The Course of History

Although merely a low-ranking agent of the Temporal Management Bureau, "Schubert" still had some insight into the dealings of the higher-ups.

As a frontline operative, Schubert had long been taught to diligently execute orders from superiors without acting on their own initiative. Yet, from Schubert's perspective, the higher-ups themselves seemed to frequently act with reckless autonomy.

Take the most recent case, for instance. To correct the staggering 10% "deviation rate" in this timeline, Schubert's superior—Agent Five—had resorted to some rather unconventional maneuvers.

Agent Five had evidently engaged in some shady backroom deals with the "14th Century Division," "15th Century Division," and "17th Century Division," subtly tweaking the historical timeline within the permissible bounds of deviation.

In terms of results, this was undoubtedly a masterstroke. Following the adjustments, the timeline's deviation rate plummeted from a shocking 10% to a much more tolerable 1.7%. In doing so, the negative impacts of an earlier rogue operation were entirely neutralized, and even the disruptive effects of anomalous time-travel incidents were largely mitigated. It was, by all accounts, a resounding success.

Schubert had no idea how Agent Five pulled it off. Clearly, this superior possessed extraordinary skills and connections. After all, even the A-Class Chief of the 19th Century Division would struggle to coordinate such a complex, multi-department operation, let alone guarantee its success. And yet, Agent Five—who wasn't even a division chief—had managed to pull it off. It was hard not to feel a sense of admiration.

No wonder they called Agent Five a top operative!

However, while Agent Five's abilities were undeniably remarkable, their methods were anything but by-the-book. Schubert would bet that when Agent Five orchestrated this cross-departmental operation, they didn't bother informing their superior, the A-Class Chief—let alone seeking approval from higher-ups above them. It was almost certain that the collaborators within the 14th, 15th, and 17th Century Divisions were mid-level personnel of similar rank to Agent Five. These actions were highly unlikely to have been officially authorized.

In other words, the entire operation was essentially an off-the-record, unsanctioned rogue mission.

For an operation of this scale, it was impossible for the higher-ups to be completely oblivious. Moreover, given how smoothly it unfolded, this was clearly not the first time such a mission had been carried out. There must have been many prior instances.

From any perspective, subordinates secretly conspiring and acting behind their superiors' backs was a grave taboo in any bureaucratic system, and the Temporal Management Bureau was no exception. Yet, the fact that operatives like Agent Five, who engaged in repeated rogue actions, hadn't been purged suggested that their superiors were also reaping benefits from these missions. Take the A-Class Chief, for instance. Agent Five's actions had temporarily stabilized the timeline under their jurisdiction. Perhaps these chiefs were quite happy to let subordinates handle tasks they themselves couldn't—or wouldn't—do.

Thus, Schubert came to understand an important truth: as long as the outcomes were favorable, the disruptions minimal, and the "course of history" remained fundamentally unchanged, the higher-ups didn't actually mind such rogue actions.

But this realization also highlighted the limitations of frontline operatives like Schubert: they lacked an understanding of the underlying logic behind the "course of history."

Take this case as an example. Schubert had meticulously studied the past 500 years of this timeline's history, and the findings sent chills down their spine.

The history of the Far East over the past five centuries bore almost no resemblance to the "standard history" Schubert was familiar with. While certain major events still echoed the standard timeline, many other aspects had undergone drastic, earth-shattering changes.

Schubert couldn't comprehend how such significant differences in historical development could result in a deviation rate of only 1.7%. This enigma wasn't covered in the Temporal Management Bureau's training courses, and their superiors certainly weren't going to explain it. Schubert was left to figure it out alone, but even after reviewing numerous cases, they remained baffled. All they could do was sigh and concede:

"No wonder they're the higher-ups…"

Realizing they were nowhere near Agent Five's level, Schubert felt a sense of relief. They set aside their speculations and moved on to other tasks.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, after showcasing extraordinary talent in front of his grandfather and father, Smith found himself pondering the near-mystical concept of the "course of history."

Smith wasn't a historian. Before his time travel, he had never even considered the question of whether history had a definitive trajectory. Naturally, he had no answer to it. But now, given the existence of an entity like the Temporal Management Bureau, it seemed plausible that history did indeed have some kind of developmental trajectory.

Smith was self-aware enough to recognize that, with his current knowledge, he had no hope of unraveling the mysteries of the "course of history." However, this didn't stop him from forming his own understanding based on the knowledge and reasoning skills he did possess.

In Smith's view, the existence of an organization like the Temporal Management Bureau must be supported by a higher-dimensional civilization. For such a civilization, time was likely not a linear concept. What humans perceived as past, present, and future might all occur simultaneously from their perspective. In other words, these beings must possess a capability akin to "seeing the whole from a single part," enabling them to establish such an organization. Otherwise, how could they possibly "manage" time?

