Ron stepped through the doors of the bookstore, instantly realizing it resembled a grand library far more than a simple bookshop.
Hundreds of shelves and thousands of bookcases were neatly arranged from top to bottom, towering like fortresses constructed from pure knowledge.
But Ron wasn't here to sightsee; he was hunting for something specific.
At present, the accumulated data Ron had deduced from the very beginning unfolded as follows:
First, the ground was actively consuming data extracted from deceased individuals to construct some form of cognitive entity, such as the fake Lunas.
It also utilized either death or time to restore local equilibrium to the city's infrastructure, specifically the buildings.
In other words, while no one truly understood what the ground or the demon was doing, it was highly probable that it was enforcing a state of environmental equilibrium.
Second, this space harbored conscious entities that completely defied conventional laws of physics.
Ron had survived a point blank explosion entirely unscathed, and his blood type had spontaneously shifted from O to AB... Simply put, this was a layer of virtual reality.
Because it was a simulated reality, be it a dream or an identical phenomenon, Ron could harbor a sliver of hope that anyone who perished here might still be salvaged.
Third, the train anomaly. He had successfully pieced together roughly 80% of the puzzle, how he had bypassed it, his own demonic nature, and the tactical protocols he deployed. Everything clicked seamlessly, save for a critical, decisive 20% that still eluded him.
Fourth, the blind spots. These anomalies didn't follow a fixed trajectory; instead, they periodically obscured a portion of Ron's logic and perception. Fortunately, they weren't overwhelmingly powerful, he could break through them simply by continuously questioning his own premises.
They seemed fundamentally linked to a Gift, a mystical power distinct from standard Paths, though apparently not entirely rare.
Countless hypotheses swirled in Ron's mind, but quantity did not equal quality. There were far too many variables demanding a resolution.
'The greatest pitfall of deduction is assuming everything will unfold in your favor.'
Knowing he was actively being monitored, he couldn't guarantee that uncovering a clue would inherently work to his advantage.
The pig and the fishing rod, Ron could very well be the pig blindly chasing the bait right now.
Ron walked up to the reception desk. He casually used his knife to sever the door lock, instantly triggering an automated magical alarm. For a fleeting moment, a thought crossed his mind: 'With magic this convenient, it's no wonder scientific development is so stagnant here.'
He approached the employee workstation, only to notice a leather bound book hovering quietly in midair.
It looked completely ancient, stained with ink blots, and exuded an indescribable scent, resembling the musk of an elderly person.
"...It appears to be a registration ledger documenting the books stored and cataloged here. However, it's secured by a specialized localized spell."
Ron spoke to Emy, subtly prompting her to see if she had a solution. As someone who had clawed his way through the underworld, Ron possessed numerous methods to force it open, but he feared exposing his true identity.
"...For a ten year old kid, you're remarkably bold. Breaking and entering a building and smashing locks without blinking an eye."
Emy teased Ron, though a deep-seated suspicion clearly lingered beneath her words. Ron offered no reply, simply stepping aside to let her pass.
"...It's a primitive, homemade lock. It doesn't seem designed to deter thieves so much as to filter out unauthorized individuals."
Emy peered through the bandages covering her eyes to inspect the levitating ledger. This was no joke about a blind person; two sharp beams of golden light pierced right through the cloth layers, scanning the object meticulously.
'Eye Magic.'
Ron noted internally. It was a highly specialized form of sorcery.
The true strength of Eye Magic lay in an unconventional domain; it was never designed for direct combat or standard utility, yet it reigned supreme because it never relied on specific physical conditions.
Crack~
A brittle fracture echoed from Emy's direction, followed by her calm voice.
"Alright. Content yourself and hurry up to grab the book you need, Ron."
Hearing this, Ron nodded and requested.
"Can you help me locate a book titled: The Naked Body of a Corpse?"
Hearing his request, Emy flinched slightly before casting a sharp glance toward him.
"...You don't happen to have a necrophilia fetish, do you?"
"I am the corpse."