Stepping into the Supernatural

A red moon, large enough to cover half the firmament, hung in the sky. Scarlet light flowed and spread, staining the entire canopy of heaven in treacherous colors.

Yet, the clamor stirred the night of Ideal City, veiling all the coldness and oppression of this city that never sleeps.

The residents of Moen held no fear for the red moon that obscured half the night sky. Only Ron, newly transmigrated, was occasionally startled by this unfamiliar moon, yearning for the golden bright moon of his hometown.

He parked his little electric scooter, gathered his large and small bags, and squeezed into his apartment.

"Click."

The voice-activated light snapped on in response. The illumination of Ideal City was clearly better by more than a mere fraction than the kerosene lamps of the Potion Era, casting a bright glow over the cramped room.

Though the room Ron rented was small, he had lived there a long time and kept it well-ordered; it was fully equipped with all necessities and possessed a strong sense of "home."

He tossed a plastic bag printed with "Pot Round Food Hall" onto the table, gently set the newly purchased experimental equipment to the side, and leaned back against his small sofa. An irrepressible sense of relief flowed from the bottom of his heart.

Just like soaking in a steaming hot tub, the feeling of relaxation melted into every bone and joint.

It was hard to imagine that he, an ordinary high schooler without even superpowers, could encounter so many crises within these past few hours—

Whether it was the old magician of Ideal City or the monsters of the Potion Era, both had made Ron brush shoulders with death...

It left Ron suspecting whether some further danger awaited him just going to the mall, and he only relaxed upon returning home.

Having encountered these troubles yet lacking the ability for self-preservation meant one would remain perpetually on tenterhooks, living in constant dread.

As expected, he still needed to become a Beyonder first...

Ron sat up, taking out item after item from the bag on the table—

Fresh duck blood, shredded kelp, and a large bucket of distilled water that cost only 3 credit points from a self-service beverage vending machine...

These things, which looked like mere cooking ingredients, were the complete supplementary materials for the "Gravekeeper" potion.

Ron retrieved the finger bone of the Wronged Dead from his pocket and set it aside, leaving only the final core ingredient lacking—

He opened his magic book, picked up the letter tucked between the pages, and looked at the pale golden sealing wax on the envelope.

In the Potion Era, this letter had been stowed away in Ron's magic book the moment it reached his hands, and only now did he have the chance to observe it closely.

On the sealing wax, simple page-like patterns shimmered with starlight. Even without loading [Ashes of the Age of Gods] to activate Magic Vision, it could be seen clearly from the perspective of an ordinary person.

Judging purely by the flickering light on this sealing wax, one could tell it was certainly no ordinary item.

On second thought, that made sense. After all, this was a confidential letter the Truth Society wished to deliver; it was impossible for them not to employ protective measures to prevent it from being unsealed by anyone other than Idrila.

This piece of sealing wax, recognized by the magic book as a consecrated item, was presumably the means prepared by the society.

Good thing I didn't open it back in the Potion Era; the 1% durability of Fantasy Dissolution definitely wouldn't have been enough...

Ron muttered softly under his breath, then easily unsealed the blood-stained envelope and removed the piece of sealing wax entirely.

What wasn't enough in the Potion Era was a different story altogether in Ideal City.

This era, much like the premise of [Fantasy Dissolution], forcefully repelled the mystical.

The moment Ron loaded [Ashes of the Age of Gods], the manual prompted that [Ashes of the Age of Gods] was being repelled by the so-called "Anti-Mystery Equation."

The trace of mystical power on the sealing wax could not kick up even half a ripple in the general environment of this version...

Thinking of this, Ron inevitably recalled the old magician.

Using Personal Reality to drive magic arrays to cast so-called magic...

Were these magicians forced to use such clever, expedient methods precisely because the macro-environment of this version repelled "mystery" itself?

Pensive, Ron shifted his focus back to the newly unsealed letter.

There were only a few brief sentences on the stationery, written in an elegant hand that seemed to belong to some aristocrat.

The letter read:

"Idrila, erroneous faith cannot help you find the path you ought to walk.

Perhaps you still hesitate, believing the sanctuary in Evening Bell City to be the place where you can dedicate your entire life—but this is merely your own self-righteous fantasy.

In the shadows unknown to you, Father Suul has already committed boundless crimes.

You should know of the recent trials; in the sanctuary's tribunal, dozens of Beyonders were sentenced to death.

The reason is simple—they were used as sacrifices for the upcoming Fire-Chasing Ritual, and thus bore false charges, cast into the sanctuary's prison.

Even, more than just them... you, Idrila, this 'Saint' of Evening Bell City, have also become a sacrifice on the list.

So, embrace new life, child.

Cast aside [War], embrace [Truth]... after stepping through the gates of the society, we will become your firmest backing."

So this Saint wasn't even a member of the Truth Society... What was this, NTR in progress?

The Truth Society was going so far as to poach the Saint of the Scorched Earth Sanctuary itself; the local society really had no scruples...