Following this line of thought, the "course of history" became less incomprehensible. From the perspective of such a civilization, past, present, and future events might be as clear and precise as a mathematical equation. Naturally, they could discern patterns and derive a "trajectory" from it all.

However, much like solving a math problem, there are often different methods to arrive at the same solution. This is the most common and easily understood form of "all roads lead to the same destination." So, could it be that in the realm of time and space, all "parallel universes" ultimately converge in the same way?

Smith didn't know for sure. But based on the information he had gathered so far, it seemed like a plausible explanation—or at least, it appeared to be the belief system of those folks at the "Time-Space Authority."

"But if that's the case, then all those assassinations and other operations they've carried out seem ridiculously juvenile!"

In a flash, this thought crossed Smith's mind. The earlier incident where the guard tried to tear off his left arm now seemed absurdly naive and comical under this line of thinking.

Yet within seconds, Smith arrived at the most likely explanation.

As someone who dealt year-round with various systems and complex machinery, Smith understood that the more intricate a system, the higher the likelihood of errors. And if the system was composed of humans, the error rate would only increase—after all, humans are prone to mistakes. Moreover, individuals differ in their abilities, and their understanding of things can vary drastically. Take, for example, the highly advanced field of programming in the 21st century: the code written by an elite programmer and that by a novice could be worlds apart.

Of course, the members of the Time-Space Authority were not human, but there was undoubtedly a vast disparity in their capabilities. Simply put, even within the Authority, not everyone could be expected to have a precise understanding of the "course of history."

"It seems the Time-Space Authority isn't as uniform as it might seem... probably not a monolithic entity, either."

With this thought, Smith felt a slight sense of relief. While these musings were entirely subjective, based on the signs and evidence Smith had so far, this hypothesis seemed at least somewhat credible.

Of course, this alone wasn't enough. In the two years since he had traveled here, Smith had only encountered beings suspected to be from the Time-Space Authority twice—counting the recent incident. He was still largely unfamiliar with their modus operandi. He had no idea what their next move might be.

Admittedly, acting rashly without understanding the opponent's tactics carried significant risks. But doing nothing because of this uncertainty would be no different from waiting for death. Smith was a man of action. He decided to take the initiative. After helping his opportunistic grandfather profit from the war with the Americans, he planned to pull a "small stunt" to see how the Time-Space Authority would react. This way, he could observe and learn their patterns through minor skirmishes.

And this "small stunt" involved his opportunistic maternal grandfather.

Yes, that would be Prince Albert, the man designated by Queen Victoria herself as her "Prince Consort."

Historically, whether in the impressions of his contemporaries or in later studies, this German-born prince was seen as a paragon of love and justice, a model of virtue and morality. Smith hadn't interacted much with his opportunistic maternal grandfather, but even in their brief encounters, he could sense Albert's upright character. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him one of the most respectable rulers in the British Empire's history.

Setting aside his personal character and charm, Albert's presence held great significance for Anglo-German relations. As a German prince of considerable influence and diplomatic skill, he had the potential to positively shape British policy and wield his diplomatic talents. If he had been able to exert a long-term positive influence on Britain, Anglo-German relations might not have cooled so quickly after the 1870s or become increasingly strained in the final years of the 19th century.

But history recorded Prince Albert as tragically short-lived. Official accounts attributed his death in late 1861 to overwork for the nation and the stress caused by his incompetent son, which ultimately led to his succumbing to typhoid fever. His passing left Queen Victoria in deep mourning, endlessly grieving her beloved consort. From December 14, 1861, onward, the Prince Consort became the "late consort."

However, that was just the official story. Some details were too delicate to be publicly disclosed. Queen Victoria was an extraordinarily energetic woman, and her desires were as intense as her vitality. In fact, her needs seemed to grow with age.

What was the saying again? "At thirty, like a wolf; at forty, like a tiger." And in the 1860s, the Queen was in her forties.

More than one former servant at Buckingham Palace had recounted such stories: on countless starry nights, the poor prince, exhausted from a day of state affairs, would be driven from the bedroom to the study by the domineering Queen. Her furious German shouts and the sound of her pounding on the study door would echo through the quiet nights of Buckingham Palace:

"Open the door! I am the Queen!"

Thus, Smith's poor maternal grandfather had to toil not only for the country but also for the Queen—in every sense of the word.

Evidence suggested that by late 1860 at the latest, the prince was already showing signs of kidney failure. Clearly, this condition was closely linked to his relentless overwork in every sense. Typhoid fever might have been the final straw, but even without it, the worsening kidney failure would have claimed his life sooner or later.

For both public and personal reasons, Smith was determined not to let his endearing and admirable maternal grandfather die prematurely. Despite appearing frail and weary, Prince Albert was still relatively young—only in his early forties at the time of his historical death. With proper care, it wasn't impossible for him to live into the next century.

"It seems the immediate priority is to nurse my maternal grandfather back to health," Smith thought to himself.