Communication

On Lubo Lane, the morning bustle flowed like a stream over the cobblestones, never letting up.

"Thank you, Mr. Gallo. I'm grateful you were here to help me understand the key points in this book."

A young woman in an Imperial Industrial University uniform stood and bowed to thank Gallo. She put away the several pages of notes she had filled, along with the thick Engineering Department textbook. After paying him with a one-Copper Nil note, she thanked him again and left.

"An Engineering Department student—and a future woman engineer. You really don't see many of those." This was the first time Gallo had ever met a woman studying Engineering at Imperial Industrial University. He put away the one-Copper Nil note she had paid him, took a slow sip of tea, and waited for his next customer.

He was only working this morning. In the afternoon, he was going out with a friend. First, they would stop by Fengman Bank to cash the two drafts Sacia had paid him.

Afterward, he would look around nearby for a suitable apartment.

Scholar Road, beside Lubo Lane, had several nice apartment buildings, and it was very close. It only took two or three minutes to walk there.

Qiangman Street, to the south, had a pleasant atmosphere. It took about ten minutes to walk there, but the surroundings were truly beautiful. Many well-off residents lived there; it was a standard upscale residential area. The drawback, as far as he was concerned, was that the rent might be very high.

Hmm... There was also an apartment district on Lunde Road to the east, and several banks were located there. The downside was the heavy foot traffic and the abundance of shops on both sides. It was bustling, but noisy. He still didn't know how loud the apartments there would be.

As he considered which nearby apartments might be suitable to rent, he had just picked up his Ceylon Black Tea when a faint yet distinct ripple passed through his keen Inspiration, skimming lightly across the lake of his consciousness.

It was a geometric design—a perfect equilateral triangle containing a precise circle, its lines steady and its ink evenly laid.

"Hm?"

Gallo's hand, holding the teacup, stopped in midair. This image had appeared in his mind out of nowhere. That was highly unusual, especially since he was now a Psionic.

Any inexplicable images or whispers that appeared in his mind had to be treated with caution.

His Inspiration stirred, and he quickly traced the image to its source.

The notebook he had handed to Sacia the day before yesterday.

When Clovin's people raided the ritual site where Sacia and the others had gathered yesterday, they must have taken the notebook. But what were they doing with it now? Were they trying to use it to track him down?

Gallo set his teacup on the table. Clovin was a powerful official force in the Empire, and its ranks included trained Psionics, but when it came to Subspace and basic Psionic knowledge, Clovin knew far too little.

In Gallo's eyes, with his wealth of Subspace knowledge from [Knowledge Lv1], Clovin's understanding of Subspace was nothing but a haphazard pile of trash they had cobbled together themselves.

They were like children exploring an unfamiliar world: ignorant and reckless.

Just like last time, in Jeffrey's apartment on Higgins Street. A senior investigator had actually opened himself up to Inspiration and tried to sense an area heavily tainted by Subspace energy. Only a fool would do something like that.

Gallo calmed himself and slowly let out a breath. He didn't immediately use remote viewing to check the notebook's surroundings. If Clovin Psionics were still there, and one of those reckless fools opened themselves up to Inspiration again, they might suffer severe harm, just like the man before.

He wasn't some evil god, after all. He only wanted to live peacefully in this unfamiliar world and take care of his family.

Perhaps Clovin's people weren't using the notebook to trace its origins or track him down. They might simply be investigating its purpose.

He had nearly forgotten about the notebook. He hadn't expected Clovin not only to find it, but to start studying it right away.

Even more surprising, after the notebook had been touched by his Psionic power, it seemed to have formed an exceedingly subtle, direct channel of connection with him.

A few seconds after the geometric design vanished from his mind, a torrent of chaotic, meaningless doodles poured in. They nearly made Gallo choke on his own saliva.

His Inspiration instinctively tried to raise a barrier, shutting out the "visual noise."

But Gallo hesitated for a moment. In the end, he didn't use his Inspiration to block the content coming from the notebook. He wanted to see what else those Clovin people might do.

If they sent more nonsensical doodles through the notebook, he would put up an Inspiration barrier and sever the Psionic connection between his Inspiration and the notebook.

But right after that, a clear line of text came through the notebook's connection:

"What is this notebook for?"

The question was simple and direct, with an unmistakable probing intent.

An idea took shape in his mind.

As an official force of the Empire, Clovin—and this notebook—could offer him a way to make contact and communicate privately, without going through official channels.

With the intention of opening a dialogue, he used the Spiritual connection to the notebook to direct his Spirituality, sending a reply toward the paper on the other end:

[It lets you communicate with me.]—Gallo was being honest.

Then he thought of the meaningless doodles they had sent earlier, which had irritated him. To stop them from writing more pointless things in the notebook, Gallo added another reply through his Spirituality:

[You don't need to keep testing it!]

Sure enough, there was a pause on the other end.

Just as Gallo began to think the tester might have been baffled by the emotion in his reply—or might have feared that further communication would anger whatever lay behind the notebook—

The other party sent another line through the notebook's Spiritual connection:

[Who are you?]

Gallo picked up his teacup and took a leisurely sip.

The warm liquid soothed his throat and gave him a brief moment to think.

His identity was a question he couldn't avoid.

There was no way he would reveal who he was in real life.

He thought of the mischief he had indulged in while altering the ritual, and the name he had used when Sacia Taylor paid fifty Nalang for the manuscript he had translated.

He directed his Spirituality once more, letting the invisible force carrying his message take shape on the notebook's paper:

[I have been given many names in different eras and dimensions.]

[Recently, a group of people have called me the "Holy True Lord."]