I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Before March was even over, Richard started going to Professor Mortimer's office.

He has never been the passive type. Now that people have opened their private book collections to him, it would be utterly ungrateful of him not to take the initiative.

The old professor wasn't lying to him; that room hadn't been archived for decades.

The files were piled up from the top of the bookshelf all the way to the windowsill, so heavy that the curtains couldn't be drawn properly.

Several stacks of them grew along the wall; if you pulled one out, the bottom part would peel off along with the wall plaster.

"Start with that stack in the corner," Mortimer said, pointing with his teacup.

"Make a copy for your records, and I'll keep the original separately."

"Did you copy it wrong?"

"If you copied it wrong, copy it again." The old professor put his feet up on another chair.

"I don't have a second pen in my inventory."

Richard sat down at the empty corner of the table by the window and arranged the bottle of ink that his aunt had given him, which seemed to never run out.

The first stack contains seal maintenance records from decades ago, with illegible handwriting and outdated terminology.

[Extensive Knowledge] He absorbed every page into his mind, and [Knowledge Level 4] that ever-expanding network connected these old terms with the new systems he had read, one by one.

They copied it very quickly.

He didn't slow down until noon.

The document in my hand is a diagram of how to dismantle a lower-level seal, with a line of small print written next to it by the accompanying scholar.

"To seal something, you must first define it; otherwise, the bond will not be strong."

Richard stared at this line for a long time.

All the seals he had broken and examined over the past year ultimately boiled down to the same sentence.

If you want to put something in a cage, you have to define it first.

Circle its boundaries and explain what it is and what it is not.

The right to define is the scholar's duty and the root of the entire mystical world's operation.

Richard's pen stopped on the paper, and the ink smudged down to form a small dot.

He suddenly realized something that sent chills down his spine.

The person on the other side of the sea wants to investigate him. The first step is to categorize the suspects so that they can be found: sacrificers, hiders, people inside the empire, and so on.

The Ministry of the Interior wants to keep an eye on him. The first step is to label him in his file as someone who is very good at hiding his true intentions and is skilled at socializing.

The hunter accepted his goods, but in his mind he was also labeling him as a young man with good stuff and a mysterious origin.

When Hecate handed him the mask, heaven knows that deep within that etheric structure lay a thread that only she could move.

Before they can make a move against themselves, they must first find out Richard Williams' background.

"What are you thinking about?"

Mortimer's voice drifted over from the other side.

"You spent half an hour copying that, and you didn't move a single word. The ink is almost dripping through the paper."

"I'm thinking about something."

"Think about things, but don't stop writing." Mortimer put his feet off the chair.

"If you stop now, all the progress you made this afternoon will be wasted."

Richard scraped off the small ink stain with a blade and started writing again.

My hands were copying, but the thought in my mind kept getting more and more entangled.

These days, all he can think about is "how to become stronger".

That book made it very clear to him when he first stepped into the mystical realm: the stronger you are, the clearer the veil will see you.

The brighter the candle burns, the easier it is to be seen by eyes at a distance.

Becoming stronger means placing yourself in a brighter spot, making yourself more visible to everyone.

Richard finished copying the last line and gently set the copy aside.

Mortimer glanced at him but didn't urge him further.

"That's all for today." The old professor poured the last bit of tea from the teapot into his cup.

"Leave your copy on the table; you can continue copying it tomorrow."

Richard stood up and screwed the cap back on the ink bottle.

"professor."

"Um?"

"To define something is to put it in a cage."

"And what about the reverse?"

Mortimer paused for a moment, his hand holding the teacup still.

The old professor raised his eyes, and the turbidity in his half-open, half-closed eyes faded.

"On the other side," he repeated slowly.

"No one can define it... it's not in any cage."

Why are you asking this?

"Just thinking." Richard took his coat off the back of the chair.

"Just think of something." The old professor repeated the sentence and snorted through his nose.

"Every time you say you're just thinking about it, something always ends up happening."

Richard didn't reply, but bowed to him and went out the door.

The wind, still carrying the tail end of winter, blew in from the end of the corridor.

Back in his dormitory, Richard, pen in hand, drew a line under the inviolable rule of the messenger.

This will be most useful when the day comes that someone is actually pursuing you.

He is a neutral party who oversteps boundaries, and is protected by them. Anyone who tries to take advantage of him has to think twice.

