain. If this petition is accepted, the double dispatched overseas will return to the home country, and I will be able to devote myself to external activities again.

Then I plan to execute the suffrage plan I had in mind. Detailed stories can leak so I'll convey them directly later. At that time I'd like to hear your honest opinion as a London citizen too.

All are thoughts I had after tasting your Chicken and Chips. Living apart from the beloved family is also truly a bad thing. You too take good care of your family.

When the time comes I'll formally visit your restaurant with my family. I hope we can finish the talk we couldn't that day.

Then farewell. May the protection of Saint George be with you.

- Wishing to be your eternal patron, Lord Edward Richard.

������

"He's coming to my restaurant again? And a suffrage plan, what is that again?!"

No, now please stop dragging me in! I'm just an ordinary chef!

Anyway, if it's the Secretary of State for the Colonies, it would be referring to that politician who sent the Duke overseas. Moreover Chamberlain? The name is familiar.

At the end of the letter, the royal seal was stamped with melted sealing wax. An authentic certification that can't be denied.

Unfortunately, there was no gold coin I expected inside the envelope. I thought there would be at least one more.

With a regrettable feeling I rummaged through the envelope again.

Ah, and I destroyed all the remaining letters.

Half were content wanting to invite me as a chef, and the other half were chain letters?

It's that thing that was popular even in my previous life. The absurd letter that says a curse will fall if you don't send the same to others.

In the end I stuffed all those printed wastes into the trash can.

###

Fortunately, peaceful days continued for a while without any particular incidents.

I thought the Duke would appear again disguised as Holmes, but there was no such thing.

Edith has now completely adapted to the restaurant and my work has gradually decreased. So I was able to afford the leisure of secretly opening the Duke quest reward in the office like this.

【 Spin Spin Random Box 】

Whir. Plop.

What on earth is inside? The box size is the same, but it's lighter than the tumbler last time.

With this, the first hypothesis that even if the quest reward is random there is a limit to the size of the contents is confirmed complete.

The second hypothesis is that there is an upper limit to the price range of random items. To prove this hypothesis I'll have to open rewards a few more times in the future.

Clearly inside this there would be modern items separated from this era. In my head the heart hesitating in case it's nothing special and disappointing, and the curiosity that would drive me crazy wondering what is inside were colliding.

Just open it.

Rip.

"If you're not going to give penicillin anyway, even a measuring cup coming out of the box would be helpful to me�"

Thud.

My heart sank so I quickly covered it. Just now I think I saw something with a lot of complicated buttons?

I carefully opened the box again.

"...Damn."

It wasn't a mis-see.

What on earth came out? A calculator. An engineering calculator. And that in a solar-powered charging version.

A semiconductor item in the 20th century, this is too overpowered?!

I wrapped the box with tape tightly as if handling explosives. Then I tied a lot of string and fixed it firmly as if binding it, then stuffed it as is into the office safe.

"No, is it okay for something like this to come out of a random box? It's really a random box literally? How absurd!"

An item that absolutely shouldn't exist in this era. Well, since there's me expecting penicillin, this much should come out for the balance to match.

"In the next random box, something like a phone won't pop out, right? But even if it comes out I can't use it."

Because in this era electric charging doesn't work at all.

The current power system in Britain is AC so the power method is different from the DC needed for phone charging, and conversion technology doesn't exist yet.

From the start, the outlet itself that I used without thinking in my previous life doesn't exist in this era.

Thanks to that, installing even one fan in my office was a bit of a hassle. Well, since there were almost no portable appliances that could be used with electricity anyway, other people didn't even think much about it.

Speaking of fans, I had to prepare gradually.

Preparation for the vicious summer.

As befitting a country with a maritime climate, London's summer was humid to the point of cursing.

###

The summer of 1901 London was fairy-level compared to modern Korea, but it was still weather that couldn't be carelessly trusted.

Smog due to excessive industrialization, and even the heat island phenomenon was gradually eating away at this huge London metropolis.

That means, this kind of situation also occurs�

"Jean! There's a strange smell from the icebox again!"

"Let's see... This discharge nozzle is completely broken."

The foul fishy smell of water rising smokily from the large wooden box stung my nose. In the hot weather the ice in the icebox melted too quickly.

What's an icebox? An icebox is an essential household appliance used instead of a refrigerator in early 20th-century London.

It's for insulating by attaching something like an iron plate inside a wooden box, and storing ice and perishable ingredients inside.

The ice was replaced by an ice delivery man coming once every day or two.

An essential item that our restaurant, which stacks and uses large amounts of easily spoiling ingredients like meat or milk, can't do without.

But when the ice melts the water has to be quickly discharged, and occasionally when the discharge nozzle gets clogged like this, moisture-filled water flows back inside.

