His figure slowly descended from the sky, landing softly on the tiles of the bookstore's roof.
Eric still stood on the roof ridge, head tilted back, staring unblinkingly at the dark purple sky.
His lips were trembling slightly, a sign that his inspiration was under pressure far beyond his capacity to bear.
Fortunately, the strangeness within Eric's body, through Jeming's meticulous arrangement, had formed an initial cycle.
His resistance to such things had greatly improved, so he wouldn't collapse to the ground on the spot.
But even so, a layer of cold sweat formed on Eric's forehead.
"Teacher." His voice was a bit unsteady, "What on earth is happening?"
Jeming did not answer immediately.
He jumped down from the roof, landing on the stone pavement at the bookstore's entrance, pushed open the wooden door, and went inside.
Eric followed behind, one hand on the doorframe, his steps slightly unsteady.
The bookstore's phone was ringing.
