I loaded the Mysticism panel.

He thought for a moment, then quickly added:

"This isn't an invitation for you to go on an adventure. I'll do the work of reinforcing the seal myself; you just need to watch from the sidelines."

"The reason I brought this up with you..." He put the pocket watch back in his pocket, "is mainly to remind you not to stay at school too late these days."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Your current condition is rather unusual." The old man placed his hands on his knees.

"When an ordinary person encounters a death voice, at most they will have a headache for a few days and have a few nightmares after returning home."

Perkins was quite frightened, but he was fine after two weeks of rest.

For them, the noise pollution is like a mosquito bite—itchy but not fatal, and it will go away on its own after a while.

"But you are different."

He looked very intently into Richard's eyes.

"You have already developed a certain degree of etheric affinity and spiritual perception."

The breathing exercises have established the rudiments of etheric microcirculation within your body. Although it is still extremely weak, it will make the interference of ether on you much stronger than on an ordinary person.

"To give an analogy, an ordinary person is like a stone in front of the Death Voice. The Death Voice can't see the stone, nor bother with it, but you..."

Mr. Hutton's face darkened.

"You are a candle in the darkness. The flame is small, but in the pitch black, even the slightest bit of light is exceptionally dazzling."

"The sound of death is anchored at the location of death and cannot be moved."

However, if a living person with an etheric affinity enters their sensing range, the Death Voice will use the tiny amount of ether you possess to sustain itself.

"You can think of it as a leech. Leeches don't produce blood themselves; they need to suck your blood to survive."

"Can it be removed once it's attached?"

"Yes, but it's very troublesome." Mr. Hutton shook his head.

"Once it gets attached, you definitely can't handle it yourself; you'll need to hire a professional to remove it."

"So, are you telling me not to come, or are you telling me to come?"

The old man chuckled, his smile lines deepening at the corners of his eyes.

I was just trying to scare you.

"Last time I tested Lillian with the same words, she shook her head like a rattle-drum and said 'no' eight times in a row."

"But I'm different from her, I want to go and see."

Mr. Hutton's smile froze.

"Are you serious?"

"Seriously."

"...Why?"

"Two reasons." Richard took his backpack strap off his shoulder and placed it on his desk, relaxing a bit.

"First, it's only a matter of time before we encounter similar situations in the future."

Even with you protecting me now, I don't dare to even glance at it. If I were to encounter it alone in the future, I would only be in a more passive position.

Mr. Hutton did not respond, waiting for him to say his second point.

"second……"

He hesitated for a moment, but still spoke.

"I want to observe the sealing structure and what's sealed inside up close. Reading about it in a book and seeing it with your own eyes are two different things."

"You remind me of someone." The old man sighed.

"That happened many years ago. That person was fearless and wanted to see everything with his own eyes."

He put the pipe into his shirt pocket.

"Later he became a very powerful person, and then... he died in the New World."

Richard did not respond.

Mr. Hutton straightened up, picked up the folder, and his expression returned to its usual casualness.

"Friday night at 10 PM, at the back gate of the school, wearing dark clothes."

He took two steps, then turned back and added another sentence.

"Don't wear any copper jewelry, as copper will interfere with the etheric field."

Although the interference is minimal, it's best not to wear it. If your belt buckle is brass, try wearing sweatpants instead.

"Understood."

"Also, remember to eat a full meal before you come. Doing this kind of thing on an empty stomach can easily lead to problems."

He pushed open the door and left.

………………

At 9:30 p.m. on Friday, Richard slipped out of the back door of his house.

He wore an old, dark gray coat, which his father had discarded and altered to fit him; it was inconspicuous in the night.

He checked his body twice more to confirm that he had no copper coins or copper items.

My parents were already asleep before I left. There was no light coming from under the door of my sister's room, so she was probably asleep too.

The streets were sparsely populated, and in the distance, the factory chimneys formed a row of black teeth against the night sky, occasionally spewing out plumes of smoke that emitted sparks.

The air in Bristol is cleaner at night than during the day, and there are relatively fewer night shifts at the factories, resulting in a significant reduction in soot emissions.

It takes about 20 minutes to walk from home to school.

He walked at a steady pace, his breathing maintaining the rhythm of his meditation.

When we arrived at the back gate of the school, Mr. Hutton was already waiting there.

"You're here?"

"They're here."

The old man took a key out of his bag and unlocked the back door.

The two walked into the campus.

The windows of the teaching building were all dark, and the old man at the gatehouse had also gone off duty after nine o'clock.

Mr. Hutton did not head towards the teaching building, but led Richard eastward along the path inside the wall.

"The seal isn't in the basement," he explained as he walked.

"The basement was only affected; the actual location of the seal is deep in the foundation on the east side of the stadium, where the original textile factory boiler room was located."

"The entrance is in the power distribution room next to the stadium."

The power distribution room was a small brick building with an iron sign on the door that read "Electrical Danger, Keep Out of the Way".

The lock was opened, and Mr. Hutton walked to the innermost electrical box, squatted down, and lifted the metal plate at the bottom of the box.

"They've really hidden it well," Richard thought to himself.

Beneath the iron plate was a set of brick steps that extended downwards and disappeared into the darkness.

The steps were barely wide enough for one person to pass through, and the walls were covered with a layer of salt frost.

A chilling aura surged up from the cave entrance.

Richard felt a slight tightness in his chest as the warmth accumulated in the "Sun's Seat" was gently touched.

He glanced at the panel subconsciously.

Available points: 0.15

Not moving.

The air was clearly filled with something that didn't belong to the normal world. His inspiration was already reacting, indicating that the ether concentration was far higher than on the ground, but the available points on the panel hadn't increased at all.

"You felt it?" Mr. Hutton turned to look at him.

"Hmm." Richard nodded, suppressing another thought in his heart.

"That's right." The old man steadied his briefcase.

"You'll get more and more familiar with these things later. Come on, stay close to me, and don't bump into the walls."

He took out a lantern from his bag, and the light flickered in the narrow passage.

The further you go, the colder and more humid it gets.

The tightness in my chest is getting worse, but the available points on the panel haven't changed.

What does this tell us?

Even if the concentration of ether diffused in the air is very high, it cannot be converted into points.

His golden finger does not absorb "bulk" ether.

At the bottom is a horizontal passageway, with circular silver pieces embedded in the walls on both sides every ten steps or so.

"This is a marker," Mr. Hutton said without turning his head.

"The sealing is a system; the more complete the network, the more stable the seal."

If a silver piece has a problem, the shading in the corresponding area will be weakened.

The movement of equipment in the equipment room and the unusual sensations Perkins felt in the corridor indicate a weak point in the outer perimeter.

At the end of the passageway was an iron gate.

Mr. Hutton hung the oil lamp on the iron hook on the wall next to him, then squatted down and opened his briefcase.

The bag contained several items:

A sealed glass bottle containing a clear liquid; Richard guessed it must be holy water.

A small silver ingot, an extremely fine chisel, a jar of grayish-white wax, and a few silver coins.

"From here on, don't speak," Mr. Hutton instructed. "Blink when you understand."

Richard blinked.

Mr. Hutton nodded, snapped his fingers, and the iron gate slid open automatically.