I Loaded the Occult Panel

Back home, Richard spread the two items out on his desk.

He picked up the Evil Eye Amulet first.

The blue eye was so old it was nearly blind, but a final trace of ether remained.

Richard held it in his hand, and that wisp of ether trickled incredibly slowly into his panel.

[Available Points] began to climb from 2.02.

It was indeed defective. The amulet didn’t have much in reserve, bottoming out once the points reached 2.39.

Richard kept absorbing until that wisp of ether snapped completely, then set the amulet down.

Now that it had been squeezed dry, the eye that ”looked back” was probably truly blind.

Next was the Naga Arm Ring.

This one had been thoroughly steeped, and it seeped out quickly.But its ether reserves were low too. If it truly possessed a majestic amount of ether visible to the naked eye, the auction house would have intercepted it long ago.

2.39... 2.51... 2.65...

When it climbed to 2.73, the wisp of ether faded.

Richard stopped, not squeezing it to the very last drop.

[Available Points: 2.73]

Two defective items had contributed a total of 0.71. That was decent enough—better than nothing.

The progress bar for [Sleep] Lv.2 had climbed past ninety percent, and [Eating] Lv.2 was about the same.

By the looks of it, these two would max out next week, allowing him to unlock the [Wild Sleep] and [Filtration] traits.

[Perception] had been rising the fastest lately.

Over the past six months, between the winter break internship, following that Virtuoso in the Unresponsive Pit, and helping Professor Mortimer dismantle seals, just ”looking” and ”listening” had fed [Perception] at a rapid pace.

At this rate, it would probably hit level two before [Walking] did.

Richard figured that by the time the summer study program rolled around in June, [Perception] might just hit level three.

Once he reached the Imperial Capital, he’d have to find a way to score another supernatural item or two.

If he had spare points, he planned to take the opportunity to expand his [Spiritual Capacity].

The ten points of pure ether in his [Spiritual Capacity] were the most stable source for nurturing the Sphinx Lamp; when fully charged, they also served as emergency capital during fieldwork.

Using it over the past six months, he had increasingly realized just how precious those ten points of pure ether were.

He just didn’t plan on using this particular point right now.

Expanding his [Spiritual Capacity] would have to wait until he had gathered enough points for several skill advancements. Its priority wasn’t that high.

Richard tucked the two supernatural items away in his drawer.

The aging eye of the Evil Eye Amulet and the sweating coiled snake of the Naga Arm Ring could both serve as research materials in the future.

Once his divination grew a bit more refined, he might even be able to reverse-engineer the amulet’s old ”an eye for an eye” reflection structure.

Outside, the sky darkened again, and a few drops of rain pattered against the windowpane.

Richard blew out the gas lamp.

...

On the third Saturday of May, Richard went to the Dawn Family to teach Tom for the final time.

When he arrived, Tom was already waiting in the study.

The boy sat at the desk, his back ramrod straight.

Two assignments were spread out on the table, the handwriting vastly neater than it had been six months ago.

”Look, sir.” Tom pushed the notebook over, puffing his chest out high.

”I’ve memorized all the third declension verb conjugations—amo, amas, amat... all the way to amant. I’ve memorized all three tenses.”

Richard scanned down the page and couldn’t find a single mistake.

Once today’s lesson wrapped up, he brought up his news.

”Tom, starting tomorrow, I probably won’t be able to come teach you anymore.”

Tom looked up, his face full of bewilderment.

”...Why?”

”I’m heading to the Imperial Capital,” Richard replied. ”For university.”

”Then... when you finish university, are you coming back?”

Richard didn’t answer.

Prep school at Imperial Capital University, then an undergrad degree, then working as a teaching assistant, a lecturer... That path his aunt had taken would require at least six years.

Beyond that, he still had an even longer, seemingly endless path to walk behind the veil.

Even if he did return to Briston in the future, he probably wouldn’t stay long.

