Zorro found a secluded corner in the archive.
He pulled out a book, put it back, and ran his hand over the shelf—nothing happened.
–Right. I’ve been here plenty of times these past few days. If there was something off, it would’ve shown up by now.–
Zorro revisited the moment when he’d sensed something wrong.
Back then, he was holding Han Mingxiao’s pendant—only later did he learn that thing, which looked so solid and real, was actually conjured from psychic power.
At the time, he’d thought that guy named Han Mingxiao might know what he was looking for.
If that pomegranate pendant was the key that triggered him to find the right shelf, then it was way too much of a coincidence.
–What’s wrong here?–
His thoughts were a mess. He felt like he was almost touching the answer, yet always falling short by a hair.
So maybe it’s triggered by psychic ability?
As far as he knew, nothing in the realm of psychic abilities ranked higher than the –Right of Mental Manifestation.–
He took a deep breath, and a silver ring materialized on his chest.
[I, the insignificant triangle, begin to commune with the great, the Right of Mental Manifestation.]
The triangle rotated slowly.
Zorro swapped a few books in his hands, swiped his palm across shelf after shelf—still nothing.
–Did I deduce wrong?–
He furrowed his brows—the ones that were ever so slightly incomplete.
A surge of conviction rose inside him: he hadn’t gotten it wrong. He fiercely believed that what he was doing now was absolutely right, and this was a fleeting window of opportunity.
After all, the Demon Hero Hall was almost complete, and then the power would be taken back.
–Where exactly is the problem?-
Zoro’s eyes flickered thoughtfully.
He recalled Han Mingxiao’s face, his words, his actions… He questioned himself, he handed over the pendant…
He refused, and a strong suspicion arose. Then he began asking the team leader about Han Mingxiao’s identity.
It seemed that at that moment, a slight anomaly appeared in the book in his hand.
The vast document repository was quiet and still. Zoro stood beside the towering bookshelves, looking up. The ancient bookshelves remained silent, standing like rock, watching the comings and goings of people—the quiet and the lively.
–At that time I was asking the team leader, so was it necessary to connect with someone via Syn-Link?- Zoro murmured.
He decided to try again.
[I want to communicate with Yang Zicang.]
The crease on his chest vanished rapidly, and soon Yang Zicang responded.
{Huh? Went to the document repository again. Cramming at the last minute?}
[Heh, I’m conducting an experiment that requires communication with someone.]
{What experiment?}
Zoro squeezed the book in his hand, frowning.
[Maybe it failed. I thought that with the –Mind Manifestation- ability, I would be able to read books more deeply.]
Yang Zicang on the other side immediately understood Zoro’s meaning. Indeed, this thing was currently the most powerful –treasure- that people like them could access—it didn’t even have a concrete form.
Zoro sensed no expected anomalies and reflected: Could it be that because the power of the –Authority of Mental Manifestation- is too strong and its rank too high, the –accident- that should have occurred instead does not?
{Your idea is quite unique. Why set so many conditions—touching the book, activating the ability, communicating with people? Did you pick up some strange summoning procedure from somewhere?}
Yang Zicang said, and Zoro nodded, explaining softly:
[Perhaps it’s my illusion. Once, while communicating with someone, some books here exhibited abnormal reactions.]
The opposite Yang Zicang pondered gravely for a moment, then hesitated:
{So you want to communicate with them?}
Communicate…!
In an instant, Zoro felt as if struck by a bolt of lightning.
He stood dazed for a moment, then let out a soft breath.
[Good, Yang Zicang. If my experiment succeeds, you’ll have to share the blame with me.]
The connection broke.
Zoro was instantly filled with drive.
The broken line on his chest flickered and retracted, but the triangle still rotated within the halo on his chest.
Zoro kept it manifested, looking down at the geographical data volume in his hand: –Drilling Sea Chronicle 150–200 Years, WN009 Region, Detailed Geographical Location Record 031.-
[I, the insignificant triangle, continue to exercise the Authority of Mental Manifestation.]
The broken line flickered in the halo, as if searching for a target but finding none.
[I wish to communicate with –Drilling Sea Chronicle 150–200 Years, WN009 Region, Detailed Geographical Location Record 031.-]
As Zorro struggled to drive, a burst of pure force erupted within the halo, as if oil had been added to the lines, shooting them out and darting into the book in his hand!
Zorro instantly felt a tingling numbness!
A dark, distant, and uncomfortable presence spread into his mind. But it was quickly subdued.
Under the power of mental manifestation, this presence dared not make a single stir.
{A Sidadu… Skalandru…}
An incomprehensible language. Moreover, the other side had no spiritual intent; these sounds were merely echoes of some ineffable ethereal will.
Did it work?!
Zorro held back his excitement.
After a few more attempts, he placed the book, which had shown no progress in communication, back on the bookshelf.
