After Soonchan left,
I stayed alone in the room, staring blankly at the mysterious book.
'What could this be?'
Ray Bell Bytener.
A being who harbored malice toward me,
and forged a crystal of that malice out of pure spite.
—or so I had thought.
'Soonchan couldn't open this book.'
At first, I thought it must have been magically set so that only I could open it.
Locking spells do exist.
There are authentication charms and such—it wouldn't be strange.
So I assumed that must be the case and began examining the magical formula engraved on the book.
However—
'There wasn't a single spell on it…'
No magic was detected in the book whatsoever.
And it wasn't just me who checked.
Soonchan verified it several times as well.
Yet neither of us could sense even a trace of mana from it.
'It's easy enough to make a one-time sound transmission spell leave no trace, but…'
Completely concealing a locking spell is impossible.
Hiding a spell that's still actively functioning?
Absolutely impossible.
It violates the very fundamentals of modern magic.
There's a faint chance someone might have invented such a spell, but—
'That's not it.'
Someone malicious enough to target me creating a groundbreaking, revolutionary new spell?
That's even more impossible.
The moment I realized that some kind of undetectable magic was inscribed in this book,
the possibility that it was a prank vanished.
'Then… is this really an original manuscript written by Ray Bell Bytener?'
Rationally speaking, the odds were low.
The 0.001% chance had maybe risen to about 1%.
"...Let's verify it."
But that 1% mattered.
From a magi-scientific standpoint, 1% is still a meaningful probability—something you must never ignore.
The problem was how to verify it.
'Experimenting directly would be too dangerous.'
Destroy the ring of mana, and circulate mana through your brain.
If I followed the instructions written there,
not only would my life as a mage end—there was a real chance my entire life would end, my brain dead.
I couldn't gamble my life on a 1% possibility.
"Then… let's raise that probability first."
Catching an opportunity isn't luck.
It's the result of meticulous calculation and analysis—
the risk-to-return balance,
acting organically based on every factor.
Only then can one truly grasp "opportunity."
'First, basic verification.'
I immediately left the room.
The place I headed to was the faculty office.
I knew that today's teacher on duty was Instructor Go Chang-su, the homeroom teacher for Class 1 of Year 2.
He should be here.
"Shin Ha-yul, right? What brings you here?"
He was.
He must've stepped out briefly to get coffee, since his seat was empty for a moment.
"If this is about today's practical lesson—"
"Instructor."
"Yes?"
Instructor Go Chang-su.
One of the three most famous figures in the entire academy.
A battle-specialized mage who's worked in the field for fifty years,
and such a talented teacher that even American institutions request his lectures.
"Could you please take a look at this book for me?"
I handed him Ray Bell Bytener.
If there was any magic on it, even if Soonchan and I missed it, Instructor Go would surely detect it.
"Hmm. Expensive-looking book at a glance."
He took the book.
"Ancient language, is it? I'm not unfamiliar with this linguistic system, but even so, this handwriting is difficult to read."
Even the cover's script was hard for him to decipher.
That was expected.
After all, he was a mage trained in modern magic—
not an archaeologist, and certainly not someone who would study obsolete, ancient languages without need.
Even if he had studied them, deciphering such atrocious handwriting would be beyond reason.
"So, what exactly are you asking?"
"If you don't mind… could you try opening it, sir?"
"Open it?"
He narrowed his eyes slightly, then shrugged as if to say why not, and attempted to open the book.
"...Hm?"
No, he tried to.
"Did someone glue this shut with superglue?"
"..."
Exactly the same.
Just like when Soonchan couldn't open it earlier.
Thump!
My heart pounded faster.
What emotion was this—
excitement? Elation?
Whatever it was, it definitely came from anticipation.
I gripped my trembling chest and forced myself to speak calmly.
"Could the reason the book won't open… possibly be a magical seal?"
"Seal?"
Go Chang-su frowned as if I'd said something ridiculous.
"It's just that… there's this odd rumor going around among the students about this book. I said it was nonsense, but…"
"Hm. A school ghost story, then."
"Yes, sir. I thought your confirmation would be the best way to put such rumors to rest."
He gave the book a thoughtful look, turning it this way and that.
"Getting distracted by superstitions is no good for your studies. But fine."
As expected.
If I framed it like that, he'd agree to check.
"Be quiet for a bit. I'll need to concentrate."
"Yes, sir."
He closed his eyes and placed his right hand on the book.
A magic circle formed beneath his palm—
a modified pentagram, clearly his own personal secret formation.
He focused intently on it for a long moment.
After about a minute—
I finally heard the answer.
"As I thought—it's just a silly rumor. There's no magical mechanism on this book whatsoever. I stake my name on it."
"...Thank you, sir."
Exactly the answer I had hoped—no, prayed—to hear.
After thanking the instructor and leaving the office, I went straight to the library.
My goal: to research Ray Bell Bytener.
Any information—no matter how trivial—would help.
I gathered every bit that seemed even remotely relevant:
his hobbies, his favorite foods, even details about his personality.
The library held a wealth of information on him.
I devoured it all as if possessed—
and finally, I found something that could be a clue.
"The magic of Ray Bell Bytener is said to have shattered the sky, called down rains of lightning, and transcended space and time."
A paper from twenty years ago, written in 2029—
a scholarly attempt to analyze Ray Bell Bytener's legends through the lens of modern magi-science.
"However, as with most myths, it is reasonable to assume these tales are fictitious."
"The limitations of archaic magi-science are clear. With that magical framework, it would be impossible to exhibit such godlike feats as breaking the sky."
Magic from a century ago had strict limits.
The eight-tiered magical system was simply too complex for humans to handle manually.
The human brain cannot perfectly process eight simultaneous tasks.
A few geniuses could—but even they had clear limits.