But after he hesitated for two seconds, the pen stopped.

Under whose protection?

Hermes's protection, in the end, was based on his rank.

What good is it for a little fish to hold up a sign that says "This fish is not edible" in front of a shark?

Sentencing, contracts, extradition, inviolability... these are all things that are only used "after being targeted".

Their premise is that they have already been exposed.

No matter how well a prey trains, it is still prey.

The problem is never how to escape after being caught.

It shouldn't have been seen in the first place.

Hermes has so many identities: messenger, god of commerce, orator, guardian of scholars, guide of souls, god of words and trickery.

In fact, all these identities are doing the same thing.

He is the only being allowed to travel back and forth between any two things that are separated.

There is a boundary between God and man, and only he can cross it.

Buying and selling, life and death, truth and falsehood—the boundary in between is insurmountable for others, but only He can cross it.

The messenger conveys God's message, so that the message travels from one side to the other.

The ferryman delivers the soul, meaning the soul travels from one side to the other.

A debater uses his eloquence to convey reasoning from his own mind into the hearts of others.

The god of deceit allows things that shouldn't pass through to sneak through.

One word—smooth.

The saying "The messenger shall not be violated" is proof of this.

He is protected because He is the neutral one who offends no one and can move back and forth between the two sides.

Richard finally understood the price of the mask at that moment.

The curtains around him became transparent, because the doors were open on both sides.

To attract the deceased, leave the door open; the deceased will come to you through the door.

The traveler is restless; the door is right at your feet, and you can't stay still.

All three costs were byproducts of "getting through".

What if we close this door from the inside?

Richard's heart skipped a beat.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed, so he clicked on "Shadow Twist".

【The Reversal of Shadows (inversio umbrae)】

The Shadow Radiance is complete, and the Twin Serpent Staff has been formed.

This time, the "Not Mastered" message did not pop up on the panel.

【Shadow Reversal: The Mask of Hermes】

[Reversal Result: Persona Aversa]

Effect: Closes the "through" path.

Any attempt by an external force to define, name, or overwrite the holder's identity will be repelled and backfire on the target.

[Restriction: Those of higher rank can only be weakened to a certain extent.]

[Side effect: The original Hermes Mask cannot be used during the spell;]

The holder will become difficult to identify when behind the veil; seals and spells that rely on the veil for recognition will fail to recognize the holder.

Richard read on, line by line, and found that the path to "access" was closed off, while the root of Hermes was that the door was open to both sides, allowing anything to pass through.

A reversal is like closing the door from the inside, preventing concepts from flowing in.

The person across the sea who is best at using aliases must first be defined as someone who can be replaced.

The hunter wanted to categorize him, while Hecate wanted to plant a thread within him through the mask.

Richard's heart was pounding faster and faster. Now he could name others, but others couldn't define him.

One for offense, one for defense; a complete set of sword and shield.

He also looked at the section on side effects very carefully.

"The holder will become difficult to identify on the side of the curtain."

This is only natural and cannot be defined as two sides of the same coin.

If others can't define him, then those behind the curtain can't recognize him either.

He will become something whose outline cannot be seen on the other side of the curtain.

For those beings who judge friend from foe based on instinct, he is neither an enemy nor a friend.

It could probably be considered a mass of unreadable white noise?

This will cause a lot of trouble. Some of the seals that are supposed to protect him will not recognize him and will treat him as an outsider, keeping him out.

He couldn't get into some places that required identity verification.

However, this ability is on/off, so you can switch it on or off as needed.

Richard made a mental note of this, reminding himself of it.

A shadow emerged from behind the curtain.

He decided to experiment with shadows first.

"Put it on."

The thought was passed on, and the shadow covered its own featureless face with the bronze mask.

As soon as the mask was on, Richard activated the [Mask of Rebellion] in his mind.

The change was extremely subtle; the patterns on the golden-winged twin snakes flipped over in the spiritual vision.

Originally, the two golden snakes were outstretched, as if they were trying to expel what was inside.

After turning over, the snake bit its own tail with its head facing inward, sealing the inside of the mask shut.

The "transparency" that the Hermes mask had created around the shadow had disappeared.

On the night of the day of mourning, shadows wearing masks moved about on the shallows.

If it weren't for Lady Mary's presence, it would probably have attracted a lot of attention in less than half a minute.

