Chapter 39: I Won’t Let Him Have the Chance to Realize It

“You go ahead and take care of your business.”

After another brief silence, An Luo spoke up. “I’m not planning to take on tasks so soon.”

“Why?”

An Luo replied, “I want to spend some contribution points at the Library first to exchange for some Ice Attribute Witchcraft Books.”

After much deliberation, An Luo decided to tell Meieruita about his ability to master witchcraft just by reading it.

Despite its many limitations, this ability was still incredibly overpowered.

By revealing it, not only could he make Meieruita feel that he had placed a certain level of trust in him, but it could also conceal An Luo’s true trump card: those Han character runes.

Games often featured hidden rooms, but some devious developers would hide another hidden room inside the first one.

Many players, upon finding the initial hidden room, subconsciously thought that was the end—they grabbed the rewards and left, never suspecting there was more hidden within.

Some even more ruthless ones would nest another room inside that one.

Russian nesting dolls, layer upon layer.

The devs: Heh heh, didn’t see that coming, did you?

The players: …Damn.

An Luo had drawn inspiration from this.

He decided to act as if he placed great importance on witchcraft, treating the Han character runes as his bottom line and using them as sparingly as possible.

That way, when the time came to escape, he could achieve the element of surprise.

After explaining, An Luo said helplessly, “As you can see, activating a single rune requires a tremendous amount of magic power. It took me nearly a month, casting it once or twice a day, each time draining me completely. If I relied on runes to fend off danger, the daylilies would have gone cold by then.”

“And it might be because my talent isn’t great—my magic power reserves aren’t much either. Even for simpler runes that don’t demand as much magic power, it still takes at least a few days.”

Everything An Luo said was the truth; he had merely concealed a tiny sliver of the facts.

He looked at Meieruita sincerely. “I know you’re very busy. I can’t keep troubling you forever. Once I learn… uh, read through one more witchcraft spell, I’ll go complete this task on my own.”

“If everything goes smoothly this time, you won’t have to escort me anymore in the future. You’ll have more time to research your own witchcraft, and I can handle things myself.”

Meieruita remained silent for a long time, and An Luo had no idea what he was thinking.

His expression showed no change, making it impossible to guess his thoughts.

But in the end, Meieruita replied flatly, “Fine.”

“I’ll come find you three days from now.”

“Sure, sure.”

Meieruita placed a bag of Man-Eating Flower Fruits on the table and turned to leave.

Unlike the small bags he used to bring back daily when they lived together, this one was bulging and full. When An Luo opened it, he realized he’d need a basin to hold them all.

As expected of Meieruita.

An Luo sighed inwardly: His disguise skills were top-notch.

Even though their relationship had grown distant and awkward, he still remembered to bring a gift, continuing his strategy of appeasement.

Honestly, An Luo felt Meieruita’s tactics were quite advanced.

First came the close interactions, where he seemed incredibly gentle and attentive, rapidly warming up their relationship. Then, suddenly, he found an excuse to leave for nearly a month. When An Luo had a need, he returned to help write the letter, then left again.

After this brief separation, he showed up once more to assist when An Luo was taking on the task.

What could he say? If these tactics had been used on someone else instead of An Luo, that poor target would likely experience massive emotional fluctuations, constantly second-guessing Meieruita’s intentions.

Was he on good terms with me, or not?

If he was, why had he vanished without a word for so long?

But if not, why did he appear right when needed, solve the problem, and even bring a gift?

This erratic, hot-and-cold, unpredictable attitude easily trapped people in a web of doubt and speculation.

And the more they analyzed Meieruita’s motives, the more emotionally invested they became in him. Once the timing was right, a little push from Meieruita, and they’d truly trust him.

People were easily swayed by emotions; sometimes when feelings surged, reason had to take a backseat.

Even if logic kept warning not to trust Meieruita, emotions would grab your ear and shout:

He’s different! He’s changed! He’s good to me! I’m special!

And then it was game over.

Meieruita was practically an emotional manipulation master!

Too bad it didn’t work on An Luo.

Because… An Luo was the author. He knew the score.

Damn it, don’t underestimate the bond between me and my survival instinct!

“Thanks for society’s beatings,” An Luo murmured to himself. “And thanks to those idiot colleagues.”

He clasped his hands together, bowing into the void with genuine sincerity. “Thank you all.”

In the few short months since entering society, An Luo had faced more frustrations than in the previous twenty-plus years combined. It had thoroughly tempered his mindset, giving him an exceptionally clear self-awareness.

Otherwise, even as the author, he might have fallen for it.

But now, things were different.

An Luo calmly poured out a portion of the fruits Meieruita had brought, washed them clean, and ate them.

