That afternoon, the two of them were sitting in the living room, drinking coffee brewed by old Albert himself, while listening to him explain some of Germany's cultural geography and customs. The door of the suite was gently knocked.
Chen Mo motioned for Albert to stay seated, put down his cup, and got up to open the door.
Outside the door, a young white man was holding three boxes. He smiled at Chen Mo and said, "Sir, these are the clothes you ordered from our store."
A few days ago, Chen Mo had taken Albert to a nearby tailor and shoe store to order several sets of clothes and shoes, leaving the hotel's address. The shoes had already been delivered, and the clothes were just finished today.
Chen Mo stepped aside to let the young man in and pointed to the table in the living room. "Thank you, just put them there."
After tipping the happy apprentice from the tailor shop and sending him off, Chen Mo returned to the table. There were three boxes, one large and two small. He handed the box with Albert's name on it to him and opened the box with his own name. The largest box remained untouched.
Inside the box were two neatly folded black wool suits. The British tailor's craftsmanship was excellent, with exquisite materials and fine workmanship. Chen Mo looked at the dark gray suit Albert was wearing and shook his head helplessly.
"How is it, Eddie? Go to your room and try it on, see how it compares to your old one."
"It's alright, quite good for Liverpool. But I still think my original one is better," Albert said seriously as he examined the workmanship of the clothes.
The old artist had a proud side, insisting that the clothes made by the local tailor were not good and preferring to continue wearing his somewhat worn dark gray suit. When they went to the tailor shop, if Chen Mo hadn't pulled him along, he wouldn't have gone at all.
Chen Mo thought it was due to his preference for his country's tailors and didn't say much, taking the large and small boxes back to his room.
Closing the door, Chen Mo put the box with the suit aside and opened the larger box.
After checking the contents, Chen Mo nodded in satisfaction. He left one set of clothes out, put the other items back, and stored the box in his space.
When Albert returned to the living room in his new clothes, he was stunned by the scene before him, almost crying out in surprise.
Another "Albert" was sitting on the sofa, looking at him. With the same clothes and appearance, Albert felt his mind was struggling to comprehend.
However, the old man, who had experienced the vicissitudes of life, quickly calmed down and asked in a deep voice.
"Who are you? How did you get here?"
"Who are you? How did you get here?"
Like a recording playback, the "Albert" on the sofa spoke, his voice exactly the same as the real Albert's. Old Eddie's mind became even more confused, but he grew more vigilant, his gaze turning sharp.
Seeing that the simple-minded old Albert was quite frightened, and that things might escalate, Chen Mo laughed and took off the mask on his head. "Haha! How about it, Eddie? I made it to look like you. Does it look real?"
Chen Mo tossed the mask over. Just recovering from the sudden change in the situation, old Albert clumsily caught the mask and examined it closely. "This thing… what is it made of? It looks so real. You completely fooled me just now."
"Silicone, a wig, and some paint. It took me quite a bit of effort and many tries to make it." Silicone had been invented in the late 19th century, and by this period, the technology was quite mature. With Chen Mo's meticulous craftsmanship, it was indistinguishable from the real thing without touching it.
"It's simply amazing! But what about your voice? How did you make it sound exactly like mine?" Albert thought of another question.
"It's simple. Just control the vocal cords to change the sound production area and adjust the way the mouth and nasal cavity produce sound." In reality, many impressionist performers can mimic celebrities convincingly. For Chen Mo, who had excellent control over his body, this was not a problem at all.
Chen Mo stayed in Liverpool for a month, and it was now February 1942. It was time to leave.
One foggy morning, Chen Mo quietly left the hotel. He left $10,000 on the table in the living room for old Albert. During their brief time together, Chen Mo had grown fond of the meticulous, kind, and open-minded old man. Albert's careful and detailed teaching had helped Chen Mo a lot, so he was willing to help him in return.
This amount of money was nothing to Chen Mo, but at that time, it was a considerable sum, enough for old Albert to live comfortably for the rest of his life.
It was just a pity that he wouldn't be able to drink Albert's homemade coffee anymore. Chen Mo shook his head with some regret and left Liverpool with a hint of sadness.
…
March 1942
Tønsberg, Norway
In a remote town on the outskirts, there stood an ancient and simple church, housing the tombs of the Norwegian royal family.
At this time, Norway had already been occupied by Germany, but the nights in this remote town remained peaceful and serene.
Unfortunately, this tranquility was soon shattered. A gigantic tank, three stories high and dozens of meters long, rumbled into the town. The neatly laid stone slabs cracked under its tracks, and the surrounding houses shook.
The steel behemoth of a tank crossed the town square and headed straight for the church, crashing into the tall, heavy wooden doors. The doors, along with the surrounding stone walls, collapsed with a roar. As the dust settled, the scene inside was revealed.
In the small space, several thick gray stone pillars supported the church's domed ceiling. The walls were adorned with ancient and mysterious murals, and a heavy, ancient stone coffin stood in the center of the church.
Inside the church, there was only an old man with white hair and beard, and a civilian who lay silent under the collapsed stones.
A squad of soldiers filed in through the collapsed doorway. Six of them quickly took positions in the corners, guns at the ready, while the squad leader led the remaining three soldiers to the stone coffin, attempting to open it.
A domineering black six-wheeled off-road vehicle slowly stopped at the church entrance. A tall, cold figure stepped out of the car. His black, shiny military boots clacked heavily on the stone pavement, creating a heavy and oppressive sound. Dressed in a black military coat, he exuded authority and oppression. His cold face was slightly stiff, and his icy eyes revealed a hint of brutality and madness.
The officer walked slowly into the church, and the soldiers inside quickly stood at attention and saluted.
"It took me a long time to find this place. I must commend you," the officer said, his cold face devoid of any expression. "Help him up."
A soldier quickly pulled the old man up. Faced with this sudden change, the old man appeared somewhat panicked.
"I think you are a very visionary person. In this, we are alike," the officer said as he helped the old man straighten his disheveled clothes. However, his emotionless voice sent chills down one's spine.
"We are nothing alike," the old man said, his voice trembling but unyielding.
"Is that so? But what others see as superstition, you and I both regard as science," the officer said, looking into the old man's eyes.
"What you are looking for does not exist," the old man's voice quivered.
"Then why go to such lengths to hide it?" The officer seemed to grow impatient. He took off his hat and handed it to his subordinate, then walked to the stone coffin.
Placing his hands on the coffin lid, he pushed hard. What several soldiers had been unable to move even an inch, the officer easily pushed open. As the heavy lid crashed to the ground, the contents inside were fully revealed.