Chapter 65: Excellent viewing experience, causes me to crawl and writhe

Lu Mingfei walked all the way down the metal corridor, and quite a few people still paused their research to cast their gazes upon him.

The last time Cassell College had a student with an "S"-grade bloodline was forty years ago. Such individuals were rarer than giant pandas, and even the mad scientists of the Equipment Department couldn't help wanting to catch a glimpse of the legendary figure.

After walking a fair distance, the pale and thin man opened a door without a label and walked in.

The space behind the door was narrow and simply furnished, with only a desk and two chairs. The man pulled out the chair behind the desk, half-reclined into it, and spoke in a listless voice:

"An 'S' rank. Although the school administration forces us to communicate with you once and tailor-make equipment for you, that doesn't mean we will accept whatever you say.

Well, actually, I think you coming here is just a waste of time. You haven't even studied the most basic alchemy yet."

Lu Mingfei also pulled out a chair and sat down, undisturbed by the man's dismissive attitude. He asked in a gentle tone:

"Do you have some blank paper and a pen?"

The man sneered, reached out to pull open the desk drawer, and threw a stack of A4 paper and a pencil at Lu Mingfei:

"There should be some unused white paper in there."

The sheets of A4 paper were already bound together, and the first few pages were covered with rough sketches of discarded weapon designs. Lu Mingfei didn't bother searching for a clean sheet of white paper; instead, he began to draw directly over the used, discarded drafts.

His drawing movements were natural and smooth, as if this draft, already scribbled over with white paper, still bore invisible lines marked in transparent ink that ordinary people could not see.

And Lu Mingfei simply traced along those lines marked by the transparent ink without thinking or being disturbed.

His movements were sometimes as gentle and delicate as carving flowers on tofu, and sometimes as wild and rough as slamming a pencil against the white paper. The pale man sitting opposite Lu Mingfei could not help being drawn by his "performance," casting his gaze onto that cluttered sheet of paper.

Then, he frowned:

"Mr. 'S'-rank, your purpose in coming here today isn't to waste my precious research and entertainment time, is it? If that really is the case, I have to admit you've succeeded."

Although the original weapon patterns disrupted what Lu Mingfei was drawing, it was still possible to tell that there were no lines related to weapons whatsoever on the paper.

Lu Mingfei turned a deaf ear to this, simply continuing to let his pen fall at a variable speed, adding bricks and tiles to the frantic, utterly formless pattern.

"Damn it, I've heard for a long time that the 'S'-rank freshman coming in this time has something wrong with his brain, but this illness is just too..."

The ignored man sighed and was about to say something more, but suddenly he held his breath.

Because Lu Mingfei had just dropped the final stroke—an exquisite yet wild stroke, a dispersed yet dominating stroke.

A stroke of sheer genius.

The lines that had previously been scattered across various corners seemed to be linked together by this sudden stroke, transforming the chaotic lines into a bizarre pattern of unprecedented impact and infectiousness.

"You should be a painter..."

The pale man muttered to himself.

An unprecedented viewing experience.

He felt as if he were walking from a dark night with a high moon into a narrow, crowded dark cave, moving forward uncontrollably with a growing sense of fear. The cave grew narrower and narrower...

In the end, he could only crawl on the ground, using his knees and elbows for propulsion, slithering forward like a caterpillar. Yet he still could not stop, even though he was completely wedged in the cave and unable to move, his consciousness still trying to mobilize the muscles in his body to wriggle deeper inside.

"No! Don't!"

The man felt as if he had completely suffocated. With difficulty, he expelled the last breath of air from his lungs, rolled off his chair onto the floor, flailing his hands and emitting a faint, near-death groan.

At this moment, Lu Mingfei sat in a slouching posture with his hands supporting the back of his head and his feet propped up on the desk, watching the man's dying struggle unfold before him.

This was one of the core enchantment runes from a powerful ancient spell he had obtained in his past life when paying homage to Zathogua, the Sovereign of the Crypt of Tsang.

A genuine, high-end piece of knowledge, carrying a much higher technical content than the technique of signaling great beings.

Seeking help from great beings mainly depended on luck—whether they were in the mood to pay attention to you or not. Setting up certain rituals and sacrifices to please them made success much easier, but in terms of technical content and comprehension difficulty, it wasn't actually that high.

If summoning rituals were about flattering leaders and playing the game of human relations, Zathogua's spells were equivalent to throwing an entire advanced mathematics textbook in your face and telling you to self-study.

Of course, that was merely an analogy. When dealing with great beings of higher life forms, the absolute number one rule was to minimize guesswork and analogies; the more you thought, the more wrong you would be.

In his past life, Lu Mingfei hadn't devoted too much energy to the study of magic because, compared to the "broad and smooth highway" of summoning rituals that allowed mortals to directly approach the truths of the universe, the pure study of magic would forever trap one within the shackles of lower-tier living beings.

Given Lu Mingfei's occult talents in his past life, he had ultimately failed to properly execute a single time the precious magic imparted by the Sovereign of the Crypt of Tsang, let alone the zero-foundation Equipment Department.

Then why did he throw out the high-level rune with the strongest impact and greatest mental corruption right from the start?

Naturally, it was to shock this bunch of untamable yet gifted madmen, instill a sense of awe in them, and forestall whatever bizarre nonsense Lu Mingfei didn't wish to see.

Could it possibly be because this man said Lu Mingfei's yellow tie was ugly?

What a joke, was he really that petty?

Lu Mingfei flicked his finger, and the pencil in his hand flew out, landing precisely and lightly on the middle-aged man's forehead.

The pale man, who had been thrashing and rolling on the ground unable to break free, suddenly shuddered, and then began to gasp heavily as if trying to suck the entire room's oxygen into his lungs in one go.

"Just now... what just happened?"

The man looked around in a daze, trembling violently.

This familiar, warm office-cum-laboratory that he almost never left seemed to have changed, becoming so stifling, so cramped and oppressive.

"I... I have to get out of here!"

The man steadied himself against the desk and stood up, stumbling as he tried to flee the office.

"Don't rush, don't rush..."

Lu Mingfei casually hooked his foot and tripped him. The middle-aged man tumbled to the ground, struggling to get back up, but Lu Mingfei pressed a foot onto his back, halting his movement.

Judging by Lu Mingfei's professional assessment, the man's sanity value had dropped too much all at once, inducing a mild case of claustrophobia.

The magic of the Sovereign of the Crypt of Tsang was always like this—making one feel as though they were buried deep underground, utterly obnoxious.

"Snap out of it. You're supposed to be a scientific genius, don't disgrace yourself."

He began to rapidly write and sketch on that stack of white paper. Every minute or two, a brand-new rune would appear, and soon a whole stack of runes was laid out before him.

He placed the stack of white paper on the desk and instructed:

"First, distribute these runes downward for study. I'll come back in a few days to teach you the methods of combination and engraving."