”I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. ”Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

Tom gripped his notebook tightly.

”Then... who’s going to teach me Latin from now on?”

”Mrs. Dawn will hire another tutor for you.”

”I don’t want another tutor.” The boy’s voice was muffled.

”Other tutors will just make me memorize declension tables and punish me with copies if I can’t. But you...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, just lowered his head.

Richard looked at the twelve-year-old boy.

Six months ago, Tom had been a barefoot terror pacing the carpet, a Slingshot hidden behind his back, a little devil who had chased off three previous tutors.

Now, half a year later, he was sitting at his desk, tasting the bitterness of loss for the very first time because his teacher was leaving.

After the final lesson, the Dawn Family laid out a lavish appreciation banquet.

The spread was extremely generous.

Roast leg of lamb, creamy thick soup, a whole glistening trout, and baked potatoes sprinkled with thyme made by Mrs. Dawn herself.

The elusive Mr. Dawn, who had barely been seen over the past six months, was also present. The two exchanged a few pleasantries by way of greeting.

Tom sat next to Richard without causing a fuss, quietly picking at the food on his plate.

Richard had trained [Eating] to Lv.2, making even the blandest food taste delicious.

This table full of exquisite dishes whetted his appetite to the absolute limit.

Mrs. Dawn watched from the side as he polished off plate after plate, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothing out with pleasure.

”A good appetite is a blessing,” she said, serving Richard a large piece of trout.

”Look at how visibly you’ve filled out these past six months. When you first came, you were as thin as a beanpole.”

”The food in your home is nourishing, Ma’am,” Richard answered honestly.

Halfway through the meal, Tom suddenly raised his fork and asked, ”Sir, when you get to the Imperial Capital, will you still be able to eat food this good?”

”The food in the Imperial Capital is even fancier.”

Richard recalled the dinner banquet at the Ashford Residence.

”The names are impossibly long. Things like ’Slow-Braised Beef Brisket with Herbes de Provence Topped with Parmesan Crisps.’”

”That long?” Tom’s eyes widened.

”The longer the name, the more expensive it is,” Richard said with a straight face. ”So expensive you can’t even say the whole thing.”

Mrs. Dawn let out a burst of laughter.

After dinner, the servants cleared the table.

Mr. Dawn kept Richard behind in the dining room alone.

He was a burly middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard.

The man poured two glasses of port, pushing one over to Richard.

”Try it.”

”It’s a new arrival this year. You’re still young, so just take a sip to taste it.”

Richard picked up the glass, took a small sip, and didn’t drink anymore.

”That boy Tom.” Mr. Dawn leaned back in his chair.

”My wife and I have worried about him a lot. He chased off three tutors, and I was just about ready to give up.

”You pulled him right back onto the straight and narrow in just six months. I truly have to thank you for that.”

”Tom is naturally smart.”

Mr. Dawn waved his hand.

”There are plenty of smart kids out there, but very few teachers who can actually make a smart kid sit down and learn.”

He took a sip of his wine, steering the conversation to the main point.

”I heard from Charlotte that you’re heading to the Imperial Capital in the fall for university prep school.”

”Yes.”

”Proper higher education burns through a lot of money.” Mr. Dawn looked at him.

”Tuition, board, books, clothes... A place like the Imperial Capital demands money at every turn.

”Given your family’s situation, pardon my bluntness, but I imagine it’ll be a struggle.”

Richard didn’t reply. He didn’t know where Mr. Dawn was taking this.

”I have a proposal.” Mr. Dawn set down his glass.

”Our family is willing to sponsor your studies. From prep school all the way through your postgraduate degree, I’ll cover every expense.”

Richard’s hand froze around his glass.

”Mr. Dawn, this...”

”Hear me out first.” Mr. Dawn pressed a hand down to stall him.

”There’s no such thing as free money in this world, and I won’t beat around the bush. Sponsoring you definitely comes with conditions.”

