May 15
Today was our religious studies department gathering. My classmates' achievements made me feel ashamed of myself. A significant number of them already have respectable careers, while I am still relying on Infinita's support. She is a good girl with countless virtues, and I look forward to our relationship progressing further.
May 16
Ronan approached me, expressing strong agreement with my religious views from yesterday's gathering and offering to help me find a job in the religious field. He is truly a kind-hearted gentleman, and I gladly accepted his offer.
May 18
Through Ronan's introduction, I met that mysterious entity. They praised my academic background, which made me very happy. We discussed religion, and he enthusiastically invited me to join, but I still need to consider it. After all, joining a religious organization without official documentation is legally prohibited, but it would enhance my religious knowledge, and I am certain of that.
...
June 13
I noticed that Infinita had met with that shameless man again, this being the fifth time this month. Even though there was nothing between us... This was intolerable, and I felt angry, but I had more important things to do.
...
June 22
We had a heated argument. Was I overthinking things?
June 23
Will receiving the reward change my fate? I'm not sure, but regardless, I must obtain power. I will not allow anyone to trample on my dignity—absolutely not!
...
Many pages had been torn out of the diary spread across the desk, making the entire book look irregular. Donald, who was reading the diary, had collapsed on the desk and lost consciousness at some point.
His physical strength wasn't as good as he had imagined. The relentless blows of reality and the extreme mental exhaustion caused him to fall asleep while reading the notes.
**
His body felt like it had been thrown into an abyss, falling, falling, until vague images began to appear around him.
A half-meter-diameter wooden table, with three people seated around it. The perspective was from somewhere beside the table, where a discussion was taking place.
"Donald, this is our chance to change our fate. If you agree, our plan will proceed smoothly, and we will receive an unprecedented reward!"
A young man with swollen eyelids, a sunken nose, and an unattractive appearance was speaking excitedly to another young man who kept his head down.
Was that "me"?
Was this Donald's dream, or something that "I" had once experienced?
Certain vivid memory fragments had not completely vanished; they merely resurfaced in the form of dreams during sleep.
"Ronan, I want to think it over. This is illegal. If something goes wrong..."
"I" called him Ronan; he was the one who introduced "me" to the cult.
Remember his appearance so that you can recognize him the next time you see him.
"You should have no hesitation. You are a follower of the Lord. This is a sign of your lack of faith, Donald. You must make a choice immediately. If you defy the will of the Lord, you should know what punishment awaits you."
The person sitting on the right spoke up at this moment, his voice low and carrying a silenced-inducing authority. Since he was facing away from Donald, to see his face clearly, one would have to change positions, and thus the perspective began to shift with the movement of thought.
However, just as he was about to see the other person's face, the "I" who had been keeping his head down suddenly turned around. Those bloodshot eyes stared intently at Donald, his face contorted in rage, his teeth clenched tightly.
"I" was angry... furious!
No! That wasn't "I"!
**
"Ah! Sigh~"
Startled awake, Donald's body jerked backward, his knees colliding with the table with a dull thud, followed by pain.
The next moment, Donald felt deep dread. That furious face—he never imagined that the calm and scholarly self he saw in the mirror could have such an expression.
He pushed back his chair, glanced at the pocket watch on the table—3 a.m.—and looked out the window at the desk. The sky was pitch black, the darkest hour before dawn...
He stared at the notes on the table for a moment, then picked up the pen beside him. He wanted to write down some details from last night and the dream. His mind was in disarray, and putting these clues on paper would help him make sense of them.
The text on the diary was in the language of this world, but the words written with the pen were the square characters of his previous life. This was Donald's deliberate choice; he wanted to ensure that no one else knew the contents.
Being in a foreign land, one must always be vigilant.
Diary entries: Infinita's assistance (why use the term "assistance" if they are married?), Ronan's introduction (cult followers?), an illegal church organization (cult), Infinita's frequent meetings with a certain man (Old Wang?), and more importantly (the subsequent diary entries were torn out, so this event likely occurred between June 13 and June 22), a reward that grants power (a demon-subduing ritual that could cost "me" my life?).
Dream message: Ronan's instigation, oppression by unknown figures (what they demanded was likely that so-called more important matter).
List the information, then identify the key points.
Donald wants to survive in this world, so he must clarify certain matters, such as the nature of the cult.
