Ch. 132 - Stripping and Modding the Spell Book (Part One)
Is It Weird for a Guy to Apply to a Witch School?This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Ji Niang said, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Casting isn’t this easy for normal people. At the Visionary level, Psi-vision isn't just some convenient 'easy button.' If you think it’s so simple, try doing it again without relying on it. See how far you get then.”
She was right. We weren't even in the same league when it came to how we perceived the world.
“Uh… you want me to try right now?” I asked tentatively. I hadn't even realized I was leaning on it that hard.
I looked over at the fireball still trapped in the spatial field. It was still there, thrashing with heat and churning the air, dragging a long tail of flame behind it. But because of the ward, every millimeter of its progress took ages.
Every flicker, every internal ripple of energy—it was all laid bare before me. To my eyes, the spell had no secrets.
“Go for it. I’ll be right here,” Ji Niang said, her annoyance shifting into genuine curiosity. “Even if you mess up, it’s not like it’s going to kill you.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll try.” I took a deep breath, trying to get into the zone.
That last Fireball had completely drained one of my mana cores and definitely took a bite out of my mental stamina. I could handle one more, but it was a wake-up call.
I’d been slacking on my meditation lately, and it showed. My capacity hadn't grown much. Mana cores were great, but they were just external batteries—mental power was the only thing that was truly mine.
I thought of Tan Han for a second. She had so many mana cores… I wondered if her mind could even handle that kind of load.
I started to reach out with my mind to trigger the Spell Book inside me, but Ji Niang cut me off.
“Wait. Stop.”
“Huh?” I blinked, looking at her in confusion. “What is it now?”
“How exactly does your mental power locate the Spell Book? How do you pin down its position to trigger the spell?”
“What do you mean?” I stared at her, baffled. The question felt like someone asking how I knew how to move my own arm. How was I supposed to explain that?
“I just… send out a thread of consciousness, find where the Spell Book is, and fire it off?” I gestured vaguely toward my chest.
Ji Niang sighed, rubbing her temples with one hand. “You’re missing the point. I told you to try without Psi-vision. You think you can just toggle it on and off, don’t you?”
“Well… yeah. Pretty much.” If I couldn't turn it off, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the 'real' world and the distorted, terrifying landscape of Psi-vision.
“The truth is, Psi-vision doesn't really have a 'clean' off-switch,” she explained.
“You’re an innate Psi-visioner. I can't even imagine what your world looked like as a newborn, but you must have done something instinctively to dial it back—to suppress it.”
“You think you’re 'turning it off,' but in reality, you might just be filtering out the loudest parts. The world you see, even at its most basic, is probably nothing like what the rest of us see.”
I went dead silent.
That possibility had never even crossed my mind. I was a transmigrator; I knew what a 'normal' world looked like. How could I—wait.
Actually, it made a terrifying amount of sense. That perspective I used when I reached for the Spell Book—the way I 'sensed' its internal structure—I’d always just called that 'mental perception.'
Was that just a label I’d made up? Was it actually just another layer of Psi-vision I was using without realizing it?
“You look like you’re having an existential crisis,” Ji Niang said, her voice softening as she stepped closer to comfort me.
“Look, I’m not trying to rewrite your brain. If your worldview works for you, then it’s a valid way to navigate reality. I’m just giving you a different angle to look at—a new starting point.”
A flicker of panic crossed Ji Niang’s face.
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In her eyes, Yang Yuehan was still just a girl—a kid who had spent part of her childhood in a psychiatric ward.
Yuehan had managed to build a functional life, but that stability relied on her specific perception of reality. If that foundation crumbled because of a few careless words, that wouldn't be much of a problem.
For a Supra-level Psi-visioner, however, a cognitive crisis was no joke. Without reaching the level of Transcendence, a human mind simply couldn't process the sheer weight of reality's infinite possibilities.
If Ji Niang wasn't careful, Yuehan wouldn't just be confused—she’d end up like all the other innate visioners: a raving lunatic.
'I need to fast-track her progression toward Transcendence,' Ji Niang thought, her mind racing. 'Even if I just boost her life-tier for now, I have to stabilize her before she breaks.'
She watched Yuehan carefully, her voice dropping to a gentle, tentative whisper. "Are you alright, Yang Yuehan? Yuehan?"
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"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine," I said, snapping out of my daze. I caught that brief flash of worry in her eyes and quickly flashed her a reassuring smile. "Just thinking about the possibilities, that’s all. No big deal."
Wait, did she actually think I was about to have a mental breakdown?
I wasn't used to her being this protective. It was actually kind of sweet, in a weirdly cautious way.
But she didn't realize that, mentally, I was already an adult. If I ran into something I couldn't understand, I didn't spiral—I just shrugged it off.
Tell me the world was a lie and my existence was meaningless? Fine. I’d still enjoy my lunch. Finding joy in the moment was the only meaning I needed.
"So... do you still want me to try casting without the vision?" I asked, pointing toward the fireball still hovering in the spatial field.
If "turning off" my vision was actually impossible, I didn't see the point in wasting mana. I only had three mana cores, after all.
At this rate, that meant I only had three shots left in the tank.
Editor’s note: Yuehan… may I embody that philosophy in my life? I needed that more than ever.