The second public lecture on *Logic and Magic Models* had just ended, and the "New Student Exchange" section of the academy's internal forum was a scene of utter devastation.
Underneath the pinned help thread, the replies had already surpassed a hundred.
"This is madness! The 'Directional' Rune isn't meant for humans to learn! My Spiritual Power model has exploded seventeen times already!"
"What the hell is this 'Vector Convergence' the mentor was talking about? I can't even get a grip on my Spiritual Power, let alone converge it!"
"The senior students' notes say to forcefully 'push' it with your mind, but every time I push, it feels like my head is getting smashed with a hammer. It's still ringing right now."
Despair was palpable everywhere.
Right at this moment, a single apprentice left a timid reply amidst the army of wailers.
"Um... why don't you guys try looking at a post called *A Concept Regarding the Directional Component of Wizard's Hand*? I... I think I succeeded..."
The reply was instantly buried, but a few minutes later, he posted another one, this time sounding infinitely more excited.
"Holy shit! It's not just a 'think'! I really succeeded! Formed on the first try! Quick, go check it out, guys! The poster is User_322345, signed as Allen Wesren!"
Those two words, "holy shit," seemed to carry Magic Power, instantly detonating through the pervasive gloom. A desperate "nothing to lose" mentality had always been a stepping stone for human progress.
Three minutes later, in the public corridor of Teaching Building Zone A, an apprentice stood facing the wall with his eyes closed, his fingers trembling slightly. He was surrounded by seven or eight other freshmen, all wearing the same looks of despair.
"...The post says not to 'push,' but to 'guide'..." he mumbled to himself, his Spiritual Power probing outward gently in the bizarre manner described in the thread.
In the past, his Spiritual Power had been like an untamable wild bull, charging recklessly. But now, it seemed to transform into a docile stream, naturally flowing, converging, and shaping itself along an invisible riverbed.
A perfectly structured "Directional" Rune with a stable glow quietly took shape within his Sea of Consciousness. The entire process was so smooth it made him want to cry.
"I did it!" he roared excitedly, snapping his eyes open. His rims were red. "It didn't collapse! It really didn't collapse!"
This uncontrollable shout of ecstasy was like a spark thrown into boiling oil.
"Are you serious?!" A skeptical apprentice watching from the side immediately followed suit on the spot.
Five seconds later, a shout erupted. "I succeeded too! My god! It actually works! My Spiritual Power... it's moving on its own!"
THUD! An apprentice whose Spiritual Power momentarily lost balance due to overwhelming excitement fell flat on his rear. However, there was no trace of pain on his face, only a manic joy. "It worked! It worked for me too!"
The ripples quickly expanded into monstrous waves.
"'Guide' instead of 'push'... Damn it, that phrase is the key! Why wasn't it written like this in the textbook? Are the people who wrote the curriculum a bunch of pigs?"
"This concept is so wild! It's absolutely subversive! Who's the poster? Allen? Allen Wesren? Who is that?"
"I declare that from today on, Allen is my brother from another mother!"
The reply count of the thread exploded at a visible rate.
The initial doubts and wails were completely drowned out by a barrage of "It works!", "Thank you!", "God!", and "Start a class, I'll listen on my knees!"
In less than two hours after class, the name Allen had forged a glowing reputation as a "genius," a "Savior," and a "technical authority" among the entire freshman cohort.
At dinnertime, the academy's cafeteria was bustling with activity. The low-level apprentices at many tables were discussing Allen and his legendary post.
"Did you succeed? I got it after just three tries, I can hardly believe it!"
"Tell me about it. I feel like my past half-month of practice went straight to the dogs."
Meanwhile, in the liveliest corner of the cafeteria, Lester Green was surrounded by two of his friends. He waved his hands, his face radiating an almost fanatical glow.
"Watch closely," Lester lowered his voice, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.
He extended a finger, pointing at a vibrant green pea on his friend's dinner plate two meters away.
The next second, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the pea gently and in defiance of all physical laws... jumped up!
It traced a small parabola in the air and landed precisely into the other friend's soup bowl, splashing up a small blossom of broth.
Dead silence fell over the table. One of Lester's friends had his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg, while the fork in the other's hand dropped onto his plate with a loud CLANG.
"Les... Lester..." one friend's voice trembled. "Didn't you say... you couldn't even blow out a candle? It's... it's only been a few days!"
