The addition of the eccentric scholar Alistair was like a powerful catalyst, instantly propelling Lin Jie and William’s investigation into high gear.

This “living encyclopedia,” who had devoted most of his life to studying Loch Ness, not only provided them with the most thorough theoretical support but also enthusiastically solved every logistical problem for their local operation.

Thanks to the scholar’s introduction, they smoothly rented a steam-powered fishing boat—sturdy enough and discreet—from a trustworthy old fisherman.

The vessel had been modified; though not fast, it boasted excellent endurance. A small, manually operated lifting crane had been installed at the stern, which would be extremely handy if they needed to collect underwater samples later.

At dawn the next day, while mist still veiled the black lake like a gauzy veil, the little boat carrying their secret mission slowly left the harbor amid the low rumble of the steam engine, quietly heading toward the shoreline waters of Urquhart Bay—the area rumored to have the most frequent sightings.

Veteran William unquestionably took over the helm.

His hands, seasoned from years of holding a firearm, were just as steady and dependable as he manipulated the wheel and the steam engine’s valves.

The scholar, like an inventor who had finally secured funding, excitedly unpacked his prized devices one by one from their crates.

Lin Jie stood at the bow, facing the cold, damp lake wind, watching the unknown waters ahead.

With the scholar’s historical materials as confirmation, any trace of fear had vanished from him; only awe and curious anticipation remained.

“Behold, gentlemen! This is the greatest work I’ve produced in twenty years!”

Alistair’s voice trembled with barely contained excitement.

He laboriously pushed a strange contraption—part inverted bronze bell, part primitive diving helmet—to the rail.

The device’s main body was cast from brass, its bottom edge sealed with a thick ring of rubber waterproofing.

Two long hollow tubes, also sheathed in rubber, extended from its top: one connected to a brass earpiece resembling a stethoscope, the other to a hand-pumped air bellows intended to force air into the bell to maintain internal pressure balance.

“I call it the ‘Ear of the Lake.’”

The scholar introduced it proudly. “Its principle is actually quite simple: it exploits the fact that sound travels faster in water than in air.”

“As long as we sink this acoustic collector to sufficient depth, we may be able to hear those… sounds from the abyss.”

Lin Jie regarded the clunky, nineteenth-century artisanal “black technology” before him with restrained reverence for the obsessed scholar.

This was the most advanced underwater listening device pure surface-world ingenuity could produce in this era.

It was heavy and inefficient, but what it represented—human curiosity and courage attempting to explore the unknown with intelligence—was priceless.

“An extraordinary invention,” Lin Jie complimented sincerely.

Buoyed by the approval, the scholar became even more energetic.

Together, the three of them used the stern crane to lower the heavy “Ear of the Lake” into the Loch’s bottomless, dark green water.

As the cable kept paying out, the acoustic collector descended deeper.

Ten meters, twenty meters, fifty meters… When the marks on the cable showed they had reached eighty meters, Alistair signaled William to stop.

“This depth is just right,” he explained. “It avoids the surface vessels’ noise interference while not exposing my fragile collector to excessive water pressure.”

“Now…”

He picked up the brass earpiece and reverently placed it to his ear.

William shut down the steam engine as well, and the boat slipped into absolute silence on the wide lake.

Seconds ticked by.

Alistair’s face displayed intense concentration and strained pain.

He was contending with the enormous underwater din—frowning at times, shaking his head at others, as if trying to sort something out.

“…There’s too much noise.”

He muttered, “The current slamming against rocks… schools of fish passing by… I think I can even hear the dull grinding of the lakebed’s sediment layers shifting… No… none of these…”

William and Lin Jie held their breaths, careful not to disturb him.

They understood that for this old man who had devoted his life to this pursuit, this was not merely a routine survey but a lifelong pilgrimage.

Yet after more than ten minutes, disappointment gradually crept across the scholar’s face.

He finally removed the earpiece in defeat.

“It’s no good.”

He shook his head, voice heavy with fatigue and frustration. “The sounds from the lakebed are too complex.”

“My ‘ear’ is still too dull.”

“It can hear noises, but it cannot, like a true master, distinguish that single unique ‘movement’ we’re trying to find amid this chaotic symphony.”

Seeing the once-animated scholar now crestfallen like a defeated rooster, Lin Jie felt a subtle stirring in his chest.

“Perhaps…” Lin Jie began slowly, “we can try a different way of ‘listening.’”

Alistair and William looked at him with puzzled expressions.

“Sound travels faster through solids than through liquids.”

Lin Jie stared at the taut metal cable connecting to the “Ear of the Lake,” and a bold idea formed in his mind.

“If,” Lin Jie continued to lay out his theory, “the enormous creature at the lakebed emits some kind of pulse—something we can’t hear directly but that exists nonetheless—then might that pulse be transmitted not only through the water but also more efficiently through the solid lakebed rock, through the solid bridge that connects it to us?”

“You mean…”

Alistair sounded confused.

Lin Jie looked at the dark gray metal cable whose end attached to the bell sleeping eighty meters down in the abyss.

“I have a peculiar ability. I want to try touching that guardian’s heartbeat through this cable—the solid bridge connecting us to the lakebed’s strata.”

The idea was imaginative and fraught with unknown dangers.

Deliberately touching an ancient UMA of unknown power was like sticking a finger into a giant gear in motion.

“Way too dangerous!” William shot back immediately. “We know nothing about its strength.”

“If you do this and anger it, or if your mind gets invaded by its massive will, the consequences could be catastrophic!”

“I understand the risks.”

Lin Jie met William’s gaze with steady confidence. “But I also believe old fisherman Ian and those ancient legends were not lying.”

“As long as we hold no hostile intent, it shouldn’t attack us first.”

“And…” He patted the Webley revolver at his waist—Serene Heart. “I have this to help guard my mind at a crucial moment.”

“Sergeant William, please trust my judgment.”

Faced with Lin Jie’s unwavering eyes, William finally fell silent.

He knew once this young man made up his mind, it could not easily be swayed.

He could only tighten his grip on his rifle and prepare for the worst.

Lin Jie drew a deep breath.

He stepped to the rail and took off his gloves.

Then he pressed his right palm firmly against the metal cable, which hummed with a slight vibration from the tension.

He closed his eyes, pouring all his spirit down his arm into this probe that led into the abyss.

Reverberation Touch—fully activated!