The price of being a magnetic field maniac
Bai Yushan did not turn to look at him. His gaze clung to the gray sky outside the window, his eyes shifting restlessly, sometimes clear and innocent, sometimes holding an indescribable haze.
Those emotions came and went in his mind, then returned again, gathering and scattering as unpredictably as the clouds in the sky. He would not agonize over one thing for too long, nor would he fixate on one person for too long.
In his eyes, Tang Wulin was a dispensable presence. He had picked him up to play with just now, then tossed him aside when he grew bored. That was all.
The classroom was frighteningly quiet.
No child dared to speak loudly anymore, and no child dared to laugh or fool around. They huddled together in twos and threes, but kept their voices very, very low, their whispers like the rustling of autumn wind through fallen leaves. Their gazes drifted toward Bai Yushan from time to time, then darted away, as guilty as thieves.
The little fatty had stopped crying. He sat in a corner with his face covered and his head lowered, saying nothing. The handprint on his face had turned from bright red to dark red, like a brand seared into his skin. It probably would not fade anytime soon.
The wind blew in through the window, stirring the curtains and lifting the few unruly strands of hair over Bai Yushan's forehead. He narrowed his eyes, feeling the wind brush his cheeks, and sighed softly in comfort.
Electric current flowed through his body.
He could neither see nor touch it, but he could feel it.
That power surged through his blood vessels, pulsed in his muscles, and raced through his nerves.
It made his body stronger, faster, and more sensitive, and it also made his desires more voracious, more naked, and more undisguised.
Like an invisible snake, it coiled around his heart and tightened little by little, squeezing out everything kind, tender, and cautious, bringing everything greedy, savage, and indulgent surging to the surface.
This was the price of magnetic field power.
Whether it was Electric Current Push or Magnetic Field Rotation, at its root, it was an idealistic product driven and directed by will.
Relying on perseverance, self-discipline, and reason, one's lifetime ceiling would top out at a few tens of thousands of horsepower.
But by relying on extreme emotions, obsession, madness, and a desire to obtain things without any bottom line, the more extreme one's emotions became, the more smoothly the magnetic field flowed, and the higher the horsepower climbed.
Back then, after Bai Cinan was betrayed, lost an arm, and suffered humiliation, he went completely insane. Instead, his power soared all the way to 990,000 horsepower, making him one of the strongest on the planet.
Precisely because of this, the world of "Sea Tiger" laid bare the law of the jungle. There were no laws, morals, or order. Only power had a say.
This was a phenomenon that would inevitably emerge once individual might became infinitely vast and infinitely high!
Of course, this did not mean magnetic field powerhouses were necessarily insane. They were simply without order. As their inner desires and emotions were infinitely magnified, good and evil were always equal.
Take Bai Junlang. He was clearly a mad king capable of destroying heaven and earth, yet he was a pure-love warrior. If Guanyue Tong did not die, this Sea Tiger would forever remain a shining paragon of greatness and righteousness.
Take Lan Meng: cold, rational, treating human lives like grass, a pure political animal. He stopped at nothing for the "Blue Dream" of destroying the world, scheming, deceitful, and exploiting everything. Yet he treated loyal subordinates extremely well, resurrected important followers, treated old subordinates kindly, and had genuine affection for his elders.
One could only say that the environment shaped the proportions of good and evil in a person's heart, while the idealistic power of the magnetic field was an amplifier that magnified those proportions without limit.
Before long, Lin Ximeng, their homeroom teacher, stormed into the classroom.
She had been preparing tomorrow's lessons in the office when a little girl ran over to report what had happened. She said Bai Yushan had hit people: first the little fatty, then Tang Wulin.
Lin Ximeng had immediately flared up.
She had taught two cohorts of students and had never encountered a student like this. On the very first day of school, he had started hitting people in the classroom, and it was not just one or two isolated incidents-he had hit them one after another. How could this be allowed?
The moment she pushed open the classroom door, she spotted the handprint on the little fatty's face, stamped bright red across his left cheek. Half his face had swollen up. The little fatty huddled in the corner, his head lowered, not daring to speak. The sight made Lin Ximeng's heart tighten.
Then she saw Tang Wulin.
The boy, who looked like a porcelain doll, sat ramrod straight, but a glaring handprint marked his left cheek, clearer and more swollen than the one on the little fatty's face. A trace of dried blood lingered at the corner of his mouth, and a few dark red marks stained his chin.
Lin Ximeng's blood pressure instantly shot through the roof.
She strode over to Bai Yushan in a few hurried steps. The skinny little boy sat with one leg crossed over the other, his gaze glued to the window, even humming a little tune, looking perfectly relaxed as though none of this concerned him.
"Bai Yushan! Stand up right now!"
Lin Ximeng's voice exploded through the classroom, making even the air seem to shudder. All the children looked up in their direction, then hurriedly lowered their heads again, not daring to breathe loudly.
Bai Yushan slowly turned his head.
His movements were slow, so slow that they carried a deliberate laziness. Like an old cat disturbed during its afternoon nap, every cell in his body seemed to say, "You're annoying."
He raised his eyes to Lin Ximeng.
His eyes held none of the nervousness, fear, or guilt a first grader should have when facing a teacher. There was nothing at all. They were as still as a pool of stagnant water, deep and cold, and the sight made Lin Ximeng's heart jolt.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Lin Ximeng took a deep breath, suppressing the vicious flare of anger in her heart. In her six years as a teacher, she had seen mischievous children and disobedient ones, but never one like this. Those eyes, that attitude-he did not seem like a six-year-old child, but rather a slippery old hand who had spent years in the world.
"Bai Yushan, let me ask you. Did you hit them?"
Lin Ximeng's tone was still fairly calm, but anyone could hear what lay suppressed beneath that calm.
Bai Yushan tilted his head and nodded without the slightest hesitation.
"I did."
Lin Ximeng was momentarily choked by his indifferent attitude.
"Why did you hit them?"
"I felt like it, so I did."
Bai Yushan even smiled a little as he said this. It was not a broad smile, but it carried a genuine, heartfelt indifference.
Lin Ximeng could no longer suppress her anger.
She reached out and grabbed Bai Yushan's arm, intending to haul him out of his seat. As a Soul Elder, even if she was not a Beast Martial Soul Master, her strength was not something a six-year-old child could contend with!
But the moment her hand touched Bai Yushan's arm, before she could exert any force, an enormous force came through her wrist.
Bai Yushan's hand wound around her wrist like a snake, his five fingers locking over her wrist bones and gripping with neither too much nor too little force.
"If you're here to talk, then talk, Teacher Lin. Keep your hands to yourself."
Bai Yushan's voice was not loud, but every word rang clear in the silent classroom.
Lin Ximeng froze.
She tried to pull her wrist free, but that hand did not budge. She used all her strength, the muscles in her arm drawing taut and her face flushing red with effort, yet her wrist remained firmly locked in place.
This was impossible.
She actually could not match Bai Yushan in strength?!