I Loaded the Mysticism Panel
Chapter 4: Approaching Science

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Approaching Science

Wait a minute. It was just at zero.

He instinctively held still, letting Warren continue to fuss around, his eyes fixed on the number.

It was climbing, visibly ticking upward.

0.12... 0.15... 0.19...

It was like sand in an hourglass, trickling out grain by grain from the cloth bag and flowing into his panel.

The Divination Disc in the bag really did have something sealed inside it.

It was constantly seeping out, being silently absorbed by him and converted into Points.

’This thing is real, or it used to be. There’s definitely something inside.’

Richard quickly made his assessment, careful not to let the others see that anything was amiss.

He glanced at the eager faces around him.

Warren, Mason, Grey, and Hugh, who had been roped in simply because he was sitting nearby.

’Four ignorant faces, and not one of them knows what they’re doing.’

’Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Their pent-up curiosity is about to lead them to stir up a hornet’s nest of unknown depth.’

Richard weighed his options for a moment, then spoke up. "This thing."

He pointed at the cloth bag. "Can I take a look at it first?"

Warren paused for a second, then casually tossed the bag over. "You know about these?"

"Just curious." Richard caught the bag and toyed with it in his hands.

He didn’t take the disc out. He wasn’t sure if it would make a difference, but it was probably best to avoid direct contact.

0.53... 0.67... The Points were still climbing slowly.

Meanwhile, Warren was already getting things ready.

Grey took a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket:

"Light the Candle, place your hands on the edge of the disc, and close your eyes to ask a question.

That’s it. No extra Curse Spells."

"Let’s light the Candle first, then." Warren drew the curtains. "Gotta have the right atmosphere for this."

He even double-checked the gaps on both sides, making sure they were tiny.

Mason set out the Candle, and Warren struck a match.

The orange flame seemed surprisingly bright in the dim classroom, making their faces flicker between light and shadow.

None of them noticed Richard standing off to the side, still holding the cloth bag, not moving any closer.

0.73... 0.82...

"Richard," Warren said, looking back. "Aren’t you going to join us?"

"Coming," Richard said. "Just give me a second."

The Candle was lit. Warren cleared his throat, preparing to speak the words of invitation.

0.92... Richard could feel that whatever was inside was almost depleted.

Soon, the number stopped climbing and settled at 1.

He breathed a sigh of relief, weighed the bag in his hand, and casually placed it on a nearby desk.

Just as Warren took the bag and pulled out the disc, the Candle went out.

There was no wind. The curtains were drawn tight. No one had moved, and no doors had opened.

It just went out, clean and simple, as if snuffed by an invisible hand.

Hugh flinched back.

Mason burst out laughing and leaned back in his chair. "See? I told you the curtains weren’t closed tight enough! There’s a draft!"

"Where’s the draft?" Grey lifted the curtain and quickly dropped it again, looking puzzled. "They’re shut tight."

"Then it’s the wick. Who knows how old this Candle is."

Richard slowly drew his hand back and pressed it to his forehead. It felt cold, but he couldn’t tell if it was his palm or his forehead that was chilled.

He glanced at the disc.

Now, it truly was just a piece of wood.

The characters on the wood were ancient, but whatever had been sealed within them had been completely absorbed by him, leaving it empty.

Warren was still arguing with Mason about the Candle as he struck another match and relit the wick.

Everyone placed their hands back on it and waited for a while, but the disc didn’t move.

They waited a bit longer. Still nothing.

Warren pulled his hands back, making no effort to hide his disappointment.

"That old man..." He gritted his teeth. "He ripped me off."

"What’s wrong?" Hugh asked timidly.

"When he sold it to me, he went on and on about how it was a genuine article from the Eastern Continent and guaranteed it would react when used..."

Warren shoved the paper aside forcefully. "There’s no reaction at all! It’s just a useless piece of wood."

Mason chuckled. "Did you actually believe him? That old man saw how you were dressed and knew you had money. He was obviously just making stuff up..."

"I didn’t actually believe him." Warren looked a little embarrassed. "I just bought it as a toy, but it can’t even do a simple trick. This thing’s a dud."

Richard shook his head.

’If I hadn’t been here, and if the stuff inside the disc hadn’t been emptied out beforehand... and if these clueless kids had actually managed to summon something... I don’t know what would have happened, but it definitely wouldn’t have been good.’

"Actually," he began, "even if it had reacted, it wouldn’t necessarily be for the reasons you think."

Warren looked over. "What do you mean?"

"Have you guys heard of the ideomotor effect?"

"No."

"The gist of it is this." Richard sat sideways on a nearby desk.

"When a person is highly focused on something and has a strong expectation of the outcome, their muscles begin to make tiny, unconscious movements. The nervous system reacts spontaneously based on that expectation, bypassing conscious thought."

Grey listened intently, her blue eyes filled with thought.

"So when several people place their hands on the same disc, and everyone is mentally expecting it to move, it moves.

There’s no external force involved. Everyone’s muscles are unconsciously working in sync, and the combined effort is enough to push the disc.

The participants don’t feel like they’re exerting any force, so they mistakenly believe it’s coming from an outside power."

Warren understood what he was getting at. "So when people think the table is moving, they’re actually pushing it themselves?"

"Exactly."

"What about the Candle?" Mason said. "How do you explain the Candle going out on its own?"

"A Candle burning in a sealed space consumes oxygen.

With five people in here, plus a lit Candle, the oxygen level in the classroom will drop.

A wick becomes unstable in a low-oxygen environment. A few chance factors pile up, and this is what happens."

As he spoke, he suddenly had a sense of déjà vu. ’Am I hosting an episode of *MythBusters* for these kids right now?’

Warren put down the disc and sighed.

"I spent ten pounds on a useless piece of wood."

’Ten pounds!’ Richard silently calculated.

’Ten pounds is enough to buy a thousand hot pies, or to pay my family’s rent for several months.’

But the thought only flashed through his mind for a moment before he pushed it away.

"It’s not a total loss. Things from the Ancient Eastern Continent have some value on the collector’s market.

You can put it on your bookshelf, and it’ll be a conversation starter when you have guests."

Mason clapped Warren on the shoulder. "Hear that? You bought a decorative piece. A classy one."

Warren shot him a glare, but then cracked a smile himself.

Grey packed the Candle and its holder into her schoolbag, glancing at Richard as she walked over.

"You’re... really different today."

"I had a bad fever. It gave me time to think."

"More than just time to think," Grey said, pondering. "You almost never spoke in class before."

Richard just smiled. Some things were impossible to explain.

Hugh leaned in and whispered:

"Why didn’t you say something about that ide-o-motor thing sooner... The Candle going out really scared me."

"You didn’t ask."

"So... Spirit Mediums, Witches... are they all just scams?"

Richard’s tone turned serious. "Most of them are, but it’s still best not to go looking."

"Why? If they’re fake..."

"You don’t know enough about it to tell which ones are fake. What happens if you run into a real one?"

Hugh was taken aback and promptly shut his mouth.

Warren had already packed up his things. He walked over, slinging his schoolbag and draping an arm over Richard’s shoulder.

In the social language of boys, this gesture meant he had been fully accepted.

Richard shrugged Warren’s arm off and focused his consciousness on the panel: [Available Points: 1]

’No rush. I’ll figure out where to allocate it when I get back.’