This time, there was no attention whatsoever.

Conversely, Richard, looking at the shallows behind the curtain through the wisp of spirit embedded in the shadow, also felt something was amiss.

Even the outline of the shadow became blurred in his own perception.

Richard activated his Mirror Condensation Technique.

A mirror can reflect darkness, but it cannot reflect a fog without any outline.

The shadow beneath his feet became something that couldn't be reflected in a mirror.

Richard noted this down and then tried others.

He made the shadow walk towards him, while mentally activating the recorder's pen, trying to name the shadow.

"Shadow Guard".

The ether was pushed out, landed on the shadow, and bounced back.

Even his own name can't be accessed anymore.

"It seems they don't distinguish between friend and foe," Richard muttered to himself.

Richard removed the mask of the traitor, and the flipped mask on the shadow's face dissolved.

The face of adversity is still very weak.

However, all the techniques of [Shadow Reversal] grow along with the original techniques, so at least the future looks bright.

Richard suddenly felt a little relieved.

Development, it still needs to develop.

With a cheat system, as long as I don't die, I will eventually develop to the point where I can no longer be controlled by anyone.

The premise is that others give him the opportunity to develop, so he cherishes any ability that allows him to survive.

Just then, someone downstairs called his name.

"Williams! There's a letter for you!"

Richard went downstairs to get it.

One of them was from Evelyn.

The envelope was bulging, and when I opened it, a small piece of something fell out besides the letter.

It was a small, flattened piece of rabbit-shaped gingerbread, and the hat was still askew.

The letter said that sugar regulations were becoming increasingly strict, and she had tried seven or eight versions of her sugar-free formulas before finally getting the ninth generation of Professor Rabbit to stand out.

"This one is made with honey and apple puree, so it's sweet even without sugar."

Another line was added below.

"Mom said something happened to Grandpa. Are you okay? If you are, write back. Don't make Mom ask Auntie every day."

Richard held the piece of gingerbread in his hand, looked at it, and then put it in his mouth.

The sweetness of honey mixed with the tartness of apple slowly melts on the tongue.

My sister's cooking skills have improved again.

The second letter was from Grey.

The letter is short.

Her family's boat, which had been requisitioned and then returned, was never able to set sail again.

The Navy only temporarily suspended the requisition, and there was no definite news on when it would be requisitioned again, so her father docked the ship in the harbor.

At the end of the letter, Grey drew a kitten and wrote a line of text next to it.

"The bean on the balcony sprouted a little bit of green this morning."

"It's just a tiny bit, barely bigger than a pinhead. Do you think it's really going to sprout?"

………………

On February 25th, Associate Professor Croft was seven minutes late.

This has never happened to him before.

He entered with a copy of the "Beijing Morning Post" tucked under his arm.

"Yesterday afternoon." He spread the newspaper out on the podium.

"The church, civil society associations, branch offices, and the military—the third four-party coordination meeting."

He raised his eyes and glanced at the people sitting below.

"The 'Wartime Psychic Activities Control Order' was passed unanimously."

No one made a sound in the classroom.

"Last time, they were closed for six weeks to meet the standards for blackout regulations."

He picked up the cup of bitter tea and drank it all in one gulp.

"Gentlemen, remember this day."

"The empire's administrative machinery needs enough lubricant to function."

He didn't say what the lubricant was.

Croft turned the page of the newspaper.

"Keep listening, there's something even funnier."

"The parliament also passed a bill yesterday: banning psychic gatherings."

Someone in the back row raised their hand.

"Sir, isn't this a good thing?"

"That's a good thing," Croft said.

"Listen to your reasons."

He lowered his head and continued reading.

"...Given that wartime psychic gatherings are easily exploited by enemy spies, and that attendees often involve the dissemination of military intelligence, unit numbers, and casualty lists, in accordance with Article ..." of the National Defense Act

He pushed the newspaper away.

"After investigating for several months, they concluded that those unorthodox mediums were likely spies."

"The action was done correctly, but the reasoning was utterly wrong."

Fisher muttered something under his breath in the back row.

"That's better than doing nothing."

"No." Croft heard this and turned around.

"Banning these unlicensed mediums means banning gatherings. People will stop gathering and instead, they will switch to one-on-one home visits."

"Visiting is a closed-door matter; the police can't get in."