His heart didn’t ripple in the slightest from Meieruita’s actions.

There was even a strangely proud feeling toward him.

As expected of the protagonist, my good son—you rock!

That very afternoon, An Luo went to the Library and used contribution points to exchange for a basic Ice Witchcraft book.

The Ice Cone Technique—not only could it attack, but it could also temporarily slow an enemy’s movements.

Of course, the witchcraft that Low-Level Wizard Apprentices could learn was basic, but even so, it was a thick tome that intimidated at first glance.

Starting from page five, An Luo couldn’t understand it at all, but he stubbornly read every word, not skipping even a single punctuation mark.

Finally, he turned to the last page and read the final period. The method to use the Ice Cone Technique surfaced in his mind.

Though it was still a rigid, mechanical witchcraft like releasing a game skill, being able to master it after one full read—why need a bicycle?

After learning it, An Luo spent some time testing it.

He concluded that its mana cost was the same as the Fireball Spell.

With his magic power reserves, he could cast about ten spells.

An Luo gazed at the cluster of ice cones floating above his palm, finding it miraculous.

He poked it with his other hand—hard and ice-cold.

Great. When summer came, he wouldn’t have to worry about the heat.

Three days later, An Luo had just woken up when he saw Meieruita sitting at the desk, writing something.

The quill pen scratched across the paper with a constant rustling sound.

An Luo blinked, fully waking up.

So early?

Noticing An Luo’s movement, Meieruita set down his pen and looked over.

An Luo said, “Good morning.”

Meieruita nodded and replied calmly, “Good morning.”

He didn’t urge An Luo along. Instead, he simply put away his notebook, took out a book, and quietly read while An Luo washed up and ate.

An Luo hadn’t expected Meieruita to arrive so early, so last night he had only prepared breakfast for one.

He had been living alone for a while, so naturally, he only made single portions.

He thought for a moment but didn’t invite Meieruita to eat.

No big deal.

Meieruita remained perfectly quiet throughout, voicing no complaints.

After An Luo finished eating and tidied the dishes, he said, “I’m ready.”

“Mm.”

Meieruita closed his book and said simply, “Let’s go.”

An Luo’s low-level task this time was to collect twenty thorns dropped from Thorn Beasts.

Thorn Beasts were creatures covered entirely in spines, similar to porcupines but far more aggressive.

During their growth, they continuously sprouted new spines to replace the old ones, and even as adults, they never stopped.

As pack animals with large numbers, they shed plenty of spines.

Collecting twenty was no issue at all.

The only problem was gathering them without being spotted by the Thorn Beasts. One or two might be manageable if discovered, but if a whole group noticed… it was time to bid farewell to the world.

They weren’t just aggressive with high attack desire—they held grudges like nobody’s business.

Tricky opponents.

An Luo mentally assessed it and figured it was doable.

As long as he stayed sneaky, took it slow and steady without rushing, there shouldn’t be any problems.

The path to the Thorn Beasts’ habitat passed by the Man-Eating Flowers. As An Luo went by, the flowers all lunged toward him, their massive heads twisting wildly, steel-like teeth glinting in the light, drool dripping down as their vines rustled.

An Luo jumped in fright.

Meieruita pulled his wrist, positioning An Luo safely on the inner side.

“What’s going on?” he asked blankly.

“Maybe they remembered your scent.”

Meieruita’s expression didn’t change, even with a horde of Man-Eating Flowers going berserk just a short distance from his side. He remained utterly calm, his tone even. “They can’t cross the barrier. No need to worry.”

An Luo felt a chill. “Looks like I can’t take any more tasks involving Man-Eating Flowers from now on.”

Given how ferocious they looked, if he dared accept one, it’d be “try it and die.”

“No problem.” As they were about to leave the Man-Eating Flowers’ area, Meieruita glanced back at the group, which seemed thrilled and fawning to an extreme degree. Then, as if nothing had happened, he looked away.

He said, “There are plenty of other low-level tasks. Missing one won’t matter.”

An Luo agreed, “True.”

The two continued toward the Thorn Beasts’ habitat.

Meieruita walked on the outer side, as if protecting him—or blocking him.

His gaze lowered slightly, a flicker of an indecipherable emotion passing through his gray-green eyes.

An Luo had only casually written about the existence of Man-Eating Flowers; he didn’t understand their habits.

A few more tasks, witnessing their true frenzied attacks, and he would naturally realize that the flowers’ behavior just now wasn’t an attempt to attack.

But…

I won’t let him have the chance to realize that.

“Let’s go,” Meieruita said calmly. “We’re almost there.”