The quill scratched across the paper:
"The 'Savant' potion didn't turn me into an omniscient, omnipotent genius, but it did bring back knowledge I'd once encountered and long since buried deep in my mind.
"For ordinary people, 'Savant' might only improve their memory and learning ability, but for a transmigrator like me, it's practically a cheat!
"All the problems that had been troubling me-improving the printing press, stabilizing ink, making cheap paper... I'd only caught brief glimpses of many of these things in videos and posts before transmigrating, but now I can dig them all out of my memory. Even where I don't have a complete solution, I've found a clear direction.
"If I could return to Earth in this state and take the college entrance exam again, becoming the top scorer in the country shouldn't be a problem. With systematic, in-depth study in a particular field, becoming a scientist and winning a Nobel Prize wouldn't be a pipe dream either.
"This feels amazing. If Captain Dante of the Machinery Hivemind weren't making me go to the church every day to learn the basics of mysticism, I'd go straight to Green, dismantle all his outdated equipment, and redesign it.
"Come to think of it, improving machinery is precisely what the Church of the Artisan excels at. Isn't the sheer number of textile workshops and looms here the reason Sushit has as many followers of the God of Artisan as it does of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun? They channel power from the windmills on Korus Mountain into the Lower Korus District to drive machinery in some of the workshops. That shows the church doesn't oppose research and invention-it actually holds them in considerable esteem.
"Perhaps if I achieve something in this field, I can quickly improve their opinion of me and obtain a Sequence 8 potion?
"Charlotte is only Sequence 9 herself..."
At this point, Roselle couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from rising, and the quill in his hand wobbled along with them.
But he soon recalled Captain Dante's stern face, composed himself, and lowered his head to continue writing:
"Unfortunately, Captain Dante warned me that after taking a potion, I have to wait at least two to three years before considering advancement to the next sequence. There are many reasons, such as insufficient contributions and hard-to-find ingredients, but more importantly, the church worries that Beyonders who advance rashly without truly mastering their current sequence's powers will ultimately lose control.
"It looks like getting the newspaper running properly should come first. Otherwise, I'll barely have a few Verl D'Or in my pocket... That's hardly befitting a transmigrator."
After finishing that sentence, he paused for a few seconds, then dipped his quill in ink again.
"Besides knowledge, the potion has also brought back quite a few other memories.
"For instance, a few days before transmigrating, I bought a silver medal from a roadside stall. It had a distinctly mystical air, its surface covered in intricate patterns and symbols. It looked like some kind of talisman.
"Looking back now, it was the only remotely strange thing I encountered before transmigrating. Could it have caused my transmigration? Perhaps I can try recreating that silver medal from memory someday...
"Finally, there's something even more important, and even more unsettling.
"I remembered the details of the day I transmigrated. I woke up in an alley outside the mansion's back door, with blood on my chest and a trail of blood running along the alley behind me, yet there wasn't a wound on my body.
"My head was muddled then, as though I were drunk. I only managed to sneak home by relying on this body's lingering memories, then changed out of my clothes and threw them into the fireplace...
"If I'd merely fallen, why was there blood on my chest? If I'd been injured, why were there no wounds when I woke up? Had the original Roselle already been murdered, and my transmigration brought this body back to life and completely healed its fatal injury?
"This world doesn't seem as simple as I imagined. Even if I'm the protagonist, there's probably plenty of trouble waiting for me. For instance, whoever attacked Baron Gustav's only child..."
At this point, Roselle frowned and dipped his quill in ink again, apparently intending to add a few more lines of analysis.
Just then, a soft knock came from outside the door, followed by a manservant's voice:
"Young master, Miss Sauron has come to visit."
Charlotte?
The contemplation in Roselle's eyes instantly gave way to excitement. He closed the notebook and shoved it into the deepest part of his drawer, then stacked several books on top. Only after making sure it was safely hidden did he stand, straighten his coat, and hurry out of the bedroom and downstairs.
In an apartment in Constant City.
Klein Abraham sat at the small table in his bedroom. He drew the curtains to block out the increasingly full Crimson Moon and turned up the oil lamp before opening the diary written in Chinese.
Holding his quill, he first organized everything in his mind, then wrote the first line:
"Sunday, March 16, 1143.
"I hadn't intended to keep writing this diary.
"Over the past month, I've gradually come to realize that this world's mystical powers are far more complicated than I initially imagined. They aren't simply a matter of 'Apprentices' passing through walls and opening locks, or 'Warriors' beating people up and breaking things.