Yet judging by the phrasing in the letter, the father of this Scorched Earth Sanctuary branch church was even less scrupulous—

After all, what kind of logic was it to use one's own Saint as a sacrifice?

Gazing at the scathing critique of the Scorched Earth Sanctuary's father on the letter, Ron pondered for a moment, then slid the letter back inside.

Clearly, this Father Suul was also a trouble Ron would encounter in the Potion Era.

After all, he was also a prisoner of the Scorched Earth Sanctuary, destined to become a sacrifice for the Fire-Chasing Ritual.

Wanting to escape that prison would inevitably invite obstruction from the father.

This time, then, he might not get through it purely with a war of words...

Ron didn't think disguises like the one he used against Kurt would work every single time; he had to prepare for the worst.

And the Truth Society and that Miss Saint ought to make the best possible assistants for his prison break.

However, all of that was a matter for later.

Until he could resolve the Sequence 8 "War Puppet" Kurt had spoken of, Ron would never set foot in the Potion Era again.

Stowing the letter away, Ron put on a face mask and sterile gloves, took out the newly purchased experimental equipment, washed them clean, and began the exceedingly cautious work of brewing the potion—

This was his sole chance at achieving transcendence now; he absolutely could not allow the slightest error to turn the potion into a failure!

"100 milliliters of pure water, 13 grams of algae plants, 20 grams of avian blood clots..."

Ron chanted the potion formula under his breath, carefully measuring ingredient quantities with a volumetric cup and balance, and finally poured them cautiously into a beaker to mix—

Then, following the guidance of the formula, he placed the finger bone and sealing wax together beneath the beaker and set fire to them—

The next moment, the pale golden sealing wax melted, enveloping the black finger bone and invading it inescapably, scouring away the deep, pitch-black mana clinging to the bone.

Before long, that pitch-black mana was thoroughly cleansed, leaving only a deep blackness embedded within the bone joints that could not be washed away no matter what.

A moment later, the finger bone—now cleansed of its blackness and stained with gold lacquer—actually melted into the fire, radiating a bone-chilling cold...

Within Ron's Magic Vision, he could clearly see white and black mana intertwining above the flame, yet they finally merged together, turning into a mediocre grey.

The mixture of pure water, duck blood, and kelp in the beaker was also boiled, stained a gloomy grey.

"Glug, glug..."

Boiling water bubbles burst, emitting gloomy, hazy grey fog.

The grey fog filled the entire room at an unimaginable speed. Amidst the hazy grey fog, Ron seemed to hear the rush of a sweeping long river.

Faint, distant calls echoed by Ron's ear, and his nostrils caught the desolate, bitter scent of a remote graveyard.

The next moment, the mist receded. Ron snapped out of it to see that the finger bone had long since burned away and vanished, and the liquid inside the beaker was no longer boiling.

There remained only half a cup of ice-cold, deep-grey liquid swirling backward on its own within the beaker, forming a shallow vortex.

This was the "Gravekeeper" potion?

It was hard to imagine that this thing had previously been a mush of duck blood, kelp, and water...

He gazed at the vortex in the cup for a moment, then drank the potion down without a moment's hesitation.

The ice-cold potion slid down his throat. He tasted no flavor at all, feeling only an icy, slender line flow into his stomach before instantly diffusing and merging into his whole body—

In an instant, Ron felt as though he had lost his breath, lost his heartbeat, lost every vital sign, transforming into an ice-cold corpse.

The next moment, he seemed to sink into the deep sea.

Gloomy grey splashed across his field of vision, and the wails of departed souls reached his ears.

Yet, perhaps due to the fairly high tier of the sealing wax serving as a consecrated item, a sliver of golden radiance continued to flicker before Ron's eyes.

A warmth also wandered through his body, allowing him to struggle in this deep grey world with a calm state of mind, swimming with all his might in an attempt to surface.

He saw countless shadows drifting amidst the gloomy grey.

Yet they did not approach Ron, merely watching coldly as Ron fought his way upward alone, calling out to him from beyond a distant boundary.

How long had passed? It was as if time had lost all meaning amidst the loneliness of cold and death. Ron finally tore through the gloomy grey, floated to the surface of the sea, and breathed in huge, ragged gasps.

Then, everything gloomy vanished entirely.

He snapped back to reality. The soft radiance of the red moon shone indoors, and the ticking of a clock reached his ears, reminding him that everything he had just experienced had taken mere moments in reality...

Yet, although everything before his eyes remained unchanged, the world Ron saw was noticeably clearer and more vibrant than before.

So this was the world of a Beyonder...

Emotion stirred in his heart as he heard the prompt tone of the manual ring in his ear:

[You have become a "Sequence 9: Gravekeeper", and have acquired the profession: "Potion Pathway [Death]".]

[Your player level has increased: Lv.0 --> Lv.1!]

Sequence 9 Gravekeeper? Death Pathway?

