I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Mr. Hutton walked in the opposite direction, handing him the key to the back door before leaving, and told him to lock it and go out through the gap in the wall.

Richard locked the door, walked along the wall to the lower section on the east side, and climbed over it.

There weren't many people on the street.

He put his hand in his pocket, his right thumb and forefinger pinching the silver coin.

The panel was quietly lit up in a corner of my consciousness.

Available points: 0.25

The silver coin appreciated by 0.1 when I first received it, and it's still appreciating.

Unlike the Sphinx lamp, the residual ether on the silver coin was not sealed or suppressed, and although the seepage was slow, it was much more unobstructed than that of the lamp.

When I got to the bottom of the steps at my front door:

Available points: 0.5

The numbers stopped.

He took the silver coins out of his pocket and examined them under the streetlight.

The bluish-gray frost had completely disappeared, and the surface of the silver coin had regained its pure, old silver luster.

It's been sucked dry.

A silver coin with a history of over 300 years served as a sealing and filtering medium, leaving behind residual ether, totaling approximately 0.4.

He stuffed the silver coin back into his pocket and began to make comparisons in his mind.

Bronze pendant: 1 point, a thousand-year-old artifact, an extraordinary remnant preserved in its original state;

Divine Descent Plate: 1 point, also an ancient artifact from the Eastern Continent, dating back over a thousand years;

Sphinx Oil Lamp: When sealed, it can only absorb 0.1% at a time, but if the seal is broken, the total amount may be more than 1%.

Silver coin: 0.4 points, only three or four hundred years old, and not an original artifact, but a byproduct of the sealing process.

There is a subtle positive correlation between the year and the points.

The older the artifact, the more extraordinary remnants it contains, and the more points it can provide.

If this hypothesis is correct:

How many extraordinary artifacts, those with a history of thousands of years or even longer, such as the tools from the height of the priestly class in the Black Earth River Basin, or the sacred objects in the Temple of Aegeus, must contain?

Two o'clock? Four o'clock? Seven o'clock?

He stood on the steps for a while, suppressing his excitement.

Tonight has been very fruitful.

I witnessed the entire process of reinforcing the seal firsthand, which verified a key hypothesis: the ether diffused in the air cannot be converted into points by the panel.

In addition, I gained 0.4 usable points, a piece of gray stamen grass, and a minor self-defense technique.

The cognitive update brought to him by that afterimage was more profound than any description in any book.

He took out his key and turned the doorknob as quietly as possible.

The living room is black, and the kitchen is black too.

Richard carried his shoes in his hand, walked barefoot up the stairs, one step at a time.

The old wooden planks creaked very slightly underfoot.

Walking down to the second-floor corridor, I saw that the area under the door to my sister's room was also dark.

He tiptoed over, about to push open his bedroom door...

"stop."

The sound came from the darkness, with a slightly nasal tone.

Richard's heart skipped a beat when he realized that his room door had been opened from the inside.

Evelyn was sitting on his bed wrapped in a blanket.

The girl's hair was loose, and her eyes were half-open and half-closed; she had clearly been waiting in his room for a long time.

Do you know what time it is?

Richard glanced down at the clock hanging in the corridor; it was too dark to see it clearly.

"...Around 11 o'clock."

"11:47." Evelyn's tone was icy, clearly indicating she had specifically checked the time.

"I went for a walk."

"I took a walk until 11:47."

"The air is better at night."

"Is the air good in Bristol?"

Indeed, the city smells of coal smoke during the day, so it's hard to believe that the air is good at night.

Evelyn got out of bed, the blanket slipped off her shoulders, and she grabbed it and wrapped it back around herself.

Moonlight streamed in through a small window at the end of the corridor, illuminating that lovely little face until it appeared deathly pale.

She walked up to Richard and sniffed him a few times like a puppy: "You smell nice."

Richard inwardly felt a sense of foreboding.

The damp, cold smell of the basement, mixed with the rust and must have clung to you.

"I passed by the flea market during my walk."

"The flea market is closed at night."

"The smell wafted out when I passed by."

Evelyn looked him up and down.

He wore a dark, old coat, his trousers were covered in dust, and he carried his shoes in his hand. He walked barefoot so as not to wake anyone, and there was dirt between his fingers.

I never had to worry about my brother staying out all night before.

Richard, who was always sick, couldn't even sneak out in the middle of the night; he'd have to come back and lie in bed for half a day if he tried to walk even a few steps faster.

What now?

Spend all day in the library until dark;

He rode home in a luxury car driven by a wealthy female classmate.

I went out at night and didn't come back until almost midnight, covered in mud and dust.

She found herself completely unable to keep up with her brother's pace of change.

"elder brother."

"Um."

"Have you joined any gang?"

"...What?"

"Those gangs in the old town, the kind that steal and fight."

"Evelyn, you know I can't fight."

"That's why you joined a gang, someone will protect you."

Li realized that his conversations with his sister never followed normal logic.

From "being kept" to "gang," this young girl's thought process jumps too far.

"I am not affiliated with any gang."

"Then what were you doing out in the middle of the night?"

"It really was just a walk."

Do my parents know?

"have no idea."

Evelyn wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, but didn't continue questioning, nor did she return to her room.

After a standoff lasting about ten seconds, she moved aside, leaving the doorway open.

"Go back to sleep."

"it is good."

"Just leave your dirty clothes by the door. I'll get up early tomorrow to wash them for you so Mom won't see them."

Under the moonlight, the girl wrapped in a blanket had disheveled hair and her eyes were still hazy from just waking up.

She looked completely different from the usually capable and efficient Evelyn; she resembled a little owl nestled in its nest... Her round face was puffed out, and she stared at you with half-asleep eyes, looking fierce, but she was actually just sleepy.

"Thank you, Evelyn."

"What are you thanking me for?" She turned her head away. "I don't care what you're doing."

"But promise me... don't get hurt, don't get sick, and don't worry Mom anymore."

When you had your worst fever last time, Mom sat by your bedside the whole time, barely drinking any water.

She murmured:

"Although Dad didn't say anything, he didn't go to work those two days."

The corridor was quiet for a while.

"I promise you," Richard said.

Evelyn didn't answer, but pushed open her bedroom door and went inside.

The door closed, and the latch gently engaged in the slot.

A few seconds later, a muffled sound came from under the door:

"Leave your dirty clothes by the door, don't forget."

"understood."

"And remember to wipe the mud off your feet."

"understood."

I'll fry an extra egg for you for breakfast tomorrow.

"……good."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Richard closed his bedroom door, took off his dirty coat, folded it, and placed it by the door.

I found an old cloth and wiped the dust off the soles of my feet.

The sweat on the back of the shirt had dried, leaving a ring of salt stains.

He took off his shirt and placed it on top of his coat.

He sat on the edge of the bed in the dark and took out the silver coins and gray stamens from his pocket.

The silver coin was placed on the bedside table, and the gray stamen was clipped to a notebook cover.

My breathing gradually returned to its normal rhythm during the night.

Richard pulled the blanket up and closed his eyes.

The wind whistled through the chimneys of Briston outside the window.

The pillow is cool and feels very comfortable against the back of my head.

Today I glimpsed a corner of the real mystery, more real than any forum post he had ever read.

But the candles are already lit; whether the eyes in the darkness can see them or not is their problem.

All he had to do was make the flames burn brighter, even brighter.

Until one day, even when those eyes saw it, they dared not come closer.