So I clean it often, but if the ice melts in the middle of the night there's no answer. Moreover, the ice itself isn't made with purified water, so the strong smell is also a problem.

Even this low-quality icebox was close to a luxury item in this era. Because the maintenance cost was enormous due to the ice cost.

I let out a deep sigh.

"I need a refrigerator."

"Refrigerator? Jean! What's a refrigerator?"

"There's such a thing. It's an essential item for warm city men."

"Eh? I don't understand."

"You don't need to know. Little kid."

I've tried to endure somehow until now, but now it's really the limit.

No, does it make sense for a chef to cook without a refrigerator? Even if it's an icebox, who knows if mold will grow inside or bacteria will grow. It's so unhygienic that the smell rises immediately even if management is a little negligent.

To people of this era this might be a natural thing, but to me with modern sensibility it was almost torture level.

Think about making food with bacteria-swarming ingredients and serving it to customers. If you don't get sued for food poisoning it's fortunate, the pride of a chef doesn't permit it.

Well, even if a food poisoning accident occurs, with the technology of this era epidemiological investigation would be difficult.

Anyway, with that I fiercely knocked on the door of Mr. Henry's bank office in the building next to the restaurant.

In case among the investment request forms that came into Barclays Bank, there was someone making something like a refrigerator. He was the investment officer.

No, even if it's not a finished product it's fine! If they're just researching I'll gladly give ideas! I don't want to use modern knowledge this much, but if there's just a real refrigerator!

But Mr. Henry who heard all my story only made a puzzled expression.

"Refrigerator? Is that absolutely necessary? No, you're even putting ice in the icebox periodically, wouldn't the ice cost be cheaper than the electricity cost? The electricity cost going into the fan in your office right now must also not be trivial."

"No... It's really necessary. It's desperate. By any chance do you know any information at all?"

"This is the first time I've seen you beg this much. Wait a moment, I'll search once."

Mr. Henry took out a briefcase full of documents and started flipping through for a long time.

"Oho... Hmm..."

"Did you find something?!"

"None. There's none at all."

"Ahem!"

No, but why are you dragging it out as if there is?!

"In fact even if something like that comes in, it would be discarded right below. The miniaturized electrical product you mentioned? There's no way such a thing would have commercial viability."

This was the average sensibility of the British of this era. They don't do things that don't make money!

Don't you care at all about the development of future science and technology?! Yes?! That's why you're being caught up by France and Germany in basic science and technology!

At last year's Exposition Universelle held in Paris there weren't any particularly noticeable British inventions!

Anyway, if even the money ghost Mr. Henry shakes his head, it seems true that there's no refrigerator development investment case. I lowered my head in disappointment.

I thought it was the end like this...

"Well, if you make one promise to me, it's not like there's no method at all."

"Really?! What is it?"

"Galbijjim. Just do it three more times. At our house. You remember my daughter Eleanor? She followed you a lot last time too? Don't you even once think of wanting to feed that delicious food to my daughter too?! Moreover my daughter's birthday is right in a week!"

"...Let's hear that method first and then think."

"I'll write an introduction letter."

"An introduction letter?"

"The Royal Society. It's a place where academic manuscripts published from various places around the world including the mainland gather. Moreover, befitting the status of the British Empire, they also often hold academic seminars by inviting renowned scholars from other countries. If you go there you might be able to find research materials on that refrigerator technology or whatever you want. Just in time my acquaintance is the president of the academy there."

The Royal Society!

I've often read about it in newspapers or magazines. That place that researchers from Oxford or Cambridge University want to visit at least once in their lifetime!

Of course to become a member you need outstanding academic achievements and reputation. An ordinary chef like me would be blocked from entry from the front door.

Still, rather than continuing to argue with Mr. Henry here, going there might have a higher probability of finding a refrigerator. In this uncivilized era that hasn't even invented a refrigerator yet, that place is the one standing at the forefront of world scientific research.

With that thought I quickly nodded.

Then Mr. Henry handed over the introduction letter with a satisfied expression.

With this the negotiation was dramatically concluded. With this is it 29 wins 1 loss out of 30? This uncle, he's quite skilled now?

Mr. Henry's words didn't end there. To me who was about to leave the office, he casually threw important information.

"Ah, one more thing! There's a rumor that a secret seminar not open to outsiders is currently being held at the academy. I heard they even invited a famous engineer from America? How about you check that too? Of course if possible!"

...A secret seminar, how does Mr. Henry even know such information? Something's strange?

"And by the way, sometimes walk the dog with my daughter Eleanor, and on weekends take care of our house garden a bit, how about it? It's a joke, a joke!"

Anyway, as long as I could get a refrigerator it was fine no matter what.

My next destination is the Royal Society of the British Empire.