With a casual flick of his wrist, Silas swung the cane a couple of times. It felt remarkably well-balanced, an extension of his arm.
"I've heard it said that during the Industrial Revolution, a gentleman's walking stick wasn't just for support, but for self-defense. There's definitely some truth to that."
Setting the cane aside, Silas peeled off the grimy, sweat-stuck shirt and, grabbing a towel, headed for the washroom.
"It's only six now. Ada should still be at her prayers. I'll take a bath first."
Silas was well acquainted with Ada's daily routine.
The washroom was cramped, barely large enough for two people to stand in simultaneously.
Locking the door, Silas didn't bother with the gas heater to warm the water. He simply lay down in the tub, immersing himself in the four-degree Celsius water with a sigh of comfort.
Staring up at the ceiling, covered with peeling, old canvas, Silas closed his eyes and began to sift through Silas Sotos's memories concerning the mystical arts.
Most of Sotos's knowledge of mysticism had come from his necromancer mentor, supplemented by his own tentative explorations.
"Mysticism is undeniably real in this world," Silas mused, "and ordinary people possess some awareness of it. The Church's Night Watchers and Demon Hunters are prime examples of its tangible products."
"However, people harbor a deep-seated fear of the mystical. Stepping onto that path is not only a torment for the spirit but also fraught with immense danger."
"The danger comes from two fronts. The first is spiritual. The core of entering the mystical path revolves around an attribute known as 'Spirit Vision.'
Ordinary individuals have a Spirit Vision of 0; they perceive nothing supernatural. But as one's knowledge grows, or through experiencing and connecting certain bizarre events, their Spirit Vision increases.
The higher the Spirit Vision, the more one can comprehend matters related to the mystical. While an increase in Spirit Vision enhances perception and knowledge, it comes with the inherent risk of witnessing terrifying phenomena and incomprehensible entities. The mere sight of such things can instill profound dread. Those with weaker constitutions simply go mad."
Reflecting on this, Silas couldn't help but scoff internally, "Isn't this just the Cthulhu Mythos system? No wonder people aren't exactly queuing up for supernatural powers."
Speaking of the Cthulhu Mythos, Silas was suddenly struck by a peculiarity in his own new name.
"Silas Sotos… Yog-Sothoth. My name is just one letter off from one of the Outer Gods, one of the Three Pillars. Surely there's no connection, right?"
The thought flickered and was gone as quickly as it came. Silas pulled his focus back to processing the memories.
"After the spiritual torment comes physical peril. The Tri-Moon Goddesses, in their wisdom, established a division between ordinary humans and mystical creatures. The core principle is essentially: ignorance is bliss."
"Based on this theory, as long as people cannot perceive these mystical monsters, the monsters will not actively attack ordinary humans. However, if you do see these creatures, and become aware of them, then they, in turn, will notice you and subsequently hunt you down."
"Of course, this theory doesn't apply to all mystical monsters. It's primarily relevant for those beings that hail from the Abyss, the so-called 'Kin.' Man-made monstrosities and mutated local creatures can still attack humans proactively."
"Spirit Vision, eh?" Contemplating this attribute, Silas mentally searched for his own.
This attribute was fascinating. The perception of one's own Spirit Vision was an innate sense, as natural as breathing; one could directly 'view' it through spiritual focus.
"The scale for Spirit Vision ranges from 0 to 99. For a normal human, the range is 0 to 5. My current Spirit Vision is already 9. I've already stepped outside the normal safe zone."
As he pondered, the time had crept to half-past six. Silas rose, dried himself briskly, and drained the tub.
No sane person would bathe in water this cold during winter. He didn't want Ada to become unnecessarily suspicious.
Next, Silas began to prepare breakfast.
Both the Silas Sotos of this world and the Silas of his previous life had become proficient in cooking due to the early loss of their parents.
However, due to the vast cultural differences between East and West, the meat buns and savory rice porridge Silas craved were unobtainable here.
All he could manage was reheated grey bread, a pungent fish paste with a strong, briny odor, and rather bland mashed potatoes.
"The cuisine here is truly a trial by fire," Silas sighed internally, standing in the kitchen.
"Once I find stable work, I'm definitely going to improve our meals." He made a firm resolution.
Woof!
Beside the stove, the Husky sat, its tongue lolling out, tail thumping against the floor as it watched its master.
Seeing the eager, hopeful look in the creature's eyes, Silas felt a pang of sympathy. He gave it the last two remaining bones.
"Looks like there are three mouths to feed in this house now."
At seven in the morning, Ada, finished with her prayers, entered the dining area and was visibly surprised to see breakfast already prepared on the table.
Silas lowered the newspaper he was reading and smiled. "Come and eat, Ada."
Seeing Silas's gentle smile, Ada was not only surprised but also deeply pleased. The "little brother" who had become so withdrawn and strange over the past six months seemed to have returned to the person he was when they first met.
Lowering his gaze back to the paper, Silas scanned yesterday's headlines. The top story reported that two dangerous "Demonesses" had secretly infiltrated Bayne City. The Church's Demon Hunters and Night Watchers were actively pursuing them and urged citizens to provide any information.
"Demonesses? Interesting." Silas searched Sotos's memories for information on them, his expression full of curiosity.
The "Demonesses" of this world were akin to the witches of medieval times in his old world. However, unlike those witches, each of these Demonesses possessed formidable mystical powers.
Legend had it that this mystical power was a heritage from devils. A Demoness's power was notoriously unstable; each time they lost control, they would transform into terrifying, grotesque monsters, causing immense destruction.
Consequently, around five thousand years ago, during the late Kaldin Third Dynasty, Demonesses were officially designated as targets for capture and hunting.
"Is it really the power of devils?" Silas felt a strong sense of doubt.
As a modern young man of the "four virtues" – possessing morality, education, culture, and ideals – Silas, while not an atheist, was far more objective than the native inhabitants of this world. He wouldn't be easily swayed by folklore and ingrained customs.
After a brief moment of thought, he continued reading.
"One thousand four hundred cults?!" Seeing this number, Silas's dark eyebrows shot up.
This was official data from the Empire. As of November 23rd, Year 7844 of the Moon Calendar, a total of 1,421 cults had been identified across the continent. Among these, seventeen were major cults deemed capable of instigating world wars or overthrowing entire nations.
"The existence of real gods certainly has its pros and cons. This world has reached an astonishing level of technological development, yet people are still so easily brainwashed into fanatical cults due to faith or desire."
Five minutes later, Ada, having finished her morning ablutions, sat down at the table.
"Oh, by the way, Silas," Ada remembered, "we need to go to the police station later. I reported you missing, so now that you're back, we need to close the case."
Silas nodded. "I can go by myself. You should hurry to the convent. Absences could affect your confirmation."
Trainee nuns required five years to become fully ordained and eligible to reside in the convent. Ada was currently only two years into her training.