"Some records claim that only Ray Bell Bytener employed a different magical system, but that too is likely fiction."
"If such a system truly existed, it would have been passed down by now."
After confirming that much, I quickly pulled out another book.
"The next one is…"
I'd seen something like it before—
a paper on neuroscience.
Found it.
"Mana is a highly unique substance. When it interacts with the human brain, it causes neural overload and leads to brain death."
"On rare occasions, some individuals avoided brain death, but their personalities were destroyed, leaving them insane."
"A pity. If humans could use the brain—the central nervous system itself—for spellcasting, modern magic could have advanced to an entirely new level."
My heart had been pounding for a while now.
My breathing was ragged, and the corners of my lips kept curling up on their own.
Every single sign—from one to ten—was screaming that this book was real.
They say humans only believe what they want to believe.
Maybe that's exactly what I'm doing right now.
If that's the case, then linking what the doctor said on the day of the AI Implantation Ceremony to what's happening now might just be another form of self-justification.
"Shin Ha-yul's brain completely rejects external interference. There's no way to imprint artificial intelligence onto it."
That day had felt like the sky was collapsing.
The doctor had said that my brain possessed a unique trait: a total rejection of external interference.
If that characteristic was the same as the "special brain" described in this autobiography—
Then maybe my brain was completely immune to mana, that poisonous energy.
If so, then perhaps only I could inherit his magic, just as the book claimed.
My mouth went dry.
My heart followed suit, pounding violently.
The tremor of joy, and the tremor of fear—
two opposing emotions feeding fuel to the same engine in my chest.
To be honest, I was terrified.
There was no guarantee that what was written in this book was true.
No matter how much research I did, the odds remained around ten percent.
Overwhelmingly likely to be fiction.
And the price… was my circles—and my life.
A ten-percent chance was far too low to stake my existence on.
"Death…"
At the thought of it, my hands and feet trembled faintly.
Was I shaking because I lacked courage?
Would someone else have seized this opportunity without hesitation?
I closed my eyes and sat down as comfortably as I could.
Life is C(Choice) between B(Birth) and D(Death).
Wasn't that a quote from Jean-Paul Sartre?
Between life and death lie countless choices, and one must not let them slip away.
That was what it meant.
And right now, I stood at the greatest crossroads of my life.
If I thought rationally, the best thing to do was forget it.
I couldn't risk my life on such slim odds.
But then—
"If you do so, you shall become the greatest archmage in the world."
That single sentence refused to leave my mind.
If I chose comfort instead, could I really return to my old life?
Could I kick away the greatest opportunity I'd ever dreamed of, all because of something called fear—
and still keep moving forward as I always had?
'No.'
Impossible.
My will, my dream—they would both shatter.
To settle for less here would be to deny my entire life.
"Haa…"
I exhaled deeply and opened my eyes.
The answer had been decided all along.
"Ten percent."
A perfect probability for someone whose life was already broken.
I stood up.
"He who does not challenge, gains nothing."
Repeating those words to myself,
I headed for my room.
That night.
I sat alone in the center of my room, utterly focused.
Tonight, I would destroy the ring of my heart.
One step back for two steps forward.
I repeated that thought again and again as I focused mana into the three circles coiled around my heart.
I knew exactly how to destroy them.
My family had pressured me to do it before—sending detailed instructions and even an instant-acting pill along with their demand.
I gave a bitter smile as I stared at the pill in my hand.
A crystallization of my father's disappointment.
I remembered crying all day when it arrived.
A bitter memory.
'Never thought I'd actually take this.'
I took a few deep breaths, the pill clutched in my palm.
My resolve was already set.
No more hesitation.
I placed the pill in my mouth.
Thump!
My heart jolted violently—beating two, three times per second.
"Kh…!"
It hurt.
The three circles wrapped around my heart quivered, crushing it with their pressure.
The mana circuits within me shuddered violently.
The foreign substance invading my system tore apart the very structure of my mana.
"...Ah."
It hurt.
Not my heart—my soul hurt.
An agony like my eighteen years of life were collapsing all at once.
Tears almost welled up on their own.
Grit.
I bit my lip hard.
Now wasn't the time to cry.
I could save the tears for later—tears of triumph.
Whum, whum, whum—!
Gradually, the pain in my heart subsided.
The three circles completely lost their structure, dissolving back into mana.
As a mage, Shin Ha-yul was now effectively dead.
For now.
Yes—just for now.
'Let's go.'
Immediately, I circulated mana.
Even without circles, mana could still flow.
The remnants of the destroyed circles obeyed my will, flowing throughout my body.
Through my fingertips and toes, up my spine,
and finally—into my central nervous system.
My brain.
A domain deemed the ultimate taboo for mages.
I broke that taboo and guided mana into my brain.
I clenched my teeth, bracing for the impact.
The fear of "brain death" dominated my thoughts.
"...Huh?"
But—
What I felt wasn't pain. It was clarity.
Heehee.
A hallucination?
I thought I heard laughter—
the innocent laughter of a child.
Like floating down a cool river through a summer forest.
Refreshing.
Even the last traces of fear in my mind washed away.
At that moment, tears fell from my eyes.
A single drop.
Was it relief at the fact that I was still alive?
'No.'
It was different.
My survival itself was proof that Ray Bell Bytener's autobiography was real.
Realizing that, tears of joy streamed down my face.
Still trembling, I reached for the book beside me—Ray Bell Bytener.
I was sure that after the middle of page three, the rest had been blank.
But now, it was filled—
with that same, all-too-familiar, messy handwriting.
[Congratulations, my successor. No—
From now on, I should call you this instead.]
Was it my imagination—?
'Congratulations.'
Even the mana swirling inside my head seemed to be celebrating me.
[My disciple.]
It was the moment when my frozen time began to move once more.