Then, the man’s gaze fell on the bookshelves.
–Moxel, Chronos weapon, the artificial thing that became a monster… Right, communication. Moxel’s communication is not limited to humans.-
His hand reached out to touch the bookshelf, the ring on his chest spinning, as he nervously confirmed this idea in his mind.
[I want to communicate with the bookshelf.]
No response.
–Hmm?- Zorro nervously glanced at the motionless bookshelf, then took a few steps and moved to another one.
[I want to communicate with the bookshelf.]
Still no response.
–This can’t be right. What are you…?-
Zorro looked at the rows of towering creations, thought for a moment, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He tentatively murmured in his mind:
[I want to communicate with the unseen, redundant bookshelves of the Literature Department.]
As soon as the thought was born, the man felt the atmosphere around him shift.
[The right of mental manifestation has answered my call.]
Zorro opened his eyes and raised his head.
The surrounding library had become boundless without warning, but all the wide bookshelves were gone.
Ahead stood only a single black bookshelf, shaped like a gate, lonely in the middle of the vast expanse extending from the library.
Its edges were traced with fine golden patterns, simple yet dignified.
In the blink of an eye, the bookshelf appeared in front of Zorro.
The man subconsciously stepped back, his footsteps echoing hollowly.
–Click-clack clack~-
Several books leaped out from the empty shelves, their spines reading:
–You- –Seek- –Me- –Want- –To- –Do- –What.-
Zorro swallowed hard and said nervously:
–I want to obtain the method for making the ticket to enter the third hub town.-
The books whisked back and vanished, and the next second a torrent of books clattered forth, standing upright in a new row.
–Your- –Spirit- –Is- –Pure- –Enough.-
–But- –The- –Request- –Cannot- –Be- –Fulfilled.-
–This… May I ask why?-
Zorro clenched his fists and stared straight at it.
All the books recoiled and faded, then rapidly jumped out again.
–The- –Method- –Cannot- –Be- –Divulged,- –Unless- –You- –Answer- –One- –Question- –For- –Me.-
–Please, go ahead.-
Zorro seemed to hear footsteps around him, and also the ticking of a clock.
Must hurry, hurry!
The empty bookshelf remained barren of new books for a while; just as Zorro nervously wondered if he had made a mistake, a book appeared on the shelf.
–The World-
Pausing, another book popped up right next to it.
–Does It Have an End?-
–……–
Zorro felt sweat pouring down his back.
How should he answer this?
The other party was like a sage who had pondered the ultimate questions for endless ages, casually asking a child who had stumbled into his room.
How should he reply so as not to be dismissed too disgracefully?
What now? He had barely grasped this chance to see the bookshelf—would he have to leave in failure?
After a few seconds, Zorro nervously bit his lips and stared at the bookshelf.
As if aware of his anxiety, a new book appeared on the layer below:
–There Is,- –Or,- –There Isn’t.-
Ah…
Zorro’s tension suddenly eased. He moved his dry lips and tongue.
–I… don’t know.-
There was a moment of silence; the books slowly retracted and reappeared.
–Between,- –Having,- –and,- –Not,- –Having.-
The books swished back.
–You,- –Choose,- –New Possibilities,- –Also,- –the Most Sincere,- –Inner,- –Confession.-
–New Possibilities- burst into a faint golden glow.
Crackle.
All books retracted and instantly popped out again.
–Although,- –You,- –Wasted,- –One Turn,- –My,- –Statistical,- –Anchor.-
The book vanished, then reappeared.
–But this,- –is the,- –standard answer,- –exclusively yours.-
Zoro was stunned: he had wasted the statistics? The standard answer, belonging only to oneself… This meant that even if he passed this answer on, the next person could not succeed. Did that mean…!
The first four books swished back into the deep black of the backboard, like a void universe.
Zoro looked up with nervous anticipation.
There was one last book left on the shelf.
On its spine, among the four golden characters, streaks of phantom golden light shimmered.
Zoro held his breath and waited for a few seconds. After no mental response, he reached out and took down this one and only book—-The Standard Answer.-
Opening it, the words on the title page greeted his eyes.
—Page 001, Table of Contents.
—Page 003, Method for Manufacturing the Sub-Ether Tunnel Amnesia Engine.
—Page 048, Coordinates of the Dark Gold Hub Town Shadow Realm.
—Page 050, Construction Method of the Psychic Field Resembling the Dark Gold Hub Town.
—Page 100, Admonition.
This was it!
Finally, finally got it!
Zoro couldn’t bear to put it down, caressing this soft volume bound in dark leather with gold lettering. Although the book contained extremely valuable materials, his curiosity drove him to first flip to the –Admonition- page.
It had only one line of text.
—Words are the seal knives of history; history is the lifeblood of words.
What kind of admonition was this? He had expected something like a warning not to be deceived by mental illusions.
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