”What conditions?”

Mr. Dawn leaned forward.

”Aside from running freight, I’m also in the paper business—Dawn Paper,” he explained.

”I also have a few friends who run factories and businesses.

”I’d like to ask you, in the future, to use your pen to ’say a few good words’ for us.”

Richard listened in silence.

”A well-written essay, a memorable piece of text.

”That’s more effective than if I spent a thousand pounds taking out an ad.

”I’ve read your article on the dock workers multiple times.

”My factory-owner friends read it too, and it left every one of them feeling a chill down the back of their necks.”

He pointed at Richard.

”That is real skill. I’m willing to pay money to buy your pen moving forward.”

The dining room fell silent for a moment. A log crackled in the fireplace.

Richard weighed the proposal in his mind.

The Dawn Family didn’t lack money. Sponsoring his studies would be a mere drop in the bucket for them.

The price was his ”good words,” one article after another, in the future.

From a businessman’s perspective, this deal was incredibly cost-effective.

”So, what do you say to my proposal?”

Richard set down his wine glass.

”Mr. Dawn, I appreciate your kindness. But I can’t accept this money.”

Mr. Dawn’s smile didn’t waver. ”Why not?”

”I have a few reasons,” Richard said, listing them out.

”Tom is a fun kid, Charlotte is straightforward, and you and your wife have been very generous to me.

”I’ve been very comfortable coming here to teach these past six months, and I don’t want money to turn this bond into a purely transactional relationship.”

Mr. Dawn didn’t speak, just listened quietly.

”Moreover, I don’t actually need the money right now,” Richard continued.

”I still have some prize money left from the Cicero Cup, and I’ve saved up a bit from tutoring and my writing fees.

”The expenses in the Imperial Capital may be high, but my grandfather can also lend me a hand.”

”But those are minor points. The most important is the third reason.”

”Tell me.”

Richard looked him right in the eyes.

”You said it yourself—my article on the dock workers sent a chill down people’s necks.

”Why did it do that? Because it didn’t speak on anyone’s behalf, nor did it cover up for anyone.

”It just laid out the facts exactly as they were.”

”Once a pen is bought by someone...

”...it ceases to be a ’signboard’ and it ceases to be a ’target’.

”It’s just a tool. And once a tool has served its purpose, it gets thrown away.”

Richard thought back to the words Mrs. Dawn had spoken to him a few days ago, handily borrowing them.

”Mrs. Dawn told me last time.”

”’With writing, you either stop completely, or you keep writing forever. Stopping halfway is the most dangerous thing of all.’”

Richard spoke slowly, enunciating every word.

”The reason my pen still holds some value is exactly because it doesn’t speak for anyone. It is an independent pen.

”If it started speaking on behalf of others, it would be utterly worthless.”

Mr. Dawn stared at Richard for a long time, his eyes full of admiration.

”Good! Well said, an ’independent pen.’”

Richard was a little surprised. He had thought Mr. Dawn would be at least slightly disappointed or displeased.

”Did you think I’d be angry?” Mr. Dawn chuckled, shaking his head.

”Kid, I still have a good eye for people. I brought this up without expecting you to agree.”

”A person who can write that kind of article.” Mr. Dawn lifted his glass.

”If he were willing to take money to say nice things for people, he wouldn’t have been able to write an article like that in the first place.”

”How about this, then,” Mr. Dawn said, looking at Richard.

”If I have any paper or connections you can use on my end...

”...just ask. No IOUs, no money required. Consider it a gift as a gesture of friendship.”

A warmth blossomed in Richard’s heart.

”And that boy Tom,” Mr. Dawn added.

”If you ever have free time when you return to Briston in the future, I’d still like to ask you to give him some pointers.

”We’ll count that as a favor between friends, not employment.”

”Deal.” Richard nodded solemnly.

Mr. Dawn leaned back against his chair.

”Alright then. I’ll have the driver take you back.”