I loaded the Mysticism panel.

"It's not a note, it's study material," Richard corrected.

"Study materials?" Mason picked up a piece of potato and put it in his mouth. "How many words did she say to you? In total?"

"Before today, I probably... exchanged fewer than ten sentences."

"You think you can just give me handwritten study materials after only ten sentences of friendly conversation?"

"This shows that she is eager to help others."

Mason rolled his eyes and turned to Warren: "Do you believe that?"

Warren cut the steak into small pieces and said slowly, "I choose to believe Williams."

"You believe that...?"

"But I also believe there will be girls who like him." Warren put a piece of meat in his mouth with his fork. "These two things are not contradictory."

Grey ate quietly beside him, her fork scraping against the plate with a soft scraping sound.

"What are you talking about?" Her tone was no different from usual.

"Let's talk about Williams's painful life surrounded by beautiful girls," Mason chuckled.

"Oh," Gray replied indifferently, cutting the steak with a bit more force than before.

Hugh sat on Richard's other side and did not participate in the discussion.

He stuffed the bread into his mouth, brushed the bread crumbs off his clothes, and muttered:

"Richard, you're quite the oddball."

"What's wrong?"

"A month ago you were nobody in class, now you're the center of all rumors. Has the script jumped out of control?"

"You should be happy, my fame benefits you too."

"What benefit am I getting? No pretty girl is passing me notes."

"It will happen."

"Don't try to comfort me." Hugh finished his hot tea in one gulp, with a defiant, "what's the use of trying" attitude.

At the other end of the restaurant, Lillian sat in her usual spot by the window.

She was eating the standard thin soup bread set in front of her, her head down, not looking at the center.

But the girl's ears were standing up.

Mason didn't control the volume well when he said "surrounded by beautiful girls".

Lillian placed the spoon on the rim of the bowl, her lips pressed tightly together.

The note she gave me was study material; her intention was very simple.

Mr. West's suggestion was correct on the day of the trial lecture; she happened to find the corresponding reference paragraph and was just thinking of sending it to her classmate.

After all, Richard is going to participate in the Cicero Cup, so it's only right that I provide assistance.

that's it.

That's all.

She stirred the soup in the bowl vigorously; this time, the soup was still hot.

………………

Days passed by one by one.

I attend classes during the day, have tutoring during lunch, and spend my afternoons in the library whenever I have free time.

In the evening, I do my homework and decipher new books when I get home, and practice breathing exercises for fifteen minutes before going to bed.

The numbers on the panel are the most accurate progress bar.

[Breathing] Lv.2 Experience: 40/500

[Knowledge] Lv.1 Experience: 199/200

My breathing is progressing steadily thanks to the enhancements from practice, but my knowledge is also nearing its limit.

On Friday morning, Richard sat in the classroom listening to the teacher talk about the distribution of ocean currents along the eastern coast of the Albion Empire.

His brain is already adept at operating in two threads simultaneously:

One student followed the teacher's explanation and automatically loaded the ocean current names and directions onto the previously memorized coastline map.

The other one was quietly processing the content that had been extracted from another steganographic text last night.

That book discusses the classification of mineral mediums and has no direct relation to breathing techniques, but it is helpful in understanding the sealing mechanisms of extraordinary items.

The circle-triangle base of the Sphinx lamp, with its short lines extending from its sides, closely matches a standard sealing symbol described in the book.

Knowledge builds bridges in the mind, and the bridges become wider and wider.

The panel has changed.

[Knowledge] Lv.2 Experience: 0/500

The change came more quietly than the escalation of breathing.

There was no heat flow, no vibration in the chest cavity.

But when his knowledge level jumped to Lv.2, he felt as if someone had adjusted the contrast in his brain.

The names of ocean currents written by the teacher on the blackboard are clearer now, and information processing speed is faster.

When a new concept comes in, related prior knowledge automatically pops up and queues up, and the connection between the new and the old is highlighted.

If Lv.1 was like upgrading a search engine from dial-up to broadband, then Lv.2 is like replacing broadband with fiber optic.

His ability to absorb basic knowledge in multiple languages ​​and disciplines has increased once again.

There has been some improvement in depth, although it is not as effective as critical thinking, but at least it will not hit a wall so quickly when tackling tough problems.

The most direct benefit is that the speed of deciphering steganographic text will be increased again.

What used to take three days to complete can now be done in one night.

