I'm a Proper Student, and I Only Drink Nine Potions a Day

A chill ran down Evan's back.

He quickly etched those words into his mind.

"What professions are there now? What are their signature abilities?"

The Demon Hunter nodded, seemingly pleased by his thirst for knowledge.

"There are five Beyonder Signifiers: the Sun, the Moon, the Tree of Life, the Holy Grail, and Gold."

"They represent the five most steadfast, most widespread, and most conceptually inclusive paths."

"The Moon governs three professions: Spirit Mediums skilled with souls, Sanguine skilled with blood, and Nighthawks skilled with darkness."

"The Sun also has three: Knights skilled with the body, Prophets skilled with divination, and Demons skilled with fire."

"The Tree of Life likewise has three: Snake People who study rebirth, Good People skilled in fusion, and Dryads skilled in perception."

"The Holy Grail has three: Monks who study desire, Fanatics who crave Telekinesis, and Poets obsessed with sound."

"Lastly, there is Gold, which arose with industry over the past century. It too governs three professions."

Evan supplied the answer.

"Financiers, Judges, and Factory Owners."

The Demon Hunter gave a slight nod.

"Correct. Five directions, fifteen professions."

"The more Beyonder concepts a profession can encompass, the stronger it is relatively speaking."

Evan fell silent for a moment, then asked what he truly wanted to know.

"What about Demon Hunters?"

The figures around the bonfire, who had remained silent all this time, seemed to stir faintly as one the instant he asked that question.

The Demon Hunter sighed.

"Unfortunately, Demon Hunters, Witches, and Mages are not part of the mainstream Beyonder system. We are called low-class professions."

"These three are all rather ancient titles, but they became mixed and incoherent because they encompass too many things."

"Since we have no established Beyonder Signifiers, the path we should take can only be explored by ourselves."

Evan opened his mouth.

The truth was more absurd and unbelievable than he had imagined.

At last, he understood why Hill had reacted so strongly that night when she heard the Vampire curse them as "low-class."

It was not merely an insulting term.

It was the contempt and disdain of the entire mainstream Beyonder system toward the faction she belonged to.

The Demon Hunter smiled. Firelight cast wavering shadows over his mask.

"But everything has its pros and cons."

"Though these three professions have not gone as far down the Beyonder path as the mainstream professions, we are relatively freer."

"Mainstream professions are strictly bound by their paths, becoming sensitive, paranoid, and mad."

"Because every step they take has already been trodden by those before them, and they must follow it."

"We are far freer and more normal."

"Otherwise, our meeting would not have been so peaceful."

He paused, and a trace of heaviness entered his voice.

"Of course, the price is that without a clear direction, the mortality rate is high and the ceiling is low."

He looked toward the bonfire, its flames dancing in his golden slit pupils.

"A profession is a framework summarized for you by those who came before."

"It tells you what you should do, what you should not do, what suits you, and what does not."

After hearing that, Evan felt calmer instead.

He had the Nine Dragons Panel. Compared with any Demon Hunter, death was a far smaller variable for him.

"Then how should I train? How do I become stronger?"

The Demon Hunter laid his silver longsword across his knees and stopped polishing it.

"Generally speaking, Demon Hunters can only reach the first three of the nine stages of the Beyonder realm."

He raised his index finger.

"Master one complete foundational Beyonder Characteristic, break Spirit Vision past one, and you have entered the path. Status: Apprentice."

His middle finger rose as well.

"After mastering three Beyonder Characteristics, break Spirit Vision past ten. Status: Expert."

Then his ring finger.

"Fuse the three Beyonder Characteristics together, allowing life to undergo a leap, and break Spirit Vision past twenty. Status: Master."

At that, he lowered his hand and gave a bitter laugh.

The laugh came through the black mask, sounding especially weary.

"This is the limit our lineage can reach."

He lifted his head, and the light in his golden slit pupils dimmed somewhat at that moment.

"As for how to walk the path beyond that, you can only rely on yourself, child..."

The dreamlike voice rippled like water brushed by the wind, then gradually subsided.

The dream ended.

Evan turned his head and looked at the pocket watch on the bedside table.

Exactly six in the morning.

