Lin Yu's school life remained calm on the surface, but his mind never stopped moving.
By the time he entered high school, he had gathered enough information to sketch the outline of this world.
And the outline was… familiar.
First finding: Science had reached a critical point.
Touchscreen phones had only emerged in the last decade. Portable smart devices were spreading rapidly, but the technology behind them was still treated with awe. People trusted science deeply—but they also sensed that it was standing at the edge of something bigger.
More importantly, modern physics had hit the same wall as his previous world.
Scientists openly admitted it.
More than ninety percent of the universe was invisible.
Dark matter.
Dark energy.
They were everywhere. They shaped galaxies. They governed expansion. And yet—
No one could use them.
No one could touch them.
No one even knew what they truly were.
Lin Yu stared at a documentary paused on his laptop screen, equations frozen mid-frame.
"So even here," he murmured, "the universe is mostly darkness."
Just like before.
Second finding: Stories were… incomplete.
Online novels existed, but their genres were painfully narrow.
Historical drama.
Science fiction.
Urban romance.
Workplace stories.
That was it.
There were no worlds where people cultivated power.
No magic.
No immortals.
No transcendence through personal effort.
Fantasy, as a genre, simply didn't exist.
Readers wanted realism. Writers feared ridicule.
Lin Yu blinked slowly.
"…Really?"
A strange expression crossed his face—half disbelief, half amusement.
Then a memory surfaced.
A very embarrassing one.
In his previous life, there had been a month—exactly one month—where he had woken up early every morning, sat cross-legged on his bed, closed his eyes, and tried to "sense spiritual energy."
He had followed a forum guide. Controlled his breathing. Emptied his thoughts.
After thirty days of sore legs and absolutely nothing happening, he had quietly given up and never spoken of it again.
Lin Yu covered his face with one hand.
"…I was really stupid."
Then he froze.
And slowly lowered his hand.
But what if I wasn't?
The thought struck him with terrifying clarity.
He stood up abruptly, heart beginning to race.
"A new genre," he said softly.
Cultivation novels.
A world where humans grew stronger not through machines or genetics—but through absorbing dark energy, the very substance science already admitted filled the universe.
It fit.
Too well.
Dark energy existed.
People accepted that it existed.
They simply believed it was unusable.
All he had to do was change one thing.
What if it wasn't?
"If I write it as fiction…" Lin Yu muttered, pacing his room, "…no one will reject it outright."
As long as the plot wasn't complete trash, it would spread. Especially among young people. Teenagers. Dreamers. People dissatisfied with ordinary life.
And if even a few of them tried to imitate the techniques—
His breath grew shallow.
"I can even copy novels from my previous life," he whispered.
Change spiritual energy to dark energy.
Change sects to research schools.
Change immortals to transcendents.
No copyright issues.
Those stories didn't exist here.
This world had never heard them before.
Lin Yu stopped pacing.
His eyes sharpened.
"I don't need everyone to believe it," he said.
"I just need enough."
He sat down on his bed and closed his eyes.
For the first time since awakening his talent, he reached inward deliberately.
Not forcefully.
Carefully.
The authority responded.
Cold. Vast. Indifferent.
Lin Yu swallowed.
Then spoke—not aloud, but from the deepest part of his will.
"Humans can cultivate using dark energy to become stronger."
The moment the lie was formed—
Pain slammed into him.
It felt as if something had been scooped out of his chest. His vision blurred violently. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him so suddenly that he nearly collapsed onto the bed.
His heart pounded erratically.
"So… heavy…" he gasped.
This was nothing like before. No gentle stirring. No vague warmth.
This was real cost.
Real backlash.
And yet—
Amid the exhaustion, knowledge appeared.
Not learned.
Not remembered.
Granted.
Lin Yu's breathing slowed as fragments of understanding surfaced in his mind.
Lie Feedback Received
Current Validity: Extremely Low
Effective Belief Ratio: 0% (Unconfirmed)
Conditional Truth Established:
If belief forms, 1% of believers will gain the ability to cultivate dark energy using disseminated techniques.
As belief deepens and spreads, the percentage will increase proportionally.
Warning:
Repeated large-scale lies will cause severe mental and soul fatigue.
Contradictions may collapse manifested truths.
Lin Yu lay there, staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling heavily.
"One percent…" he whispered.
That was enough.
More than enough.
A laugh escaped his lips—weak, breathless, but genuine.
"So that's how it works."
He turned his head, looking at his desk where his notebook lay waiting.
"I don't need to prove cultivation is real," he said softly.
"I just need people to want it to be."
Outside, the city hummed as usual.
Phones lit up. Screens refreshed. Stories waited to be written.