The Imitated Ink

The air in the underground archives is always cold, smelling of parchment oil and dust. I opened the original appraisal register from thirty years ago.

The stroke of the iron pen, the peculiar flourish of the letters—at first glance, it was indeed my master's handwriting. No one in the Great Appraisal Institute would doubt it was his.

However, under the magnifying glass, the settling of the ink and the way it bit into the fibers were different. My master’s brush is decisive, his speed constant. Yet, in this description of the "reversed washer," particularly in the detailed additions, there is a slight hesitation at the end of the curves. The thickness of the ink pool indicates that a line was traced over to adjust its width.

It is an imitation. A correction made by another hand, mimicking my master's handwriting with extremely high precision.

Article 21 of the Great Appraisal Institute Regulations: "Subsequent additions to the original register require the signature and seal of an authorized appraiser." Neither is present here. There is only the quiet ink, disguised as my master's.

I do not feel a chill in my chest. It is merely the draft from the ventilation reaching down to the basement. With the current evidence, the identity of the person who executed this exquisite forgery remains undetermined.

But now, the origin of the twist is visible. It was not the object that was warped, but this paper.

Subject: The ink strokes on the corresponding section of the original appraisal register from thirty years ago.
Grade: Void (Strong suspicion of post-facto forgery).
Note: Discrepancy detected in brush pressure and stroke speed. Identification of the author is currently reserved.