"That was before I met Lord Allen." Lester's tone was filled with a sense of holiness and superiority. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower but carrying an unparalleled inflammatory quality. "He only took one hour to make me understand the true essence of Witchcraft!"
He glanced around at the apprentices who were still cheering over their success with the "Directional" Rune, a pitying smile curving his lips.
"Are you all still feeling smug about that little 'guidance' trick on the forum?" His voice seemed to carry Magic Power. "That was nothing but a tiny splash in the vast ocean of Lord Allen's knowledge. What he taught me is a complete, systematic method! While the rest of you are still learning to walk, he has already taught me how to fly!"
These words, coupled with the "jumping pea" from just moments ago, delivered an impact ten thousand times more shocking than the cold text on the forum!
A living, breathing example stood right before them—someone who had been the bottom of the barrel just two days ago, yet was now performing what amounted to a "miracle"!
Through the dual channels of the online forum and Lester's offline boasting, the name Allen fermented rapidly like two intertwining Giant Dragons, pushing his reputation to an unprecedented height.
At this moment, in the eye of the Storm, Allen was dining quietly with Vera and Colin.
He ignored the gazes of awe, curiosity, or inquiry cast from his surroundings, simply and calmly cutting the roast meat on his plate.
A commercial marketing campaign—from traffic exposure and word-of-mouth fermentation to the screening of potential clients—had been executed to perfection.
Just then, two apprentices holding their dinner trays shuffled over to their table with hesitant steps.
The surrounding clamor seemed to quiet down, with countless eyes focusing on them.
One of them was the very first apprentice who had succeeded in the corridor. He took a deep breath, mustering the greatest courage of his life, so nervous that his voice pitched awkwardly. "Excuse me... are you Lord Allen Wesren? The one who... posted that legendary thread on the forum?"
Allen looked up, his deep blue eyes as calm and rippleless as the profound night sky, making it impossible to fathom their depths.
Before Allen could answer, another figure squeezed in from the side. His eyes were even more urgent, carrying a hint of pleading. He was none other than one of the friends who had just been shocked by Lester's "pea miracle."
"Lester said... said that you... offer... paid tutoring here?" he stammered, his hands gripping the edges of his tray in excitement.
One was an apprentice saved by a free post; the other was a client stimulated by Lester's example and eager for an instant ascent. Though driven by different motives, they had both ultimately converged here.
But the same light flickered in their eyes—the hope of a drowning man spotting his only driftwood, the yearning of a desert traveler spotting an oasis.
Allen set down his knife and fork, methodically wiping his mouth with a napkin.
He looked at the two hooked clients before him, as well as the many more potential clients behind them who were seemingly eating, but had their ears pricked and eyes darting over.
The first piece of the puzzle was in place. Now, it was time to put in the second. He pushed his plate forward and leaned back slightly against his chair. This simple motion instantly created a subtle distance between him and the eager apprentices. It wasn't a social distance, but a divide in status—he was the benefactor, and they were the seekers.
"This is not the place to talk," he said, his voice steady and clear, devoid of any emotion, like a top-tier consultant stating an established fact.
"Tomorrow at seven in the evening, Zone A-7 public practice room." He provided a time and location that left no room for argument, then added one more sentence. "If your problems haven't been resolved by then, you can come find me."
With that, he withdrew his gaze, picked up his knife and fork once more, and sliced off another small piece of roast meat. It was as if the highly anticipated conversation had just been an inconsequential interlude.
The conversation was over. The apprentices stood frozen in place, somewhat bewildered by his aloof attitude.
They had expected to be rejected, expected to be treated haughtily, or even expected an immediate demand for a high price, but they had never anticipated an outcome like this. They exchanged glances before silently bowing in unison and quietly backing away.
Only when they had walked far away did Colin abruptly lean in. Lowering his voice, his face was full of disbelief. "Allen, are you really going to... teach them? That's dozens of people, maybe even over a hundred! How do you have that much time?"
Vera also looked at him with concern, adding softly, "Furthermore, if you don't teach them well, or if someone fails to learn, the reputation you've built up now..."
"I won't be teaching 'dozens of people.'"
Allen placed the small piece of meat into his mouth and chewed methodically, a sharp gleam flashing through his deep blue eyes.
His plan had never been to act as a cheap nanny who catered to every request. Too many people would also crowd out his own study time.
Unrestrained goodwill was the most worthless thing of all.
What he wanted was a replicable, scalable, and highly profitable... paid knowledge system.