"Divination, spirit channeling, ritual magic, mystical items... Things that once existed only in novels and games are all real in this world.
"Beyonders of certain pathways can even make their targets reveal every secret without realizing it. Other abilities can peer into people's thoughts without requiring them to speak at all.
"This has forced me to reassess the risks of keeping a diary. It's true that no one understands Chinese, but if someone captures me, forces me to reveal its secrets, and then gets hold of this diary, everything I've written will be exposed.
"Still, thinking it through, that concern is a little like the joke about catching a rat and then feeding it rat poison. If I'm already in someone's custody and have confessed even the secret of my transmigration, would they still need to read my diary?
"So I've decided to continue recording everything until I have no choice but to stop."
Klein thought for another moment, then continued writing:
"What happened over the past few weeks can be divided into two parts.
"First, matters in the real world.
"After several tentative attempts, I've established contact by letter with members of another branch of the Abraham Family in the city. They did know my parents, have some understanding of my current circumstances, and are willing to meet me. Such a meeting will inevitably carry risks, though. I need to observe them for a while longer to make sure they aren't being watched by other forces or trying to probe me.
"Whenever I deliver a letter, I use my 'Apprentice' abilities to pass through walls and floors, leave in different directions, then circle back to the apartment. Even if they're 'Apprentices' too, working out my route immediately wouldn't be easy.
"Of course, I don't yet have any way to counter divination on a mystical level.
"Second, I probably need to find a job.
"My parents left me a fair amount of money, enough to support me for a while at least, but simply living off my savings isn't a solution. Nor do I intend to use my 'Apprentice' abilities to steal... Although that wouldn't be difficult for a Beyonder who can pass through walls, my parents' notes mention official Beyonders repeatedly. If theft drew their attention, the consequences would probably be more than I could bear. More importantly, it goes against my principles.
"Perhaps I could start as a genuine apprentice. Whether to a watchmaker or a locksmith, it would provide some income and help me understand this world. On the other hand, it might also have something to do with digesting the 'Apprentice' potion.
"If a potion's name is itself a concrete image and the key to digestion, then becoming a real apprentice-learning, recording, and experimenting-might help me control this power more steadily.
"If this body's original parents were still alive, they should have been able to tell me more about the Abraham Family and the Beyonder world, so I wouldn't have to judge every step on my own as I do now..."
Parents... Klein looked at those words and sighed almost imperceptibly. After flexing his wrist, he continued writing:
"...Fortunately, as long as my contact with that branch of Abraham goes smoothly, things may improve.
"Then there's that strange gray fog.
"After repeated tests, the gray fog's abilities seem to include imitation, recording, and replication. I can construct illusory things Above the Gray Fog based on my imagination. As long as they don't involve overly complicated details or real power, they remain relatively stable. The closer they are to things I've encountered and understood, the more realistic they become.
"So, following my imagination, I recreated an ancient Bronze Long Table, a row of High-backed Chairs, and a towering structure resembling a vast Ancient Roman palace. Finally, I constructed a shadow in the seat at the head of the table.
"I based it on the most mysterious image I could conceive, something that couldn't be looked at directly. It has mist, a cloak, and tentacle-like outlines. It doesn't actually act or possess consciousness of its own. It's only an illusory shell.
"To avoid giving myself away, I also recorded a few sentences in advance and arranged for them to play back in a particular order. That way, I can sit below and pretend to be an ordinary participant drawn into the gray fog, just like the other two.
"In short, I've become a plant at the mysterious gathering I set up myself.
"After that, I tried drawing those two previous 'victims' into the gray fog together to test the scene's effect, but I only succeeded this afternoon.
"Does that mean my control over the Gray Fog Space is still limited, like a Guest Account on a computer rather than a true administrator?
"Fortunately, compared with the other members, I'm still something of a ruler within the gray fog. They showed no obvious suspicion. Instead, the presence of that indistinct shadow and my deliberate guidance made them regard the Gray Fog Space with greater awe.
"This proves my approach is viable. Next, I'll continue refining these two identities: the unfathomable ruler of the gray fog who responds only occasionally, and one of his-no, His-devout followers.
"Finally, the event from this afternoon's gathering most worth recording.
"After four weeks, a new member appeared Above the Gray Fog.
"While summoning the two existing members, I noticed a bright star among the surrounding stars and deliberately touched it, drawing his spirit body inside with the power of the gray fog. According to him, however, he inexplicably arrived here after touching a Strange Candlestick from the Tudor period of the Fourth Epoch."