When the bell rang, Richard closed his textbook, already having a plan for the evening in mind.

………………

That night, after the whole family had gone to bed, Richard turned on the lamp and started working.

The window was left a crack as usual, and a cold breeze slipped in through the gap, causing the corners of the papers on the table to curl slightly.

Another book, taken from the third-floor bookshelf, was spread out in front of him.

This is the third candidate he selected; he hadn't had time to look at it carefully before.

With the help of Mr. Holland's book "From Temple to Pulpit" as a reference, and with the experience and knowledge accumulated from the previous two deciphering attempts at Lv.2, the progress was much faster this time.

He had mastered the rules of religious terminology substitution, and the path of etymological tracing was getting shorter and shorter.

Previously, I had to spend ages flipping through etymology books to find obscure word roots, but now I can recall them directly from my mind.

Two hours later, all the encrypted passages in the appendix of the new book were restored.

The content provides supplementary explanations of the breathing techniques, including answers to several common questions and precautions for advanced practice.

One of them caught his attention:

"When a practitioner can consistently feel warmth in their chest while holding their breath, and the warmth lasts longer than the duration of holding their breath (i.e., there is still some warmth left when exhaling).

This indicates that ether retention has begun to form a stable microcirculation, marking the first milestone in introductory breathing techniques.

He recalled his experiences in his spiritual practice over the past few days.

The warmth in my chest did become more noticeable during each practice session, but it didn't extend into the exhalation phase.

We're still some distance from the first milestone, but we're heading in the right direction.

Richard folded the translation and locked it in the drawer, then turned off the desk lamp.

I lay in bed for a while and did the last set of breathing exercises; the numbers jumped up a bit.

[Breathing] Lv.2 Experience: 49/500

Level 3 is getting closer.

………………

On Saturday morning, Richard went out alone.

The reason is the same as last time: to take a walk and stroll around.

Evelyn didn't come along this time; she was staying home to help her mother with housework.

Before leaving, she specifically reminded everyone at the stairwell, "Don't touch other people's old light bulbs!"

"understood."

"And don't ride in other people's cars anymore!"

"……knew."

The wooden sign for "Clement Antiques" still hangs in the same spot in the alley at the corner of Grafton Street.

There's a piece of bird droppings on the pattern on the bronze kettle, probably dried by pigeons from the neighborhood.

As he entered, the copper bell jingled once, and the old man looked up from behind the counter.

Upon seeing that it was Richard, he said "Oh" and lowered his head again.

"The light is still on."

"I know, I just came to take a look."

"You can look, but don't touch."

Richard went straight for the Sphinx lamp.

The lamp is still on the shelf, in the same position, and the rust on its surface remains unchanged.

He reached out and took the lamp down, then sat down on the chair next to him.

The panel has changed.

Available points: 0.11

He began to cover the lamp with both hands, waiting for the numbers to increase.

0.12……0.13……The speed is even slower than last time.

Last time it was about 0.01 per minute, now three minutes have passed and it has only increased by 0.01.

Richard changed his posture, placing the lamp body on his knees and covering the wing part with his palms, which was the area where the dark red rust was most concentrated.

0.14... Another long wait.

Five minutes passed, and the number had only climbed to 0.15.

At this rate, he wouldn't even be able to inhale 0.5 liters a day if he sat here.

What's worse, this antique shop isn't his living room.

The old man peeked out from behind the counter again.

He watched Richard sitting in the corner, clutching the lamp, his hands tightly wrapped around his chest, as if he were performing CPR on a bronze cat.

"Young man."

"Um?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm feeling the inscription," Richard said casually, without batting an eye.

"You don't need to cover your face with your hands to feel the inscription." The old man was getting impatient.

"Your palms sweat, and the sweat will accelerate the corrosion when it comes into contact with the copper surface. The rust color of the lamp's wings was already unstable."

"Feel sorry."

Richard put the lamp back on the shelf.

0.15, only 0.15 was absorbed.

He did some mental calculations.

To completely absorb everything inside the lamp, at the current rate, it would probably take more than ten visits to the store, each time lasting several hours.

...Just by polishing it like this, you can get a patina on the lamp.

Putting aside whether the old man would kick him out, the time investment alone wouldn't be worthwhile.

He decided to change his approach:

"Mr. Clement, do you have any other items from the Eastern Continent in the shop?"