Late that night, in the latter half of the night, Shi Tiexin sat atop a skyscraper.
He looked at the pitch-black, starless night and sighed to himself. "Every world without stars is no paradise."
Of all the worlds he had encountered so far, only Scholar Stone's Worldline had stars, and only Scholar Stone's Worldline was the most normal.
After more than a month of handling cases, Shi Tiexin had gradually realized that this world looked ordinary on the surface, yet something unusual lurked beneath it.
While working cases, Shi Tiexin occasionally gained some "spirituality." He had gained it roughly a dozen times in total, and including this time with Schmidt, it had risen to 93%.
The increase did not seem large.
But compared to spirituality, which was almost impossible to increase, this growth was already terrifying.
The emergence of "spirituality" seemed to follow certain patterns.
Punishing evildoers and making them confess and submit to the law, or helping innocent people receive fair treatment—either could earn spirituality.
Spirituality could be gained from any sort of case, and the amount gained had no direct connection to the scale of the case. On the contrary, many seemingly insignificant "small matters" yielded even more.
Take Schmidt, for example. All Shi Tiexin had done was forcibly hypnotize him and make him properly handle the credit for this case, yet it had yielded an unprecedented amount of spirituality—fully 1% on the total meter.
School bullying cases were another highly productive source of spirituality.
Where exactly does this spirituality come from? Could it be that, after I enforce the law impartially, good deeds are rewarded with good fortune—something like the "merit" in Dispersed Literature? No. It doesn't feel like that. A faint sense of foreboding rose in Shi Tiexin's heart. *Looks like this place, too, is in