He got up, sat on the edge of the bed, and wound the pocket watch first.

The faint ticking of gears was clearly audible in the quiet bedroom, one click after another, as if setting the rhythm for his chaotic thoughts.

The memories that had suddenly appeared in his mind were still slowly falling into place.

There were far too many counterintuitive things about the Beyonder world.

The three Beyonder professions celebrated in myths and legends for thousands of years had, in reality, become low-class professions people sneered at.

Demon Hunters, Witches, and Mages.

Names that should have carried the most weight in folk tales were now scraps cast aside by the mainstream Beyonder system.

"Perhaps it's precisely because these three professions aren't mysterious enough."

He gave himself a reluctant explanation.

"Eeeek~!"

When he stood up, the springs of the iron bed let out their familiar strange shriek as usual.

Having just put on his shirt, Evan's thoughts turned back to the topic from his dream.

"Are there really no books?"

He was still somewhat unconvinced by what the Demon Hunter elder had said.

The soul that had lived through the twenty-first century on Earth made it difficult for him to accept such a counterintuitive premise as "knowledge cannot be written down."

He picked up a sheet of scrap paper from the desk, drew a dip pen from the pen holder, and dipped it in the ink bottle.

First, he wrote the two words "Knight."

Everything was normal. Ink seeped into the rough fibers of the paper, leaving clear handwriting.

Then he wrote "Sun."

That was normal too.

"What if I put them together?" he muttered.

"A Knight under the Sun Path."

The instant he finished writing, something changed.

The six words on the paper wavered faintly before his eyes, as if he were looking at them through a layer of mist.

An invisible force acted upon the ink. The characters shifted beneath his gaze and reassembled themselves into a new line: A Knight under the Sun.

Evan had yet to react.

Whoosh.

The entire sheet of paper blackened from its center in a way that defied common sense. The blackened edge rapidly spread outward, as though an invisible fire inside the paper were devouring its fibers.

In less than two seconds, the scrap paper turned into a clump of ash, fluttering down from between his fingers.

The tabletop was spotless, as if nothing had happened.

"Damn, it can do that?"

Evan stared at the empty tabletop for two seconds, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself.

That supposedly rigorous scientific worldview of Earth had been lightly snapped in half here by ink and ash.

"But there are so many ordinary people. Wouldn't they accidentally trigger combinations of these words too, and have them corrected and burned?" Evan still had doubts.

Unfortunately, he had no time to verify that. He still needed to study.

After confirming that the inheritance from the dream was real, he opened his textbook and began reviewing the day's lessons.

Dalton's atomic theory, Berzelius's electrochemical dualism, and the derivation of Avogadro's constant.

None of it was difficult for him anymore. Especially after combining it with the chemical framework of twenty-first-century Earth, he could even see at a glance where the scientists of this era had taken wrong turns.

At six forty, he had reviewed every key point.

He closed his book, walked into the cramped washroom at the end of the corridor, and turned on the tap.

With a clatter, icy water rushed from the pipes. He scooped up two handfuls and splashed them over his face.

Just as he finished wiping his face and looked up into the mirror—

He froze.

"Does a digested potion directly affect the body?"

He reached up and felt the contours of his skull, his expression growing strange.

"Why does my head feel... pointy?"

The top of his skull was clearly a little higher than yesterday, while the sides had narrowed slightly toward the center. The shape of his head had changed from round to faintly oval.

It was not obvious, but he could feel it.

"Looks like it's digesting pretty quickly."

A light, amused voice sounded behind him.

Evan spun around.

At some point, Hill had appeared in the doorway of the washroom. She leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded, a hint of amused anticipation at the corner of her lips.

But today, she was completely different from the Hill he had seen under the moonlight last time.

Her long silver hair had turned into a warm gold.

Her golden slit pupils had become normal blue eyes, their irises reflecting the morning light outside the washroom window.

She was not wearing leather armor today, but a standard casual outfit.

One button of her white shirt was undone at the collar, with a short brown open-front jacket over it. She wore cream and dark-brown plaid trousers below.

On her feet were a pair of lace-up ankle boots, and on her head was a black newsboy cap. Golden strands of hair fell from beneath its brim, gleaming in the morning light.