Ron was suddenly stunned.

He had long since figured out that the player level on the manual and the superpower level of Ideal City were in all probability about the same.

At least, judging by the fact that a Lv.0 player was equal to a Lv.0 superpowered individual, a Lv.1 player must be equivalent to a Lv.1 superpowered individual.

But that meant...

Sequence 9 was likewise equivalent to a Lv.1 superpowered individual?

As the name implied, the Death Pathway evidently had nine ranks, and at the very least, there ought to be a Sequence 1 at the summit.

—Yet in Ideal City, the strongest were merely those eleven Lv.5 individuals standing at the apex of the metropolis!

Could the strongest of Ideal City merely be Sequence 5 within the Potion Era?

Really?

Ron could not help recalling how utterly respectful Kurt's attitude toward him had been earlier, and fell into deep thought.

What sequence number should the "Angel" in Kurt's words be?

Lv.5 superpowered individuals were already powerful enough; every single one of these ability users possessing unique titles was a majestic existence capable of rivaling a nation, easily able to raze a city within half a day.

Were high-sequence Beyonders of the Potion Era not already gods of myth?

Thinking of this, Ron felt his heart burn with heat.

—Not even mentioning angels; if Ron somehow managed to attain Sequence 4 in the Potion Era and then return to Ideal City, he could surpass Lv.5 and become a true god among mortals!

At that time, whatever megacorporation, whatever magician...

Go talk to my transcendent mana!

At that moment, an ice-cold prompt tone abruptly sounded by his ear.

Ron saw a prompt pop up on the manual:

[Detected that legacy profession: "Potion Sequence [Death]" conflicts with major version 4.0. Continuing to load will cause erosion by the major version settings. Load a profession better suited to the current version?]

Erosion by major version settings?

Just as expected, much like how [Fantasy Dissolution] would be eroded and worn away by mysticism influences back in the Potion Era.

This version repelled the mystical; wanting to wield the power of the potion sequence in Ideal City meant enduring the same setting erosion...

However, a profession better suited to the current version... that would presumably be a superpowered individual, right?

He made his choice, and a new prompt instantly popped up on the manual:

[Loaded profession: "Superpowered".]

[Because player level has reached Lv.1, new setting has been unlocked for you.]

[Unlocked setting: Personal Reality (Lv.1)

What I perceive, what I understand, what I acknowledge, constitutes the reality uniquely belonging to me.

The world spins in my palm, every minute detail dictated by the heart.

"Therefore, my heart is the law."

—Dominator of Laws, "Omniscient" Atina.]

[This is a bound setting for "Profession: Superpowered". Loading this setting will support you in utilizing Personal Reality to influence the world and completely control the ability models you use.]

In addition to this, Ron also acquired another setting:

[Extracted setting: Ability Model: Psychokinesis

The necessary ability model for utilizing Personal Reality to influence the world, an indispensable item for using abilities.]

[Upon loading this setting, you will possess the ability model of psychokinesis and be able to use psychokinesis.]

As expected, it was psychokinesis...

Ron had anticipated it, but psychokinesis with a properly constructed Personal Reality was vastly stronger than when he was previously a powerless individual at Lv.0.

With just a thought on his part, it was as if an invisible giant hand appeared, sweeping clean all the test tubes, beakers, and other bottles and jars on the table, moving them in an orderly fashion into the storage cabinet to the side...

Ron even tested the limits of his Lv.1 psychokinesis, levitating an induction cooker and a small iron pot out from the kitchen from thin air—

That was a weight of nearly 10 kilograms!

Though this taxed Ron's computational capacity quite severely, he didn't care about this trace of exhaustion in the slightest, feeling the psychokinesis that obeyed him like his own arm with extreme delight.

True superpowers... This was a true superpower!

The trouble that had plagued Ron for over a dozen years, the Personal Reality he had failed to build despite trying with all his might, completely became a thing of the past today.

Right now, he had already become a true superpowered individual!

Just as Ron was feeling this joy.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Rhythmic knocking suddenly came from beside his ear.

Who is it?

Late at night, why would someone come looking for me?

Could the Magician Association have tracked me down...

Ron turned vigilant at once, hiding the magic book and confidential letter inside the cabinet nearby, turning on the burner of the induction cooker, and dumping all the potion supplementary materials into the pot in one go.

"Knock, knock, knock!"

A few minutes later, the knocking grew somewhat urgent, and Ron even suspected that if he didn't open the door soon, his old security door would be forcefully beaten down by whoever was knocking...

"Coming, coming!"

Responding to the person at the door, he simultaneously readied himself to use his ability, cautiously cracking the door open by a narrow slit—

But the person outside immediately pulled it open.

A tall girl in a black dress stood outside, an ID badge hanging from her chest that read, "Discipline Patrol."

"Hello, I'm Discipline Patrol enforcement officer C01."

As she spoke, she coolly looked Ron over.

"There's a case... We need your cooperation with the investigation."