I decided that Psi-vision was my true path forward.
After leaving the cafe, I headed straight for the library. I wanted to see how the School of Transcendence actually defined the ability—if they saw it as a glimpse into some kind of "Inner World" or something deeper.
If I had to describe Psi-vision to a normal person, I’d use a gaming metaphor. Most people saw the beautiful graphics, the immersive environments, and the smooth gameplay. They saw the "experience."
I saw the source code.
Where others saw stunning landscapes and bustling crowds, I saw moving textures, wireframe models, and the raw logic running beneath it all.
For most players, that would be a total immersion-breaker—a one-star review waiting to happen. But I didn't have the luxury of quitting the game.
This was Reality Online.
But I’d survived the initial shock. I’d adapted. And now, that "bug" was becoming my greatest weapon for uncovering the truth of the world.
Once I reached the library, I started hunting for introductory books on Psi-vision. I believed in taking things one step at a time; there was no shame in that an expert is reading the basics. You needed a solid conceptual foundation before you could dive into the deep end.
I eventually found a promising primer and took it to a quiet corner to start reading.
The book began by breaking down the etymology. The term "Psi-vision" was originally rooted in the concept of the "Soul" or "Spirit"—the ancient idea that everything in the world possessed a spiritual essence. Since this ability allowed one to "see" that essence, the name stuck.
It made sense. If you assumed the "Soul" was just another word for the Transcendent layer of reality, then Psi-vision was literally the act of seeing the fundamental nature of all things.
In the old days, "Spiritual Power" was a catch-all term for all Transcendent energy. It wasn't until later that scholars broke it down into specifics like "Elements," "Natural Forces," "Mana," and "Witch Power."
It reminded me of how we used to just call everything "air" before we realized it was actually a mix of oxygen, nitrogen, and other gases. The definitions had become clearer, even if they had become a lot more complicated to memorize.
Then, the book got into the origins of the ability. It claimed Psi-vision was a "Blessing of the World"—which lined up with how the Earthvein system classified it as a Talent.
To be precise, it wasn't a direct gift, but rather the result of a worldwide ritual that granted certain individuals the sight. This sight had eventually evolved into a unique "Power System" within my world.
And like any power system, it had tiers.
The book listed the six stages of Psi-vision progression: Visionary, Insight, Veilshift, Mindrift, Supra, and Coreal.
When I hit the word Supra, my heart skipped a beat. It finally clicked. I remembered the Earthvein status screen and the word listed next to my Psi-vision stat.
It wasn't a description. It was my rank.
Supra. That meant I was already at the fifth stage.
If I managed to break through just one more level to reach Coreal, would I be invincible?
I stared at my hands, flexing my fingers. Okay, so I didn't feel invincible yet. Psi-vision wasn't a raw power level; it was a system of perception. "Power System" didn't always mean a path to physical strength—it could also mean a path of capability.
In that case, raw power was just a side effect of the system. This meant that my Psi-vision should, in theory, allow me to wield an equivalent amount of power.
I just didn't know how to use it yet.
A new wave of confidence washed over me. This was it—the ultimate "Isekai" cheat code. It was a shame, really; if I hadn't taken the time to learn the theory, I might never have realized just how high-tier I actually was.
Even though I felt a surge of smug satisfaction, I forced myself to cool down. My understanding of the Transcendent world was still dangerously thin.
The fundamental issue was the gap in my knowledge. I knew I needed to learn, but I couldn't afford to study blindly. I needed to be surgical about what I picked up.
Even in the middle of this massive library, I felt like a fool standing in a treasure vault without a map. Because I lacked the proper terminology, I didn't even know which "keywords" to use in the search terminal.
Searching for "Psi-vision" was a lost cause; the results were way too broad. To make matters worse, some of the titles felt like total clickbait. A book labeled “A Brief Overview” would turn out to be a dense, professional thesis, while something called
An In-Depth Analysis would be filed under children’s pop-science.
It was in moments like this that having a mentor really mattered. Naturally, my mind went to my advisor, Ji Niang. Our first meeting had been... dramatic, to say the least. Part of me still felt she was dangerous, yet she also projected a strange sense of reliability. She had promised to help me decode that unknown [Transcendent Knowledge], which was a tempting offer. But I wasn't that reckless. In the Transcendent world, one wrong step could lead to total ruin.
I wanted to live a long life, so I decided to shelf the "Knowledge" issue for now—at least until Ji Niang brought it up herself. When that happened, I’d probably be forced to learn it whether I wanted to or not.
I slid the book I’d just finished back onto the shelf, but I was at a total loss as to what to pick next.
"That’s a surprise. I didn't expect to run into you in the library."
The voice cut through my thoughts, making me jump.
I turned around to find a familiar face. It was Tan Han. What is she doing here? I thought, before quickly correcting myself. Actually, it makes perfect sense for her to be here. Before classes officially started, the library was the best place to get a head start on power.
"Tan Han..." I started, but I quickly averted my eyes.
"Are you in some kind of trouble? I get the feeling you’re avoiding me," Tan Han said. She didn't beat around the bush; to her, my sudden cold shoulder must have seemed completely irrational.
I looked down and stayed silent for a long moment before deciding to just level with her. If I wanted to avoid drama, I had to be direct. "I’m sorry. I gave someone my word that I wouldn't associate with you anymore."
"What? Why? To whom?" Tan Han’s questions came like rapid fire. "Is someone threatening you? Just tell me who it is, and I’ll go 'convince' them to back off."
"It’s... a girl I’m very close with. Look, I’m doing this of my own free will. Nobody is threatening me, so don’t overthink it. I just hope we can keep a friendly distance from now on. Thanks."
I explained it one word at a time, though I could see the confusion lingering in her eyes.
"Are you sure about this? Because I have to say, this feels a little cold-blooded," Tan Han said, letting out a self-deprecating laugh as if trying to break the tension.
"I know. All I can say is that I'm sorry."
"And you really don't want to explain why?"