Waiting

Although it was only 0.01 points, it marked a change from zero to one, implying the possibility of using spells.

But why?

Because of drinking the potion?

Old Williams's recipe didn't mention this function... his recipe was very sketchy.

However, compared to the potion, Hope felt there was a greater likelihood that it was the shadow or that steel pen—one had chanted a spell, and the other had words that seemed like a spell floating off it...

"Spells" were the only thing Hope currently knew that related to mana points.

Hmm, it probably wasn't because he heard the spell's incantation... Hope had heard spells before, and when Wilbur used them, they didn't bring about this effect...

He rubbed his chin, sinking into thought... Could it be because the shadow was closely tied to me... or those strange runes on the steel pen...

Wait, if he remembered correctly, the Great Night Hawk's mana seemed to be zero, yet the shadow could use spells...

Maybe the truth wasn't what he imagined. The shadow must be connected to the Great Night Hawk, but not necessarily its soul... Night hawks devour the souls of the extraordinary...

Could the shadow be the soul of an extraordinary being devoured by the Great Night Hawk?

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed, because that would explain why the Great Night Hawk was so much larger than an ordinary night hawk—it had truly devoured a soul, one that granted it some kind of evolution, a larger body and greater intelligence.

Most importantly, if it really was an extraordinary soul... how long had it been devoured, and why hadn't it vanished yet?

Was this so-called "devouring" not digestion but imprisonment...

Did it still have consciousness? Did it still know who it was?

This thought made Hope shiver, and he secretly hoped this guess was wrong.

He decided to wait until tomorrow night, actively seek out the night hawk, and summon the shadow again... but just in case, he resolved not to bring the steel pen this time.

Having made his decision, Hope forced himself to calm down, preparing to sleep and await the arrival of tomorrow.

He hoped Professor Armitage and Elizabeth would come soon.

Hope felt a faint unease.

So far, he had neither met Professor Armitage nor Old Whateley. He knew nothing about his most reliable ally or his most dangerous enemy.

The anxiety brought by this uncertainty had surfaced with Elizabeth's departure and would only grow with time.

Early morning, June 7, 1928.

The sun had just risen.

The small pocket watch showed exactly six o'clock.

Hope woke up, realizing that for the sake of his health, he would need to take a nap today to make up for the lost sleep.

He felt a bit down, because in his dreams last night, Old Whateley and Wilbur had been brought to justice by Professor Armitage, and he had gained his freedom... only to wake up and find nothing had changed.

Day two of waiting for Professor Armitage to descend like a divine soldier.

Hope's room actually had toiletries, but no faucet.

Besides the aluminum kettle for drinking water, there was a bucket with a wooden plank as a lid—the water inside served multiple purposes, the most important being flushing the toilet. Hope had learned from practice yesterday that the toilet in the room had no tank; flushing required manually pouring water from the bucket into it.

Also, since there was no sink in the room, Hope quickly realized that brushing his teeth had to be done over the toilet as well.

After getting a cavity, Hope felt for the first time that brushing wasn't all that important... He licked his teeth with his tongue and found that this body had no cavities.

He spent his morning reading Common Herb Collection, not just to pass the time. Since Writer Hope had deliberately recorded these things, he must have thought later users would find them useful.

Hope didn't intend to let Writer Hope's efforts go to waste.

The strange stories mixed into the book fascinated him, serving as decent entertainment, like:

"Dripping belladonna juice into the eyes dilates the pupils, making them seem to sparkle, so for a time, belladonna was a highly favored cosmetic among women... Side effect: dilated pupils left them unable to see clearly, lasting seven or eight days... so only noble ladies used it..."

But other things were puzzling:

"Belladonna's pupil-dilating effect should rely on its atropine content... Atropine can block muscarinic receptors, inhibit parasympathetic nerve activity, treat bradycardia, and reduce secretions..."

Hope was curious whether Old Whateley understood these things too... Even new-age cultists had to use new-age concepts when brewing potions.

The Whateley household ate only two meals a day, with no breakfast. Today's lunch again consisted of two items: the staple, canned peas, and the side dish, pan-fried meat.

The fried meat was laid out on a plate in slices. Hope speared one and realized Wilbur had likely fried canned luncheon meat.

According to the agreement with Lavinia, half of this plate of luncheon meat was hers, and in return, Lavinia had brought newspapers.

They were the Arkham GG-Man and the New Federation Newspaper, dated June 6, yesterday's.

Lavinia said, "I'll bring today's in the afternoon. Dad still needs to read them now."

She was very contractual; since she had eaten Hope's food yesterday, she brought yesterday's papers first.

"Does Wilbur know?" Hope asked. This point was crucial, determining whether he had to read them in secret or could do so openly.

Lavinia hesitated. "Better not let him know."

Hope nodded, indicating he understood her meaning:

Lavinia had taken them behind Wilbur's back, but if Wilbur actually found out, she was confident she could win the argument with him, thanks to the food.

Night had fallen again. Today Lavinia had come twice, bringing meals and newspapers at 11:10 in the morning and 5:57 in the evening, and told Hope she would take the read newspapers tomorrow afternoon.

Wilbur came once, at 6:21 in the evening, to replace Hope's water bucket and kettle.

After his nap, Hope was full of energy. He stared at his pocket watch, watching the hour and minute hands turn to 11:30 at night.

He closed his eyes and arrived at the Rose Garden, but he did not linger there. Instead, he left, walking out of the Rose Garden and into the woods beyond.

Hope was certain there must be Night Hawks in the woods, yet outside he could hear no sound at all. He had no choice but to venture deeper into the forest.

This forest seemed to be part of Old Williams' land as well, but it was overgrown with trees and shrubs Hope did not recognize, isolating Old Williams' home from the other residences.

The only paths he could walk were dusty, winding trails lined with all kinds of vines, some of which blocked the way, forcing Hope to find gaps to slip through.

Among the vines were several flowering plants, mostly with blossoms in red and pink, each about a quarter of a palm in size, with yellow stamens.

As Hope ventured deeper into the woods, the sounds of insects and birds grew louder, and from among them he picked out the "Tata" sound he was looking for.