His predecessor was involved in this organization. Generally speaking, such underground societies not recognized by law are difficult to join and even harder to leave!
To maintain their secrecy, the cult routinely harms those attempting to leave the sect. After all, once discovered by the government and orthodox sects, they would face annihilation in the shortest possible time.
Yes, through the books on the table, Donald knew that the influence of religious sects in this world was immense, with over twenty officially recognized sects in the entire Ryan Empire.
Most of these sects have their own dioceses, spread across the Ryan Empire.
The followers of these major sects span all social classes, from nobles to commoners.
It can be said that the faithful are the foundation of each sect. Those who hide in the shadows, engaging in underhanded activities to attract followers while refusing to assume social responsibility, are naturally despised by the government and orthodox sects.
"I must find a way to escape this cult organization..."
Donald wanted to lead a normal life, and this was something he had to do. He did not want to die mysteriously during one of the cult's rituals, nor did he want to die at the hands of the orthodox sects. The Inquisition mentioned in the book was certainly not a pleasant place.
However, his current understanding of the cult was limited to fragments of memories from diaries and dreams, and everything else could only be gradually pieced together.
Setting that aside for now, Donald currently faced an extremely serious issue: the changes occurring in his body.
Had he truly made a pact with a demon and gained some kind of power?
Thinking of this, Donald couldn't help but recall the situation in the alleyway last night. He had seen the gray mist and bloodstains above the two thugs' heads, and later, he had unleashed a power that could control their actions.
If I could use this power, would it be helpful for the upcoming actions?
His low spirits were inexplicably lifted. As a time traveler, if there was anything that could give him a sense of security in this world, it was this power of unknown origin.
At least it's not nothing, is it?
So far, he hadn't discovered any issues with using this power besides physical fatigue. Donald wasn't stubborn; to survive, he didn't mind trying methods he'd never encountered before.
Taking a deep breath, he spread his hands flat on the table. Donald was ready to try. He recalled a movie where the protagonist was a skeleton that could ride a motorcycle. It seemed that person had also made a deal with a demon to obtain power.
Why not take a cue from the predecessors?
"Cough, cough... I'm trying to imagine myself communicating with fire elements, gathering them in my hands... Come on, at least produce some smoke?"
Wind elements, lightning elements, water elements... He tried them all, but none of the legendary elemental energies responded to Donald.
Looking at his unresponsive palm, Donald's mood sank again. He helplessly twisted his wrist, his gaze casually sweeping across the desk before settling on the pen.
If the elemental energies weren't responding, what about pure mental power?
He pointed his finger at the middle of the pen, constantly imagining it standing up. The next moment, Donald noticed a change in his body. A strange sensation emanated from his brow, as if his thoughts had suddenly transformed into something intangible yet tangible, extending from his fingertips.
If he had to compare it to something... it was similar to the form of flowing water.
Well, this wasn't to say that Donald had water in his brain, but rather that his mental power, or spiritual energy, had extended outward in the form of an intangible stream of water. The quantity wasn't large, roughly equivalent to the flow rate from the tip of a syringe after the needle had been removed, with his fingers serving as the outlet medium.
It wasn't particularly powerful, but it was definitely there. After a few seconds, Donald felt the outline of the pen in his mind.
His fingers remained still, but first the pen tip trembled, then the entire pen began to sway. Under Donald's astonished gaze, the pen successfully stood upright...
"That's amazing... Does this count as a superpower?"
The pleasant emotion temporarily made Donald forget his current predicament, but the distraction caused his mental energy to lose control immediately.
A wave of fatigue followed, though it was much easier than the state in the alleyway, it still left Donald feeling a sense of discomfort in his chest.
Feeling exhausted just from balancing a pen, this superpower was so weak that it caught Donald off guard.
After resting for a moment, Donald decided to try again, this time aiming for levitation. He needed to find something lighter.
The dark red bead.
However, what happened this time was something Donald never could have imagined. The moment his mental energy touched the dark red bead, it seemed to activate, emitting a faint red mist that did not dissipate but instead adhered to Donald's mental energy.
"No, this does not belong to you!!"
Donald suddenly lowered his head, his expression familiar and ferocious, his crimson pupils reappearing, but the words he shouted were extremely obscure.